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  "chapter": {
    "num": 24,
    "slug": "24-the-seventh-letter",
    "title": "The Seventh Letter",
    "of": 24,
    "words": 13501,
    "text": "## The Seventh Letter\n\n\n#### 360 BC\n\n#### translated by J. Harward\n\n##### Oxford at The Clarendon Press, London [1928]\n\nPLATO TO THE RELATIVES AND FRIENDS OF DION. WELFARE.\n\nYou write to me that I must consider your views the same as those of\nDion, and you urge me to aid your cause so far as I can in word and\ndeed. My answer is that, if you have the same opinion and desire as he\nhad, I consent to aid your cause; but if not, I shall think more\nthan once about it. Now what his purpose and desire was, I can\ninform you from no mere conjecture but from positive knowledge. For\nwhen I made my first visit to Sicily, being then about forty years\nold, Dion was of the same age as Hipparinos is now, and the opinion\nwhich he then formed was that which he always retained, I mean the\nbelief that the Syracusans ought to be free and governed by the best\nlaws. So it is no matter for surprise if some God should make\nHipparinos adopt the same opinion as Dion about forms of government.\nBut it is well worth while that you should all, old as well as\nyoung, hear the way in which this opinion was formed, and I will\nattempt to give you an account of it from the beginning. For the\npresent is a suitable opportunity.\n\nIn my youth I went through the same experience as many other men.\nI fancied that if, early in life, I became my own master, I should\nat once embark on a political career. And I found myself confronted\nwith the following occurrences in the public affairs of my own city.\nThe existing constitution being generally condemned, a revolution took\nplace, and fifty-one men came to the front as rulers of the\nrevolutionary government, namely eleven in the city and ten in the\nPeiraeus-each of these bodies being in charge of the market and\nmunicipal matters-while thirty were appointed rulers with full\npowers over public affairs as a whole. Some of these were relatives\nand acquaintances of mine, and they at once invited me to share in\ntheir doings, as something to which I had a claim. The effect on me\nwas not surprising in the case of a young man. I considered that\nthey would, of course, so manage the State as to bring men out of a\nbad way of life into a good one. So I watched them very closely to see\nwhat they would do.\n\nAnd seeing, as I did, that in quite a short time they made the\nformer government seem by comparison something precious as gold-for\namong other things they tried to send a friend of mine, the aged\nSocrates, whom I should scarcely scruple to describe as the most\nupright man of that day, with some other persons to carry off one of\nthe citizens by force to execution, in order that, whether he wished\nit, or not, he might share the guilt of their conduct; but he would\nnot obey them, risking all consequences in preference to becoming a\npartner in their iniquitous deeds-seeing all these things and others\nof the same kind on a considerable scale, I disapproved of their\nproceedings, and withdrew from any connection with the abuses of the\ntime.\n\nNot long after that a revolution terminated the power of the\nthirty and the form of government as it then was. And once more,\nthough with more hesitation, I began to be moved by the desire to take\npart in public and political affairs. Well, even in the new\ngovernment, unsettled as it was, events occurred which one would\nnaturally view with disapproval; and it was not surprising that in a\nperiod of revolution excessive penalties were inflicted by some\npersons on political opponents, though those who had returned from\nexile at that time showed very considerable forbearance. But once more\nit happened that some of those in power brought my friend Socrates,\nwhom I have mentioned, to trial before a court of law, laying a most\niniquitous charge against him and one most inappropriate in his\ncase: for it was on a charge of impiety that some of them prosecuted\nand others condemned and executed the very man who would not\nparticipate in the iniquitous arrest of one of the friends of the\nparty then in exile, at the time when they themselves were in exile\nand misfortune.\n\nAs I observed these incidents and the men engaged in public affairs,\nthe laws too and the customs, the more closely I examined them and the\nfarther I advanced in life, the more difficult it seemed to me to\nhandle public affairs aright. For it was not possible to be active\nin politics without friends and trustworthy supporters; and to find\nthese ready to my hand was not an easy matter, since public affairs at\nAthens were not carried on in accordance with the manners and\npractices of our fathers; nor was there any ready method by which I\ncould make new friends. The laws too, written and unwritten, were\nbeing altered for the worse, and the evil was growing with startling\nrapidity. The result was that, though at first I had been full of a\nstrong impulse towards political life, as I looked at the course of\naffairs and saw them being swept in all directions by contending\ncurrents, my head finally began to swim; and, though I did not stop\nlooking to see if there was any likelihood of improvement in these\nsymptoms and in the general course of public life, I postponed\naction till a suitable opportunity should arise. Finally, it became\nclear to me, with regard to all existing cornmunities, that they\nwere one and all misgoverned. For their laws have got into a state\nthat is almost incurable, except by some extraordinary reform with\ngood luck to support it. And I was forced to say, when praising true\nphilosophy that it is by this that men are enabled to see what justice\nin public and private life really is. Therefore, I said, there will be\nno cessation of evils for the sons of men, till either those who are\npursuing a right and true philosophy receive sovereign power in the\nStates, or those in power in the States by some dispensation of\nprovidence become true philosophers.\n\nWith these thoughts in my mind I came to Italy and Sicily on my\nfirst visit. My first impressions on arrival were those of strong\ndisapproval-disapproval of the kind of life which was there called the\nlife of happiness, stuffed full as it was with the banquets of the\nItalian Greeks and Syracusans, who ate to repletion twice every day,\nand were never without a partner for the night; and disapproval of the\nhabits which this manner of life produces. For with these habits\nformed early in life, no man under heaven could possibly attain to\nwisdom-human nature is not capable of such an extraordinary\ncombination. Temperance also is out of the question for such a man;\nand the same applies to virtue generally. No city could remain in a\nstate of tranquillity under any laws whatsoever, when men think it\nright to squander all their property in extravagant, and consider it a\nduty to be idle in everything else except eating and drinking and\nthe laborious prosecution of debauchery. It follows necessarily that\nthe constitutions of such cities must be constantly changing,\ntyrannies, oligarchies and democracies succeeding one another, while\nthose who hold the power cannot so much as endure the name of any form\nof government which maintains justice and equality of rights.