nature, we should find both the one and the other to have their rise in the same weakness of mind. Besides, there is no disposition so obdurate and savage, but may be vanquished by the force of kind usage and obligations. Dion, influenced by these maxims, pardoned Heraclides.

He engaged next in enclosing the citadel with a new work, and he ordered each of the Syracusans to go and cut a large stake. In the night, he set his soldiers to work, whilst the Syracusans took their rest. He surrounded the citadel in this manner with a strong palisade, before it was perceived; so that in the morning, the greatness of the work, and the suddenness of the execution, were matter of admiration for all the world, as well the enemy as the citizens.

Having finished this palisade, he buried the dead; and dismissing the prisoners taken from the enemy, he summoned an assembly. Heraclides proposed in it, that Dion should be elected generalissimo with supreme authority by sea and land. All the people of worth, and the most considerable of the citizens, were pleased with the proposal, and desired that it might have the sanction of the assembly. But the mariners and artisans who were sorry that Heraclides should lose the office of admiral; and convinced that, however little estimable he might be in all other respects, he would at least be more for the people than Dion, opposed it with all their power. Dion, to avoid exasperating them, did not insist upon that point, and reinstated Heraclides in his command-in-chief at sea. But his opposing the distribution of lands and houses which they were anxious should take place, and his cancelling and annulling whatever had been decreed upon that head, embroiled him with them irretrievably.

Heraclides, taking advantage of a disposition so favourable to his views, did not fail to revive his cabals and intrigues against Dion; as appeared openly by an attempt of his to make himself master of Syracuse, and to shut the gates upon his rival. But it proved unsuccessfu.. A Spartan, who had been sent to the aid of Syracuse, negotiated a new accommodation between Heraclides and Dion, under the strictest oaths, and the strongest assurances of obedience on the side of the former; weak ties to a man void of faith and probity.

The Syracusans having dismissed their sea forces, who were become unnecessary, applied solely to the siege of the citadel, and rebuilt the wall which had been thrown down. As no relief came to the besieged, and bread began to fall short with them, the souldiers grew mutinous, and would no longer observe any discipline. The son of Dionysius, fading himself without hope or resource, entered into a capitulation with Dion, by which he surrendered to him the citadel, with all the arms and other warlike stores. carried his mother and sisters away with him, filled five galleys with his followers and effects, and went to his father; for Dion gave him entire liberty to withdraw unmolested. It is easy to conceive the joy of the city upon his departure. Women, children, old peo

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ple, all hurried to the port to gratify their eyes with so agreeable a spectacle, and to solemnize the joyful day, on which, after so many years' servitude, the sun arose for the first time upon the liberty of Syracuse.

Apollocrates having set sail, and Dion beginning his march to enter the citadel, the princesses, who were there, did not stay till he arrived, but came out to meet him at the gates. Aristomache led the son of Dion; after whom came Arete, his wife, with her eyes fixed upon the ground and full of tears. Dion embraced his sister first, and afterwards his son. Aristomache then presenting Arete to him, spoke thus: The tears you see her shed, at the time that your presence restores us life and joy, the shame expressed in her looks, her silence itself, and her confusion, sufficiently denote the grief with which she is penetrated, at the sight of a husband, to whom another has been substituted contrary to her will, but who alone has always possessed her heart, Shall she salute you as her uncle, shall she embrace you as her husband? Aristomache having spoken in this manner, Dion, with his face bathed in tears, tenderly embraced his wife; gave his son again into her arms, and sent them home to his house; because he thought proper to give up the citadel to the Syracusans, as greater evidence of their liberty.

For himself, after having rewarded with a truly royal magnificence all those who had contributed to his success, each according to their rank and merit; at the height of glory and happiness, and the object of admiration, not only of Sicily, but of Carthage and all Greece, who esteemed him the wisest and most fortunate captain that ever lived, he still retained his original simplicity; as modest and plain in his garb, equipage, and table, as if he had lived in the academy with Plato, and not with people bred in armies, with officers and soldiers, who often breathe nothing but pleasures and magnificence. Accordingly, at the time that Plato wrote to him, That the eyes of all mankind were upon him alone; little affected with that general admiration, his thoughts were always intent upon the academy, that school of wisdom and virtue, where exploits and successes were judged of, not from the external splendour and noise with which they are attended, but from the wise and moderate use which is made of them.

