wore under his robe a cuirass of brass. He never harangued the people but from the top of a high tower; and thought proper to make himself invulne rable by being inaccessible. Not daring to confide in any of his friends or relations, his guard was composed of slaves and strangers. He went abroad as little as possible; fear obliging him to condemn himself to a kind of imprisonment. These extraordinary precautions were used without doubt only at certain intervals of his reign, when frequent conspiracies against him bad rendered him more timid and suspicious than usual; for at other times we have seen that he conversed freely enough with the people, and was accessible even to familiarity. In those dark days of distrust and fear, he fancied that he saw all mankind in arms against him. A word which escaped his barber, who boasted, by way of jest, "that he held a razor at the tyrant's throat every week," cost him his life. From thenceforth, in order not to abandon his head and life to the hands of a barber, he made his daughters, though very young, perform that despicable office; and when they were inore advanced in years, he took the scissors and razors from them, and taught them to singe off his beard with nut-shells. He was at last reduced to do himself that office, not daring, it seems, to trust even his own daughters any longer.‡ He never went into the chamber of his wives at right, till they had been first searched with the utmost care and circumspection. His bed was surrounded with a very broad and deep trench, with a small draw-bridge over it for the entrance. After having well locked and bolted the doors of his apartment, he drew up the bridge, that he might sleep in security. Neither his brother, nor even his sons, could be admitted into his chamber without first changing their clothes, and being visited by the guards.§ Is passing one's days in such a continual circle of distrust and terror, to live, to reign? In the midst of all his greatness, possessed of riches, and surrounded with pleasures of every kind, during a reign of nearly forty years, notwithstanding all his presents and profusion, he never was capable of making a single friend. He passed his life with none but trembling slaves and sordid flatterers, and never tasted the joy of loving, or of being beloved, nor the charms of social truth and reciprocal confidence. This he owned himself upon an occasion not unworthy of repetition. Damon and Pythias had both been educated in the principles of the Pythagorean philosophy, and were united to each other in the strictest ties of friendship, which they had mutually sworn to observe with inviolable fidelity, which was put to a severe trial. One of them being condemned to die by the tyrant, petitioned for permission to make a journey into his own country, to settle his affairs, promising to return at a fixed time, the other generously offering to be his security. The courtiers, and Dionysius in particular, expected with impatience the event of so delicate and extraordinary an adventure. The day hxed for his return drawing nigh, and he not appearing, every body began to blame the rash and imprudent zeal of his friend, who had bound himself in such a manner. But he, far from expressing any fear or concern, replied with tranquillity in his looks, and confidence in his expressions, that he was assured his friend would return, as he accordingly did upon the day and hour agreed. The tyrant, struck with admiration at so uncommon an instance of fidelity, and softened with the view of so amiable a union, granted him his life, and desired to be admitted as a third person into their friendship.|| He expressed with equal ingenuity, on another occasion, what he thought of his condition. One of his courtiers, named Damocles, was perpetually extolling with rapture his treasures, grandeur, the number of his troops, the extent of his dominions, the magnificence of his palaces, and the universal abundance of all good things and enjoyments in his possession; always repeating that never man was happier than Dionysius. "Because you are of that opinion," said the tyrant to him one day, "will you taste, and make proof of my fel is Tue. Quest. I. v. n. 57, 63. Phrt. in Dion. p. 961. Plot, de Garrul. P. 503. city in person?" The offer was accepted with joy. Damocles was placed upon a golden bed, covered with carpets of inestimable value. The side-boards were loaded with vessels of gold and silver. The most beautiful slaves in the most splendid habits stood around, watching the least signal to serve him. The most exquisite essences and perfumes had not been spared. The table was spread with proportionate magnificence. Damocles was all joy, and looked upon himself as the happiest man in the world; when unfortunately, casting up his eyes, he beheld over his head the point of a sword, which hung from the roof by a single horse-hair. He was immediately seized with a cold sweat; every thing disappeared in an instant; he could see nothing but the sword, nor think of any thing but his danger. In the height of his fear he desired permission to retire, and declared that he would be happy no longer: a very natural image of the life of a tyrant. And yet Dionysius reigned, as I have observed before, thirty-eight years.