\n\nWith a mind full of these thoughts, on the top of my previous\nconvictions, I crossed over to Syracuse-led there perhaps by\nchance-but it really looks as if some higher power was even then\nplanning to lay a foundation for all that has now come to pass with\nregard to Dion and Syracuse-and for further troubles too, I fear,\nunless you listen to the advice which is now for the second time\noffered by me. What do I mean by saying that my arrival in Sicily at\nthat movement proved to be the foundation on which all the sequel\nrests? I was brought into close intercourse with Dion who was then a\nyoung man, and explained to him my views as to the ideals at which men\nshould aim, advising him to carry them out in practice. In doing\nthis I seem to have been unaware that I was, in a fashion, without\nknowing it, contriving the overthrow of the tyranny which;\nsubsequently took place. For Dion, who rapidly assimilated my teaching\nas he did all forms of knowledge, listened to me with an eagerness\nwhich I had never seen equalled in any young man, and resolved to live\nfor the future in a better way than the majority of Italian and\nSicilian Greeks, having set his affection on virtue in preference to\npleasure and self-indulgence. The result was that until the death of\nDionysios he lived in a way which rendered him somewhat unpopular\namong those whose manner of life was that which is usual in the courts\nof despots.\n\nAfter that event he came to the conclusion that this conviction,\nwhich he himself had gained under the influence of good teaching,\nwas not likely to be confined to himself. Indeed, he saw it being\nactually implanted in other minds-not many perhaps, but certainly in\nsome; and he thought that with the aid of the Gods, Dionysios might\nperhaps become one of these, and that, if such a thing did come to\npass, the result would be a life of unspeakable happiness both for\nhimself and for the rest of the Syracusans. Further, he thought it\nessential that I should come to Syracuse by all manner of means and\nwith the utmost possible speed to be his partner in these plans,\nremembering in his own case how readily intercourse with me had\nproduced in him a longing for the noblest and best life. And if it\nshould produce a similar effect on Dionysios, as his aim was that it\nshould, he had great hope that, without bloodshed, loss of life, and\nthose disastrous events which have now taken place, he would be able\nto introduce the true life of happiness throughout the whole\nterritory.\n\nHolding these sound views, Dion persuaded Dionysios to send for\nme; he also wrote himself entreating me to come by all manner of means\nand with the utmost possible speed, before certain other persons\ncoming in contact with Dionysios should turn him aside into some way\nof life other than the best. What he said, though perhaps it is rather\nlong to repeat, was as follows: \"What opportunities,\" he said,\n\"shall we wait for, greater than those now offered to us by\nProvidence?\" And he described the Syracusan empire in Italy and\nSicily, his own influential position in it, and the youth of Dionysios\nand how strongly his desire was directed towards philosophy and\neducation. His own nephews and relatives, he said, would be readily\nattracted towards the principles and manner of life described by me,\nand would be most influential in attracting Dionysios in the same\ndirection, so that, now if ever, we should see the accomplishment of\nevery hope that the same persons might actually become both\nphilosophers and the rulers of great States. These were the appeals\naddressed to me and much more to the same effect.\n\nMy own opinion, so far as the young men were concerned, and the\nprobable line which their conduct would take, was full of\napprehension-for young men are quick in forming desires, which often\ntake directions conflicting with one another. But I knew that the\ncharacter of Dion's mind was naturally a stable one and had also the\nadvantage of somewhat advanced years.\n\nTherefore, I pondered the matter and was in two minds as to\nwhether I ought to listen to entreaties and go, or how I ought to act;\nand finally the scale turned in favour of the view that, if ever\nanyone was to try to carry out in practice my ideas about laws and\nconstitutions, now was the time for making the attempt; for if only\nI could fully convince one man, I should have secured thereby the\naccomplishment of all good things.\n\nWith these views and thus nerved to the task, I sailed from home, in\nthe spirit which some imagined, but principally through a feeling of\nshame with regard to myself, lest I might some day appear to myself\nwholly and solely a mere man of words, one who would never of his\nown will lay his hand to any act. Also there was reason to think\nthat I should be betraying first and foremost my friendship and\ncomradeship with Dion, who in very truth was in a position of\nconsiderable danger. If therefore anything should happen to him, or if\nhe were banished by Dionysios and his other enemies and coming to us\nas exile addressed this question to me: \"Plato, I have come to you\nas a fugitive, not for want of hoplites, nor because I had no\ncavalry for defence against my enemies, but for want of words and\npower of persuasion, which I knew to be a special gift of yours,\nenabling you to lead young men into the path of goodness and\njustice, and to establish in every case relations of friendship and\ncomradeship among them. It is for the want of this assistance on\nyour part that I have left Syracuse and am here now. And the\ndisgrace attaching to your treatment of me is a small matter. But\nphilosophy-whose praises you are always singing, while you say she\nis held in dishonour by the rest of mankind-must we not say that\nphilosophy along with me has now been betrayed, so far as your\naction was concerned? Had I been living at Megara, you would certainly\nhave come to give me your aid towards the objects for which I asked\nit; or you would have thought yourself the most contemptible of\nmankind. But as it is, do you think that you will escape the\nreputation of cowardice by making excuses about the distance of the\njourney, the length of the sea voyage, and the amount of labour\ninvolved? Far from it.\" To reproaches of this kind what creditable\nreply could I have made? Surely none.\n\nI took my departure, therefore, acting, so far as a man can act,\nin obedience to reason and justice, and for these reasons leaving my\nown occupations, which were certainly not discreditable ones, to put\nmyself under a tyranny which did not seem likely to harmonise with\nmy teaching or with myself. By my departure I secured my own freedom\nfrom the displeasure of Zeus Xenios, and made myself clear of any\ncharge on the part of philosophy, which would have been exposed to\ndetraction, if any disgrace had come upon me for faint-heartedness and\ncowardice.\n\nOn my arrival, to cut a long story short, I found the court of\nDionysios full of intrigues and of attempts to create in the sovereign\nill-feeling against Dion. I combated these as far as I could, but with\nvery little success; and in the fourth month or thereabouts,\ncharging Dion with conspiracy to seize the throne, Dionysios put him\non board a small boat and expelled him from Syracuse with ignominy.