Dion designed to establish a form of government in Syracuse, composed of the Spartan and Cretan, but wherein the aristocracy was always to prevail, and to decide the most important affairs, by the authority, which, according to his plan, was to be vested in a council of elders. Heraclides again opposed him in this scheme, still turbulent and seditious as usual, and solely intent upon gaining the people by flattery, caresses, and other popular arts. One day, when Dion sent for him to the council, he answered that he would not come; and that, being only a private person, he should be in the assembly with the rest of the citizens, whenever it was summoned. His view, in such behaviour, was to make his court to the people,

and to render Dion odious; who, weary of his repeated insults, permitted those to kill him whom he had formerly prevented. They accordingly went to his house and despatched him. We shall see presently Dion's own sense of this action.

The Syracusans were deeply affected with his death; but as Dion solemnized his funeral with great magnificence, followed his body in person at the head of his whole army, and afterwards harangued the people upon the occasion, they were appeased, and forgave him the murder; convinced that it was impossible for the city ever to be free from commotions and sedition, whilst Heraclides and Dion governed together.

After that murder Dion never knew joy nor peace of mind.* A hideous spectre, which he saw in the night, filled him with trouble, terror, and melancholy. The phantom seemed a woman of enormous stature, who, in her attire, air, and haggard lcoks, resembled a fury, and who swept his house with violence. His son's death, who for some unknown grief had thrown himself from the roof of a house, passed for the accomplishment of that ominous apparition, and was the prelude to his misfortunes. Callippus gave the finishing stroke to them. He was an Athenian, with whom Dion had contracted an intimate friendship whilst he lodged in his house at Athens, and with whom he had lived ever after in an entire freedom and unbounded confidence. Callippus, having given himself up to his ambitious views, and entertained thoughts of making himself master of Syracuse, threw off all regard for the sacred ties of friendship and hospitality, and devised how to get rid of Dion, who was the sole obstacle to his designs. Notwithstanding his care to conceal them, they got air, and came to the ears of Dion's sister and wife, who lost no time, and spared no pains, to discover the truth by a very strict inquiry. To prevent its effects, he went to them with tears in his eyes, and the appearance of being inconsolable, that any body should suspect him of such a crime, or think him capable of so black a design. They insisted upon his taking the great oath, as it was called. The person who swore it, was wrapped in the purple mantle of the goddess Proserpine, and holding a lighted torch in his hand, pronounced in the temple the most dreadful execrations against himself which it is possible to imagine.

The oath cost him nothing, but did not convince the princesses. They daily received new intimations of his guilt from several hands, as did Dion himself, and all his friends in general persuaded him to prevent Callippus's crime by a just and sudden punishment. But he never could resolve upon it. The death of Heraclides, which he looked upon as a horrible blot upon his reputation and virtue, was perpetually present to his troubled imagination, and renewed by continual terrors his grief and repentance. Tormented night and day by that cruel remembrance, he professed that he had rather *Plut. p. 981. 683. Diod p. 432.

die a thousand deaths, and present his throat himself to whoever would kill him, than live under the necessity of continual precautions, not only against his enemies, but the best of his friends. Callippus ill deserved that name. He hastened to the execution of his crime, and caused Dion to be assassinated in his own house by some Zacynthian soldiers, who were entirely devoted to his The sister and wife of that prince were put into prison, where the latter was delivered of a son, which she resolved to nurse there herself.

interest.

A M. 3646.