* CHAPTER II. THIS chapter includes the history of Dionysius the younger, tyrant of Syracuse, son of the former; and that of Dion his near relation. SECTION 1.-DIONYSIUS THE YOUNGER SUCCEEDS HIS FATHER. HE INVITES PLATO TO HIS COURT. DIONYSIUS the elder was succeeded by one of his sons of his own name, commonly called Dionysius the younger. After his father's funeral had been solemnized with the utmost magnificence, he assembled the people, and desired that they would have the same good inclinations for him as they had manifested towards his father. They were very different from each other in their character: for the latter was as peaceable and calm in his disposition, as the former was active and enterprising; which would have been no disadvantage to his people, had that mildness and moderation been the effect of a wise and judicious understanding, and not of natural sloth and indolence of temper. It was surprising to see Dionysius the younger take quiet possession of the tyranny after the death of his father, as of a right of inheritance, notwithstanding the passion of the Syracusans for liberty, which could not but revive upon so favourable an occasion, and the weakness of a young prince undistinguished by his merit, and void of experience. It seemed as if the last years, of the el der Dionysius, who had applied himself towards the close of his life in making his subjects taste the advantages of his government, had in some measure re conciled them to the tyranny; especially after his exploits by sea and land had acquired him a great reputation, and infinitely exalted the glory of the Syra cusan power, which he had found means to render formidable to Carthage itself, as well as to the most powerful states of Greece and Italy. Besides which, it was to be feared, that should they attempt a change in the government, the sad consequences of a civil war might deprive them of all those advan tages; and at the same time the gentle and humane disposition of young Dionysius gave them reason to entertain the most favourable hopes for the future. He therefore peaceably ascended his father's throne.§ Dion, the bravest, and at the same time the wisest of the Syracusans, brother-in-law of Dionysius, might have been of great support to him, had he known how to make use of his counsels. In the first assembly held by Dionysius and all his friends, Dion spoke in so wise a manner upon what was no-· Cic. Tusc. Quæst. I. v. n. 61, 62, † A. M. 3632. Ant. J. C. 372. Diod. I. xv. p. 385 Idem, I. xvi. p. 410. The history of England presents something similar to this in the famous Cromwell, who died in his bed with as much tranquillity as the best of princes, and was interred with the same honours and pomp a the most lawful sovereign. Richard his son succeeded him and was for some time in equal authority with his father, though he had not any of his great qualities cessary and expedient in the present conjuncture, as showed that the rest were like infants in comparison with him, and, in regard to a just boldness and freedom of speech, were no more than despicable slaves of the tyranny, solely employed in the abject endeavour of pleasing the prince. But what surprised and amazed them most was, that Dion, at a time when the whole court were struck with terror at the prospect of the storm forming on the side of Carthage, and just ready to break upon Sicily, should insist, that if Dionysius desired peace, he would embark immediately for Africa, and dispel this tempest to his satisfaction; or if he preferred the war, that he would himself furnish and Inaintain fifty galleys of three benches, completely equipped for service.* Dionysius greatly admiring and extolling his generous magnanimity, professed the highest gratitude to him for his zeal and affection; but the courtiers who looked upon Dion's magnificence as a reproach to themselves, and his great power as a diminution of their own, took immediate occasion from thence to calumniate him, and spared no discourse that might influence the young prince against him. They insinuated, that in making himself strong at sea, he would open his way to the tyranny; and that he designed to transport the sovereignty on board his vessels to his nephews, the sons of Aristomache. But what displeased them most with Dion, was his manner of life, which was a continual reproach to theirs. For these courtiers having presently insinuated themselves, and got the ascendency of the young tyrant, who had been wretchedly educated, thought of nothing but of supplying him perpetually with new amusements, keeping him always employed in feasting, abandoned to women and all manner of shameful pleasures. In the beginning of his reign he inade a debauch which continued for three months; during which time, his palace, shut against all persons of sense and reason, was crowded with drunkards, and resounded with nothing but low buffoonery, obscene jests, lewd songs, dances, masquerades, and every kind of gross and dissolute extravagance. It is therefore natural to believe, that nothing could be more offensive and disgusting to them than the presence of Dion, who indulged in none of these pleasures. For which reason, painting his