\nAll of us who were Dion's friends were afraid that he might take\nvengeance on one or other of us as an accomplice in Dion's conspiracy.\nWith regard to me, there was even a rumour current in Syracuse that\nI had been put to death by Dionysios as the cause of all that had\noccurred. Perceiving that we were all in this state of mind and\napprehending that our fears might lead to some serious consequence, he\nnow tried to win all of us over by kindness: me in particular he\nencouraged, bidding me be of good cheer and entreating me on all\ngrounds to remain. For my flight from him was not likely to redound to\nhis credit, but my staying might do so. Therefore, he made a great\npretence of entreating me. And we know that the entreaties of\nsovereigns are mixed with compulsion. So to secure his object he\nproceeded to render my departure impossible, bringing me into the\nacropolis, and establishing me in quarters from which not a single\nship's captain would have taken me away against the will of Dionysios,\nnor indeed without a special messenger sent by him to order my\nremoval. Nor was there a single merchant, or a single official in\ncharge of points of departure from the country, who would have allowed\nme to depart unaccompanied, and would not have promptly seized me\nand taken me back to Dionysios, especially since a statement had now\nbeen circulated contradicting the previous rumours and giving out that\nDionysios was becoming extraordinarily attached to Plato. What were\nthe facts about this attachment? I must tell the truth. As time went\non, and as intercourse made him acquainted with my disposition and\ncharacter, he did become more and more attached to me, and wished me\nto praise him more than I praised Dion, and to look upon him as more\nspecially my friend than Dion, and he was extraordinarily eager\nabout this sort of thing. But when confronted with the one way in\nwhich this might have been done, if it was to be done at all, he\nshrank from coming into close and intimate relations with me as a\npupil and listener to my discourses on philosophy, fearing the\ndanger suggested by mischief-makers, that he might be ensnared, and so\nDion would prove to have accomplished all his object. I endured all\nthis patiently, retaining the purpose with which I had come and the\nhope that he might come to desire the philosophic life. But his\nresistance prevailed against me.\n\nThe time of my first visit to Sicily and my stay there was taken\nup with all these incidents. On a later occasion I left home and again\ncame on an urgent summons from Dionysios. But before giving the\nmotives and particulars of my conduct then and showing how suitable\nand right it was, I must first, in order that I may not treat as the\nmain point what is only a side issue, give you my advice as to what\nyour acts should be in the present position of affairs; afterwards, to\nsatisfy those who put the question why I came a second time, I will\ndeal fully with the facts about my second visit; what I have now to\nsay is this.\n\nHe who advises a sick man, whose manner of life is prejudicial to\nhealth, is clearly bound first of all to change his patient's manner\nof life, and if the patient is willing to obey him, he may go on to\ngive him other advice. But if he is not willing, I shall consider\none who declines to advise such a patient to be a man and a physician,\nand one who gives in to him to be unmanly and unprofessional. In the\nsame way with regard to a State, whether it be under a single ruler or\nmore than one, if, while the government is being carried on\nmethodically and in a right course, it asks advice about any details\nof policy, it is the part of a wise man to advise such people. But\nwhen men are travelling altogether outside the path of right\ngovernment and flatly refuse to move in the right path, and start by\ngiving notice to their adviser that he must leave the government alone\nand make no change in it under penalty of death-if such men should\norder their counsellors to pander to their wishes and desires and to\nadvise them in what way their object may most readily and easily be\nonce for all accomplished, I should consider as unmanly one who\naccepts the duty of giving such forms of advice, and one who refuses\nit to be a true man.\n\nHolding these views, whenever anyone consults me about any of the\nweightiest matters affecting his own life, as, for instance, the\nacquisition of property or the proper treatment of body or mind, if it\nseems to me that his daily life rests on any system, or if he seems\nlikely to listen to advice about the things on which he consults me, I\nadvise him with readiness, and do not content myself with giving him a\nmerely perfunctory answer. But if a man does not consult me at all, or\nevidently does not intend to follow my advice, I do not take the\ninitiative in advising such a man, and will not use compulsion to him,\neven if he be my own son. I would advise a slave under such\ncircumstances, and would use compulsion to him if he were unwilling.\nTo a father or mother I do not think that piety allows one to offer\ncompulsion, unless they are suffering from an attack of insanity;\nand if they are following any regular habits of life which please them\nbut do not please me, I would not offend them by offering useless,\nadvice, nor would I flatter them or truckle to them, providing them\nwith the means of satisfying desires which I myself would sooner die\nthan cherish. The wise man should go through life with the same\nattitude of mind towards his country. If she should appear to him to\nbe following a policy which is not a good one, he should say so,\nprovided that his words are not likely either to fall on deaf ears\nor to lead to the loss of his own life. But force against his native\nland he should not use in order to bring about a change of\nconstitution, when it is not possible for the best constitution to\nbe introduced without driving men into exile or putting them to death;\nhe should keep quiet and offer up prayers for his own welfare and\nfor that of his country.\n\nThese are the principles in accordance with which I should advise\nyou, as also, jointly with Dion, I advised Dionysios, bidding him in\nthe first place to live his daily life in a way that would make him as\nfar as possible master of himself and able to gain faithful friends\nand supporters, in order that he might not have the same experience as\nhis father. For his father, having taken under his rule many great\ncities of Sicily which had been utterly destroyed by the barbarians,\nwas not able to found them afresh and to establish in them trustworthy\ngovernments carried on by his own supporters, either by men who had no\nties of blood with him, or by his brothers whom he had brought up when\nthey were younger, and had raised from humble station to high office\nand from poverty to immense wealth. Not one of these was he able to\nwork upon by persuasion, instruction, services and ties of kindred, so\nas to make him a partner in his rule; and he showed himself inferior\nto Darius with a sevenfold inferiority. For Darius did not put his\ntrust in brothers or in men whom he had brought up, but only in his\nconfederates in the overthrow of the Mede and Eunuch; and to these\nhe assigned portions of his empire, seven in number, each of them\ngreater than all Sicily; and they were faithful to him and did not\nattack either him or one another. Thus he showed a pattern of what the\ngood lawgiver and king ought to be; for he drew up laws by which he\nhas secured the Persian empire in safety down to the present time.