After this murder, Callippus was for some time in a Ant. J. C. 358. splendid condition, having made himself master of Syracuse by the means of the troops, who were entirely devoted to his service, and whom he had gained by the gifts he bestowed upon them. The Pagans believed, that the Divinity ought to punish great crimes in a sudden and extraordinary manner in this life; and Plutarch observes, that the success of Callippus occasioned very great complaints against the gods, as if they suffered calmly, and without indignation, the vilest of men to raise himself to so exalted a fortune by so detestable and impious a method. But Providence was not long without justifying itself, for Callippus soon suffered the punishment of his guilt. Having marched with his troops to take Catana, Syracuse revolted against him, and threw off the yoke of so shameful a subjection. He afterwards attacked Messina, where he lost abundance of men, and particularly all the Zacynthian soldiers, who had murdered Dion. No city of Sicily would receive him, but all detesting him as the most execrable of wretches, he retired to Rhegium, where, after having led for some time a miserable life, he was killed by Leptines and Polyperchon, and, it was said, with the same dagger with which Dion had been assassinated.

History has few examples of so striking an attention of Providence to punish great crimes, such as murder, perfidy, treason, either in the authors of those crimes themselves, who commanded or executed them, or in the accomplices who were any way concerned in them. The divine justice displays itself from time to time in this manner, to prove that it is not unconcerted and inattentive; and to prevent the inundation of crimes, which an entire impunity would occasion, but it does not always distinguish itself by remarkable chastisements in this world, to intimate to mankind, that greater punishments are reserved for guilt in the next.

As for Aristomache and Arete, as soon as they came out of prison. Icetas of Syracuse, one of Dion's friends, received them into his house, and treated them at first with an attention, fidelity, and generosity of the most exemplary kind, had he persevered: but complying at last with Dion's enemies, he provided a bark for them, and having put them on board, under the pretence of sending them to Peloponnesus, he gave orders to those who were to carry them, to kiil them on the voyage, and to throw them into the sea. He was not long without receiving the chastisement due to his black

treachery; for being taken by Timoleon, he was put to death. The Syracusans, fully to avenge Dion, killed also the two daughters of that traitor.

The relations and friends of Dion,* soon after his death, had written to Plato, to consult him upon the manner in which they should behave in the present troubled and fluctuating condition of Syracuse, and to know what sort of government it was proper to establish there. Plato, who knew the Syracusans were equally incapable of entire liberty or absolute servitude, exhorted them strenuously to pacify all things as soon as possible, and for that purpose, to change the tyranny, of which the very name was odious, into a lawful sovereignty, which would make subjection easy and agreeable. He advised them (and, according to him, it had been Dion's opinion) to create three kings, one to be Hipparinus, Dion's son; another Hipparinus, Dionysius the younger's brother, who seemed to be well inclined towards the people; and Dionysius himself, if he would comply with such conditions as should be duly prescribed him; and to invest them with an authority not much unlike that of the kings of Sparta. By the same scheme, thirty-five magistrates were to be appointed, to take care that the laws should be duly observed; these were to have great authority both in times of war and peace, and to serve as a balance between the power of the kings, the senate, and the people.

It does not appear that this advice was ever followed, and indeed it had great inconveniences. It is only known, that Hipparinus, Dionysius's brother, having landed at Syracuse with a fleet and considerable forces, expelled Callippus, and exercised the sovereign power two years.

The history of Sicily, which I have related thus far, includes about fifty years, beginning with Dionysius the elder, who reigned thirty-eight, to the death of Dion.

SECTION IV.

Character of Dion.

It is not easy to find so many excellent qualities in one and the same person as were united in Dion. I do not consider, in this place, his wonderful taste for the sciences, his art of associating them with the greatest employments of war and peace, of extracting from them the rules of conduct and maxims of government, and of making them an equally useful and honourable entertainment of his leisure; I confine myself to the statesman and patriot; and in this view, how admirable does he appear! Greatness of soul, elevation of sentiments, generosity in bestowing his wealth, heroic valour in battle, attended with a coolness of temper, and a prudence scarce to be paralleled; a mind vast and capable of the highest views, a con