virtues in such of the colours of vice as were most likely to disguise them, they found means to calumniate him with the prince, and to make his gravity pass for arrogance, and his freedom of speech for insolence and sedition. If he advanced any wise counsel, they treated him as a sour pedagogue, who took upon him to obtrude his lectures, and to school his prince without being asked; and if he refused to share in the debauch with the rest, they called him a misanthrope, a splenetic melancholy wretch, who from the fantastic height of virtue looked down with contempt on the rest of the world, of whom he set himself up for the censor.t And indeed it must be confessed, that he had naturally something austere and rigid in his manners and behaviour, which seemed to argue a haughtiness of nature, very likely to disgust a young prince, nurtured from his infancy amid flatteries and submissions. But his best friends and those who were most nearly attached to him, full of admiration for his integrity, fortitude, and nobleness of sentiments, represented to him, that for a statesman, who ought to know how to adapt himself to the different dispositions of men, and to apply them to his purposes, his temper was too harsh and forbidding. Plato afterwards took pains to correct that defect in him, by making him intimate with a philosopher of a gay and polite turn of mind, whose conversation was very proper to inspire him with more easy and insinuating manners. He observes also upon that failing, in a letter to him, wherein he speaks in this manner: consider, I beseech you, that you are censured with being deficient in point of good nature and affability; and be fully assured, that the most certain means to the success of affairs, is to be agreeable to the persons with whom we have to act. A haughty deporument keeps people at a distance, and obliges a man 66 to pass his life in solitude."* Notwithstanding this defect he continued to be highly considered at court; where his superior abilities and transcendaut merit made him absolutely necessary, especially at a time when the state was threatened with great danger and emergency. As he believed that all the vices of young Dionysius were the effect of his bad education, and entire ignorance of his duty, he conceived justly, that the best remedy would be, to associate him, if possible, with persons of wit and sense, whose solid, but agreeable conversation, might at once instruct and divert him, for the prince did not naturally want capability and genius.t The sequel will show that Dionysius the younger had a natural propensity to what was good and virtuous, and a taste and capacity for arts and sciences. He knew how to set a value upon the merits and talents by which men are distinguished. He delighted in conversing with persons of ability, and from his correspondence with them, made himself capable of the highest improvements. He went so far as to familiarize the throne with the sciences, which of themselves have little or no access to it; and by rendering them in a manrer his favourites, he gave them courage to make their appearance in courts. His protection was the patent of nobility, by which he raised them to honour and distinction. Nor was he insensible to the joys of friendship. In private, he was a good parent, relation, and master, and acquired the affection of all who approached him. He was not naturally inclined to violence or cruelty, and it might be said of him, that he was rather a tyrant by succession and inheritance, than by temper and inclination. We may hence conclude that he might have made a very tolerable prince, (not to say a good one,) had an early and proper care been taken to cultivate the happy disposition which he brought with him into the world. But his father, to whom all merit, even in his own children, gave umbrage, industriously suppressed in him all tendency to goodness, and every noble and elevated sentiment, by a base and obscure education, with the view of preventing his attempting any thing against himself. It was therefore desirable that a person of Dion's character should be thrown in the way of Dionysius, or rather, that the prince should be impressed with a desire to find such a friend. This was what Dion laboured at with wonderful address. He often talked to him of Plato, as the most profound and illustrious of philosophers, whose merit he had experienced, and to whom he was obliged for all he knew. He enlarged upon the elevation of his genius, the extent of his knowledge, the amiableness of his character, and the charms of his conversation. He represented him particularly as the man of the world most capable of forming him in the arts of governing, upon which his own and the people's happiness depended. He told him, that his subjects, governed for the future with lenity and indulgence, as a good father governs his family, would voluntarily render that obedience to his moderation and justice, which force and violence extorted from them against their will; and that by such a conduct he would, from a tyrant, become a just king, to whom all submission would be paid out of affection and gratitude. It is incredible how much these discourses, introduced in conversation from time to time, as if by accident, without affectation, or the appearance of any premeditated design, inflamed the young prince with the desire of knowing and conversing with Plato. He wrote to him in the most importunate and obliging manner to that purpose; he despatched couriers after couriers to hasten his voyage; while Plato, who apprehended the consequences, and had little hopes of any good effect from it, protracted the affair, and without absolutely refusing, sufficiently intimated, that he could not resolve upon it without doing violence to himself. The obstacles and difficulties made to the young * 'H5' dudadela iuía vs. Plat. Epist. iv.