\n\nAgain, to give another instance, the Athenians took under their rule\nvery many cities not founded by themselves, which had been hard hit by\nthe barbarians but were still in existence, and maintained their\nrule over these for seventy years, because they had in each them men\nwhom they could trust. But Dionysios, who had gathered the whole of\nSicily into a single city, and was so clever that he trusted no one,\nonly secured his own safety with great difficulty. For he was badly\noff for trustworthy friends; and there is no surer criterion of virtue\nand vice than this, whether a man is or is not destitute of such\nfriends.\n\nThis, then, was the advice which Dion and I gave to Dionysios,\nsince, owing to bringing up which he had received from his father,\nhe had had no advantages in the way of education or of suitable\nlessons, in the first place...; and, in the second place, that,\nafter starting in this way, he should make friends of others among his\nconnections who were of the same age and were in sympathy with his\npursuit of virtue, but above all that he should be in harmony with\nhimself; for this it was of which he was remarkably in need. This we\ndid not say in plain words, for that would not have been safe; but\nin covert language we maintained that every man in this way would save\nboth himself and those whom he was leading, and if he did not follow\nthis path, he would do just the opposite of this. And after proceeding\non the course which we described, and making himself a wise and\ntemperate man, if he were then to found again the cities of Sicily\nwhich had been laid waste, and bind them together by laws and\nconstitutions, so as to be loyal to him and to one another in their\nresistance to the attacks of the barbarians, he would, we told him,\nmake his father's empire not merely double what it was but many\ntimes greater. For, if these things were done, his way would be\nclear to a more complete subjugation of the Carthaginians than that\nwhich befell them in Gelon's time, whereas in our own day his father\nhad followed the opposite course of levying attribute for the\nbarbarians. This was the language and these the exhortations given\nby us, the conspirators against Dionysios according to the charges\ncirculated from various sources-charges which, prevailing as they\ndid with Dionysios, caused the expulsion of Dion and reduced me to a\nstate of apprehension. But when-to summarise great events which\nhappened in no great time-Dion returned from the Peloponnese and\nAthens, his advice to Dionysios took the form of action.\n\nTo proceed-when Dion had twice over delivered the city and\nrestored it to the citizens, the Syracusans went through the same\nchanges of feeling towards him as Dionysios had gone through, when\nDion attempted first to educate him and train him to be a sovereign\nworthy of supreme power and, when that was done, to be his coadjutor\nin all the details of his career. Dionysios listened to those who\ncirculated slanders to the effect that Dion was aiming at the\ntyranny in all the steps which he took at that time his intention\nbeing that Dionysios, when his mind had fallen under the spell of\nculture, should neglect the government and leave it in his hands,\nand that he should then appropriate it for himself and treacherously\ndepose Dionysios. These slanders were victorious on that occasion;\nthey were so once more when circulated among the Syracusans, winning a\nvictory which took an extraordinary course and proved disgraceful to\nits authors. The story of what then took place is one which deserves\ncareful attention on the part of those who are inviting me to deal\nwith the present situation.\n\nI, an Athenian and friend of Dion, came as his ally to the court\nof Dionysios, in order that I might create good will in place of a\nstate war; in my conflict with the authors of these slanders I was\nworsted. When Dionysios tried to persuade me by offers of honours\nand wealth to attach myself to him, and with a view to giving a decent\ncolour to Dion's expulsion a witness and friend on his side, he failed\ncompletely in his attempt. Later on, when Dion returned from exile, he\ntook with him from Athens two brothers, who had been his friends,\nnot from community in philosophic study, but with the ordinary\ncompanionship common among most friends, which they form as the result\nof relations of hospitality and the intercourse which occurs when\none man initiates the other in the mysteries. It was from this kind of\nintercourse and from services connected with his return that these two\nhelpers in his restoration became his companions. Having come to\nSicily, when they perceived that Dion had been misrepresented to the\nSicilian Greeks, whom he had liberated, as one that plotted to\nbecome monarch, they not only betrayed their companion and friend, but\nshared personally in the guilt of his murder, standing by his\nmurderers as supporters with weapons in their hands. The guilt and\nimpiety of their conduct I neither excuse nor do I dwell upon it.\nFor many others make it their business to harp upon it, and will\nmake it their business in the future. But I do take exception to the\nstatement that, because they were Athenians, they have brought shame\nupon this city. For I say that he too is an Athenian who refused to\nbetray this same Dion, when he had the offer of riches and many\nother honours. For his was no common or vulgar friendship, but\nrested on community in liberal education, and this is the one thing in\nwhich a wise man will put his trust, far more than in ties of personal\nand bodily kinship. So the two murderers of Dion were not of\nsufficient importance to be causes of disgrace to this city, as though\nthey had been men of any note.\n\nAll this has been said with a view to counselling the friends and\nfamily of Dion. And in addition to this I give for the third time to\nyou the same advice and counsel which I have given twice before to\nothers-not to enslave Sicily or any other State to despots-this my\ncounsel but-to put it under the rule of laws-for the other course is\nbetter neither for the enslavers nor for the enslaved, for themselves,\ntheir children's children and descendants; the attempt is in every way\nfraught with disaster. It is only small and mean natures that are bent\nupon seizing such gains for themselves, natures that know nothing of\ngoodness and justice, divine as well as human, in this life and in the\nnext.\n\nThese are the lessons which I tried to teach, first to Dion,\nsecondly to Dionysios, and now for the third time to you. Do you\nobey me thinking of Zeus the Preserver, the patron of third\nventures, and looking at the lot of Dionysios and Dion, of whom the\none who disobeyed me is living in dishonour, while he who obeyed me\nhas died honourably. For the one thing which is wholly right and noble\nis to strive for that which is most honourable for a man's self and\nfor his country, and to face the consequences whatever they may be.\nFor none of us can escape death, nor, if a man could do so, would\nit, as the vulgar suppose, make him happy. For nothing evil or good,\nwhich is worth mentioning at all, belongs to things soulless; but good\nor evil will be the portion of every soul, either while attached to\nthe body or when separated from it.\n\nAnd we should in very truth always believe those ancient and\nsacred teachings, which declare that the soul is immortal, that it has\njudges, and suffers the greatest penalties when it has been\nseparated from the body. Therefore also we should consider it a lesser\nevil to suffer great wrongs and outrages than to do them. The covetous\nman, impoverished as he is in the soul, turns a deaf ear to this\nteaching; or if he hears it, he laughs it to scorn with fancied\nsuperiority, and shamelessly snatches for himself from every source\nwhatever his bestial fancy supposes will provide for him the means\nof eating or drinking or glutting himself with that slavish and\ngross pleasure which is falsely called after the goddess of love. He\nis blind and cannot see in those acts of plunder which are accompanied\nby impiety what heinous guilt is attached to each wrongful deed, and\nthat the offender must drag with him the burden of this impiety\nwhile he moves about on earth, and when he has travelled beneath the\nearth on a journey which has every circumstance of shame and misery.\n\nIt was by urging these and other like truths that I convinced\nDion, and it is I who have the best right to be angered with his\nmurderers in much the same way as I have with Dionysios. For both they\nand he have done the greatest injury to me, and I might almost say\nto all mankind, they by slaying the man that was willing to act\nrighteously, and he by refusing to act righteously during the whole of\nhis rule, when he held supreme power, in which rule if philosophy\nand power had really met together, it would have sent forth a light to\nall men, Greeks and barbarians, establishing fully for all the true\nbelief that there can be no happiness either for the community or\nfor the individual man, unless he passes his life under the rule of\nrighteousness with the guidance of wisdom, either possessing these\nvirtues in himself, or living under the rule of godly men and having\nreceived a right training and education in morals. These were the aims\nwhich Dionysios injured, and for me everything else is a trifling\ninjury compared with this.\n\nThe murderer of Dion has, without knowing it, done the same as\nDionysios. For as regards Dion, I know right well, so far as it is\npossible for a man to say anything positively about other men, that,\nif he had got the supreme power, he would never have turned his mind\nto any other form of rule, but that, dealing first with Syracuse,\nhis own native land, when he had made an end of her slavery, clothed\nher in bright apparel, and given her the garb of freedom, he would\nthen by every means in his power have ordered aright the lives of\nhis fellow-citizens by suitable and excellent laws; and the thing next\nin order, which he would have set his heart to accomplish, was to\nfound again all the States of Sicily and make them free from the\nbarbarians, driving out some and subduing others, an easier task for\nhim than it was for Hiero. If these things had been accomplished by\na man who was just and brave and temperate and a philosopher, the same\nbelief with regard to virtue would have been established among the\nmajority which, if Dionysios had been won over, would have been\nestablished, I might almost say, among all mankind and would have\ngiven them salvation. But now some higher power or avenging fiend\nhas fallen upon them, inspiring them with lawlessness, godlessness and\nacts of recklessness issuing from ignorance, the seed from which all\nevils for all mankind take root and grow and will in future bear the\nbitterest harvest for those who brought them into being. This\nignorance it was which in that second venture wrecked and ruined\neverything.\n\nAnd now, for good luck's sake, let us on this third venture\nabstain from words of ill omen. But, nevertheless, I advise you, his\nfriends, to imitate in Dion his love for his country and his temperate\nhabits of daily life, and to try with better auspices to carry out his\nwishes-what these were, you have heard from me in plain words. And\nwhoever among you cannot live the simple Dorian life according to\nthe customs of your forefathers, but follows the manner of life of\nDion's murderers and of the Sicilians, do not invite this man to\njoin you, or expect him to do any loyal or salutary act; but invite\nall others to the work of resettling all the States of Sicily and\nestablishing equality under the laws, summoning them from Sicily\nitself and from the whole Peloponnese-and have no fear even of Athens;\nfor there, also, are men who excel all mankind in their devotion to\nvirtue and in hatred of the reckless acts of those who shed the\nblood of friends.\n\nBut if, after all, this is work for a future time, whereas immediate\naction is called for by the disorders of all sorts and kinds which\narise every day from your state of civil strife, every man to whom\nProvidence has given even a moderate share of right intelligence ought\nto know that in times of civil strife there is no respite from trouble\ntill the victors make an end of feeding their grudge by combats and\nbanishments and executions, and of wreaking their vengeance on their\nenemies. They should master themselves and, enacting impartial laws,\nframed not to gratify themselves more than the conquered party, should\ncompel men to obey these by two restraining forces, respect and\nfear; fear, because they are the masters and can display superior\nforce; respect, because they rise superior to pleasures and are\nwilling and able to be servants to the laws. There is no other way\nsave this for terminating the troubles of a city that is in a state of\ncivil strife; but a constant continuance of internal disorders,\nstruggles, hatred and mutual distrust is the common lot of cities\nwhich are in that plight.\n\nTherefore, those who have for the time being gained the upper\nhand, when they desire to secure their position, must by their own act\nand choice select from all Hellas men whom they have ascertained to be\nthe best for the purpose. These must in the first place be men of\nmature years, who have children and wives at home, and, as far as\npossible, a long line of ancestors of good repute, and all must be\npossessed of sufficient property. For a city of ten thousand\nhouseholders their numbers should be fifty; that is enough. These they\nmust induce to come from their own homes by entreaties and the promise\nof the highest honours; and having induced them to come they must\nentreat and command them to draw up laws after binding themselves by\noath to show no partiality either to conquerors or to conquered, but\nto give equal and common rights to the whole State.\n\nWhen laws have been enacted, what everything then hinges on is this.