-M. Dacier translates these words, pride is always the companion of solitade." I have shown wherein this version is faulty.—Art of teaching the Belles Lettrs. Vol. III. p 505. R 2 t Plut. in Dion. p. 962. Plat. Epist. vii. 327. 328. prince's request, were so far from disgusting him, that they only served, as it commonly happens, to inflame his desire. The Pythagorean philosophers of Grecia Major in Italy joined their entreaties with his and Dion's, who, on his part, redoubled his instances, and used the strongest arguments to conquer Plato's repugnance. "This is not," said he, "the concern of a private per son, but of a powerful prince, whose change of manners will have the same effect throughout his whole dominion, with the extent of which you are not unacquainted. It is himself who makes all these advances; who importunes and solicits you to come to his assistance, and employs the interest of all your friends to that purpose. What more favourable conjuncture could we expect from the divine providence, than that which offers itself? Are you not afraid that your delays will give the flatterers who surround the young prince, the opportunity of drawing him over to themselves, and of seducing him to change his resolution? What reproaches would you not make yourself, and what disbonour would it not be to philosophy, should it ever be said, that Plato, whose Counsels to Dionysius might have established a wise and equitable government in Sicily, abandoned it to all the evils of tyranny, rather than undergo the fatigues of a voyage, or from I know not what other imaginary difficulties?" Plato could not resist solicitations of so much force. Vanquished by the consideration of his own character, and to obviate the reproach of his being a philosopher in words only, without having ever shown himself such in his actions, and conscious besides of the great advantages which Sicily might acquire from his voyage, he suffered himself to be persuaded.* The flatterers of the court of Dionysius, terrified with the resolution he had taken, contrary to their remonstrances, and fearing the presence of Plato, the consequences of which they foresaw, united against him as their common ene my. They rightly judged, that if, according to the new maxims of govern ment, all things were to be measured by the standard of true merit, and no favour to be expected from the prince but for the services dore to the state, they had nothing farther to expect, and might wait their whole lives at court to no manner of purpose. They therefore spared no pains to render Plato's voyage ineffectual, though they were not able to prevent it. They prevailed upon Dionysius to recall Philistus from banishment, who was not only an able soldier, but a great historian, very eloquent and learned, and a zealous advocate for the tyranny. They hoped to find a counterpoise in him against Plato and his philosophy. Upon his being banished by Dionysius the elder, on some personal discontent, he retired into the city of Adria, where it was believed he composed the greatest part of his writings. He wrote the history of Egypt in twelve Looks, that of Sicily in eleven, and of Dionysius the tyrant in six ; all which works are entirely lost. Cicero praises him much, and calls him Thucydides the Less, "pene pusillus Thucydides," to signify that he copied after that author not unhappily. The courtiers at the same time made com. plaints against Dion to Dionysius, accusing him of having held conferences with Herodotus and Heraclides, the secret enemies of that prince, upon measures for subverting the tyranny. This was the state of affairs when Plato arrived in Sicily. He was received with infinite caresses, and with the highest marks of honour and respect. Upon his landing, he found one of the prince's chariots, equally magnificent in its horses and ornaments, waiting for him. The tyrant offered a sacrifice, as if some singular instance of good fortune had befallen him; nor was he mistaken, for a wise man, who is capable of giving..a prince good counsels, is a treasure of inestimable value to a whole nation. But the worth of such a person is rarely known, and more rarely applied to the uses which might be made of it.§ *Plut. p. 962. Hunc (Thucydidem) consecutus est Syracusius Philistus, qui cum Dionysii tyranni familiarissimus es Diod. I. xiii. p. 222. get, otium suum consumpsit in historia scribenda, maximeque Thucydidem est, sicut mihi videtur, imitatus Cic. de Orat. 1. ii. n. 57. Siculus ille creber, acutus, brevis, pene pusillus Thucydides.-Id. Epist. xiii. ad Q. Frt. i. Plut. in Dion. p. 963. |