\nIf the conquerors show more obedience to the laws than the\nconquered, the whole State will be full of security and happiness, and\nthere will be an escape from all your troubles. But if they do not,\nthen do not summon me or any other helper to aid you against those who\ndo not obey the counsel I now give you. For this course is akin to\nthat which Dion and I attempted to carry out with our hearts set on\nthe welfare of Syracuse. It is indeed a second best course. The\nfirst and best was that scheme of welfare to all mankind which we\nattempted to carry out with the co-operation of Dionysios; but some\nchance, mightier than men, brought it to nothing. Do you now, with\ngood fortune attending you and with Heaven's help, try to bring your\nefforts to a happier issue.\n\nLet this be the end of my advice and injunction and of the narrative\nof my first visit to Dionysios. Whoever wishes may next hear of my\nsecond journey and voyage, and learn that it was a reasonable and\nsuitable proceeding. My first period of residence in Sicily was\noccupied in the way which I related before giving my advice to the\nrelatives and friends of Dion. After those events I persuaded\nDionysios by such arguments as I could to let me go; and we made an\nagreement as to what should be done when peace was made; for at that\ntime there was a state of war in Sicily. Dionysios said that, when\nhe had put the affairs of his empire in a position of greater safety\nfor himself, he would send for Dion and me again; and he desired\nthat Dion should regard what had befallen him not as an exile, but\nas a change of residence. I agreed to come again on these conditions.\n\nWhen peace had been made, he began sending for me; he requested that\nDion should wait for another year, but begged that I should by all\nmeans come. Dion now kept urging and entreating me to go. For\npersistent rumours came from Sicily that Dionysios was now once more\npossessed by an extraordinary desire for philosophy. For this reason\nDion pressed me urgently not to decline his invitation. But though I\nwas well aware that as regards philosophy such symptoms were not\nuncommon in young men, still it seemed to me safer at that time to\npart company altogether with Dion and Dionysios; and I offended both\nof them by replying that I was an old man, and that the steps now\nbeing taken were quite at variance with the previous agreement.\n\nAfter this, it seems, Archytes came to the court of Dionysios.\nBefore my departure I had brought him and his Tarentine circle into\nfriendly relations with Dionysios. There were some others in\nSyracuse who had received some instruction from Dion, and others had\nlearnt from these, getting their heads full of erroneous teaching on\nphilosophical questions. These, it seems, were attempting to hold\ndiscussions with Dionysios on questions connected with such\nsubjects, in the idea that he had been fully instructed in my views.\nNow is not at all devoid of natural gifts for learning, and he has a\ngreat craving for honour and glory. What was said probably pleased\nhim, and he felt some shame when it became clear that he had not taken\nadvantage of my teaching during my visit. For these reasons he\nconceived a desire for more definite instruction, and his love of\nglory was an additional incentive to him. The real reasons why he\nhad learnt nothing during my previous visit have just been set forth\nin the preceding narrative. Accordingly, now that I was safe at home\nand had refused his second invitation, as I just now related,\nDionysios seems to have felt all manner of anxiety lest certain people\nshould suppose that I was unwilling to visit him again because I had\nformed a poor opinion of his natural gifts and character, and because,\nknowing as I did his manner of life, I disapproved of it.\n\nIt is right for me to speak the truth, and make no complaint if\nanyone, after hearing the facts, forms a poor opinion of my\nphilosophy, and thinks that the tyrant was in the right. Dionysios now\ninvited me for the third time, sending a trireme to ensure me\ncomfort on the voyage; he sent also Archedemos-one of those who had\nspent some time with Archytes, and of whom he supposed that I had a\nhigher opinion than of any of the Sicilian Greeks-and, with him, other\nmen of repute in Sicily. These all brought the same report, that\nDionysios had made progress in philosophy. He also sent a very long\nletter, knowing as he did my relations with Dion and Dion's\neagerness also that I should take ship and go to Syracuse. The\nletter was framed in its opening sentences to meet all these\nconditions, and the tenor of it was as follows: \"Dionysios to\nPlato,\" here followed the customary greeting and immediately after\nit he said, \"If in compliance with our request you come now, in the\nfirst place, Dion's affairs will be dealt with in whatever way you\nyourself desire; I know that you will desire what is reasonable, and I\nshall consent to it. But if not, none of Dion's affairs will have\nresults in accordance with your wishes, with regard either to Dion\nhimself or to other matters.\" This he said in these words; the rest it\nwould be tedious and inopportune to quote. Other letters arrived\nfrom Archytes and the Tarentines, praising the philosophical studies\nof Dionysios and saying that, if I did not now come, I should cause\na complete rupture in their friendship with Dionysios, which had\nbeen brought about by me and was of no small importance to their\npolitical interests.\n\nWhen this invitation came to me at that time in such terms, and\nthose who had come from Sicily and Italy were trying to drag me\nthither, while my friends at Athens were literally pushing me out with\ntheir urgent entreaties, it was the same old tale-that I must not\nbetray Dion and my Tarentine friends and supporters. Also I myself had\na lurking feeling that there was nothing surprising in the fact that a\nyoung man, quick to learn, hearing talk of the great truths of\nphilosophy, should feel a craving for the higher life. I thought\ntherefore that I must put the matter definitely to the test to see\nwhether his desire was genuine or the reverse, and on no account leave\nsuch an impulse unaided nor make myself responsible for such a deep\nand real disgrace, if the reports brought by anyone were really\ntrue. So blindfolding myself with this reflection, I set out, with\nmany fears and with no very favourable anticipations, as was natural\nenough. However, I went, and my action on this occasion at any rate\nwas really a case of \"the third to the Preserver,\" for I had the\ngood fortune to return safely; and for this I must, next to the God,\nthank Dionysios, because, though many wished to make an end of me,\nhe prevented them and paid some proper respect to my situation.\n\nOn my arrival, I thought that first I must put to the test the\nquestion whether Dionysios had really been kindled with the fire of\nphilosophy, or whether all the reports which had come to Athens were\nempty rumours. Now there is a way of putting such things to the test\nwhich is not to be despised and is well suited to monarchs, especially\nto those who have got their heads full of erroneous teaching, which\nimmediately my arrival I found to be very much the case with\nDionysios. One should show such men what philosophy is in all its\nextent; what their range of studies is by which it is approached,\nand how much labour it involves. For the man who has heard this, if he\nhas the true philosophic spirit and that godlike temperament which\nmakes him a kin to philosophy and worthy of it, thinks that he has\nbeen told of a marvellous road lying before him, that he must\nforthwith press on with all his strength, and that life is not worth\nliving if he does anything else. After this he uses to the full his\nown powers and those of his guide in the path, and relaxes not his\nefforts, till he has either reached the end of the whole course of\nstudy or gained such power that he is not incapable of directing his\nsteps without the aid of a guide. This is the spirit and these are the\nthoughts by which such a man guides his life, carrying out his work,\nwhatever his occupation may be, but throughout it all ever cleaving to\nphilosophy and to such rules of diet in his daily life as will give\nhim inward sobriety and therewith quickness in learning, a good\nmemory, and reasoning power; the kind of life which is opposed to this\nhe consistently hates. Those who have not the true philosophic temper,\nbut a mere surface colouring of opinions penetrating, like sunburn,\nonly skin deep, when they see how great the range of studies is, how\nmuch labour is involved in it, and how necessary to the pursuit it\nis to have an orderly regulation of the daily life, come to the\nconclusion that the thing is difficult and impossible for them, and\nare actually incapable of carrying out the course of study; while some\nof them persuade themselves that they have sufficiently studied the\nwhole matter and have no need of any further effort. This is the\nsure test and is the safest one to apply to those who live in luxury\nand are incapable of continuous effort; it ensures that such a man\nshall not throw the blame upon his teacher but on himself, because\nhe cannot bring to the pursuit all the qualities necessary to it. Thus\nit came about that I said to Dionysios what I did say on that\noccasion.\n\nI did not, however, give a complete exposition, nor did Dionysios\nask for one. For he professed to know many, and those the most\nimportant, points, and to have a sufficient hold of them through\ninstruction given by others. I hear also that he has since written\nabout what he heard from me, composing what professes to be his own\nhandbook, very different, so he says, from the doctrines which he\nheard from me; but of its contents I know nothing; I know indeed\nthat others have written on the same subjects; but who they are, is\nmore than they know themselves. Thus much at least, I can say about\nall writers, past or future, who say they know the things to which I\ndevote myself, whether by hearing the teaching of me or of others,\nor by their own discoveries-that according to my view it is not\npossible for them to have any real skill in the matter. There\nneither is nor ever will be a treatise of mine on the subject. For\nit does not admit of exposition like other branches of knowledge;\nbut after much converse about the matter itself and a life lived\ntogether, suddenly a light, as it were, is kindled in one soul by a\nflame that leaps to it from another, and thereafter sustains itself.\nYet this much I know-that if the things were written or put into\nwords, it would be done best by me, and that, if they were written\nbadly, I should be the person most pained. Again, if they had appeared\nto me to admit adequately of writing and exposition, what task in life\ncould I have performed nobler than this, to write what is of great\nservice to mankind and to bring the nature of things into the light\nfor all to see? But I do not think it a good thing for men that\nthere should be a disquisition, as it is called, on this\ntopic-except for some few, who are able with a little teaching to find\nit out for themselves. As for the rest, it would fill some of them\nquite illogically with a mistaken feeling of contempt, and others with\nlofty and vain-glorious expectations, as though they had learnt\nsomething high and mighty.\n\nOn this point I intend to speak a little more at length; for\nperhaps, when I have done so, things will be clearer with regard to my\npresent subject. There is an argument which holds good against the man\nventures to put anything whatever into writing on questions of this\nnature; it has often before been stated by me, and it seems suitable\nto the present occasion.\n\nFor everything that exists there are three instruments by which\nthe knowledge of it is necessarily imparted; fourth, there is the\nknowledge itself, and, as fifth, we must count the thing itself\nwhich is known and truly exists. The first is the name, the, second\nthe definition, the third. the image, and the fourth the knowledge. If\nyou wish to learn what I mean, take these in the case of one instance,\nand so understand them in the case of all. A circle is a thing\nspoken of, and its name is that very word which we have just\nuttered. The second thing belonging to it is its definition, made up\nnames and verbal forms. For that which has the name \"round,\"\n\"annular,\" or, \"circle,\" might be defined as that which has the\ndistance from its circumference to its centre everywhere equal. Third,\ncomes that which is drawn and rubbed out again, or turned on a lathe\nand broken up-none of which things can happen to the circle\nitself-to which the other things, mentioned have reference; for it\nis something of a different order from them. Fourth, comes\nknowledge, intelligence and right opinion about these things. Under\nthis one head we must group everything which has its existence, not in\nwords nor in bodily shapes, but in souls-from which it is dear that it\nis something different from the nature of the circle itself and from\nthe three things mentioned before. Of these things intelligence\ncomes closest in kinship and likeness to the fifth, and the others are\nfarther distant.\n\nThe same applies to straight as well as to circular form, to\ncolours, to the good, the, beautiful, the just, to all bodies\nwhether manufactured or coming into being in the course of nature,\nto fire, water, and all such things, to every living being, to\ncharacter in souls, and to all things done and suffered. For in the\ncase of all these, no one, if he has not some how or other got hold of\nthe four things first mentioned, can ever be completely a partaker\nof knowledge of the fifth. Further, on account of the weakness of\nlanguage, these (i.e., the four) attempt to show what each thing is\nlike, not less than what each thing is. For this reason no man of\nintelligence will venture to express his philosophical views in\nlanguage, especially not in language that is unchangeable, which is\ntrue of that which is set down in written characters.\n\nAgain you must learn the point which comes next. Every circle, of\nthose which are by the act of man drawn or even turned on a lathe,\nis full of that which is opposite to the fifth thing. For everywhere\nit has contact with the straight. But the circle itself, we say, has\nnothing in either smaller or greater, of that which is its opposite.\nWe say also that the name is not a thing of permanence for any of\nthem, and that nothing prevents the things now called round from being\ncalled straight, and the straight things round; for those who make\nchanges and call things by opposite names, nothing will be less\npermanent (than a name). Again with regard to the definition, if it is\nmade up of names and verbal forms, the same remark holds that there is\nno sufficiently durable permanence in it. And there is no end to the\ninstances of the ambiguity from which each of the four suffers; but\nthe greatest of them is that which we mentioned a little earlier,\nthat, whereas there are two things, that which has real being, and\nthat which is only a quality, when the soul is seeking to know, not\nthe quality, but the essence, each of the four, presenting to the soul\nby word and in act that which it is not seeking (i.e., the quality), a\nthing open to refutation by the senses, being merely the thing\npresented to the soul in each particular case whether by statement\nor the act of showing, fills, one may say, every man with puzzlement\nand perplexity.\n\nNow in subjects in which, by reason of our defective education, we\nhave not been accustomed even to search for the truth, but are\nsatisfied with whatever images are presented to us, we are not held up\nto ridicule by one another, the questioned by questioners, who can\npull to pieces and criticise the four things. But in subjects where we\ntry to compel a man to give a clear answer about the fifth, any one of\nthose who are capable of overthrowing an antagonist gets the better of\nus, and makes the man, who gives an exposition in speech or writing or\nin replies to questions, appear to most of his hearers to know nothing\nof the things on which he is attempting to write or speak; for they\nare sometimes not aware that it is not the mind of the writer or\nspeaker which is proved to be at fault, but the defective nature of\neach of the four instruments. The process however of dealing with\nall of these, as the mind moves up and down to each in turn, does\nafter much effort give birth in a well-constituted mind to knowledge\nof that which is well constituted. But if a man is ill-constituted\nby nature (as the state of the soul is naturally in the majority\nboth in its capacity for learning and in what is called moral\ncharacter)-or it may have become so by deterioration-not even\nLynceus could endow such men with the power of sight.\n\nIn one word, the man who has no natural kinship with this matter\ncannot be made akin to it by quickness of learning or memory; for it\ncannot be engendered at all in natures which are foreign to it.\nTherefore, if men are not by nature kinship allied to justice and\nall other things that are honourable, though they may be good at\nlearning and remembering other knowledge of various kinds-or if they\nhave the kinship but are slow learners and have no memory-none of\nall these will ever learn to the full the truth about virtue and vice.\nFor both must be learnt together; and together also must be learnt, by\ncomplete and long continued study, as I said at the beginning, the\ntrue and the false about all that has real being. After much effort,\nas names, definitions, sights, and other data of sense, are brought\ninto contact and friction one with another, in the course of\nscrutiny and kindly testing by men who proceed by question and\nanswer without ill will, with a sudden flash there shines forth\nunderstanding about every problem, and an intelligence whose efforts\nreach the furthest limits of human powers. Therefore every man of\nworth, when dealing with matters of worth, will be far from exposing\nthem to ill feeling and misunderstanding among men by committing\nthem to writing. In one word, then, it may be known from this that, if\none sees written treatises composed by anyone, either the laws of a\nlawgiver, or in any other form whatever, these are not for that man\nthe things of most worth, if he is a man of worth, but that his\ntreasures are laid up in the fairest spot that he possesses. But if\nthese things were worked at by him as things of real worth, and\ncommitted to writing, then surely, not gods, but men \"have\nthemselves bereft him of his wits.\"\n\nAnyone who has followed this discourse and digression will know well\nthat, if Dionysios or anyone else, great or small, has written a\ntreatise on the highest matters and the first principles of things, he\nhas, so I say, neither heard nor learnt any sound teaching about the\nsubject of his treatise; otherwise, he would have had the same\nreverence for it, which I have, and would have shrunk from putting\nit forth into a world of discord and uncomeliness. For he wrote it,\nnot as an aid to memory-since there is no risk of forgetting it, if\na man's soul has once laid hold of it; for it is expressed in the\nshortest of statements-but if he wrote it at all, it was from a mean\ncraving for honour, either putting it forth as his own invention, or\nto figure as a man possessed of culture, of which he was not worthy,\nif his heart was set on the credit of possessing it. If then Dionysios\ngained this culture from the one lesson which he had from me, we may\nperhaps grant him the possession of it, though how he acquired\nit-God wot, as the Theban says; for I gave him the teaching, which I\nhave described, on that one occasion and never again.\n\nThe next point which requires to be made clear to anyone who\nwishes to discover how things really happened, is the reason why it\ncame about that I did not continue my teaching in a second and third\nlesson and yet oftener. Does Dionysios, after a single lesson, believe\nhimself to know the matter, and has he an adequate knowledge of it,\neither as having discovered it for himself or learnt it before from\nothers, or does he believe my teaching to be worthless, or, thirdly,\nto be beyond his range and too great for him, and himself to be really\nunable to live as one who gives his mind to wisdom and virtue? For\nif he thinks it worthless, he will have to contend with many who say\nthe opposite, and who would be held in far higher repute as judges\nthan Dionysios, if on the other hand, he thinks he has discovered or\nlearnt the things and that they are worth having as part of a\nliberal education, how could he, unless he is an extraordinary person,\nhave so recklessly dishonoured the master who has led the way in these\nsubjects? How he dishonoured him, I will now state.\n\nUp to this time he had allowed Dion to remain in possession of his\nproperty and to receive the income from it. But not long after the\nforegoing events, as if he had entirely forgotten his letter to that\neffect, he no longer allowed Dion's trustees to send him remittances\nto the Peloponnese, on the pretence that the owner of the property was\nnot Dion but Dion's son, his own nephew, of whom he himself was\nlegally the trustee. These were the actual facts which occurred up\nto the point which we have reached. They had opened my eyes as to\nthe value of Dionysios' desire for philosophy, and I had every right\nto complain, whether I wished to do so or not. Now by this time it was\nsummer and the season for sea voyages; therefore I decided that I must\nnot be vexed with Dionysios rather than with myself and those who\nhad forced me to come for the third time into the strait of Scylla,\n\nthat once again I might\n\nTo fell Charybdis measure back my course,\n\nbut must tell Dionysios that it was impossible for me to remain\nafter this outrage had been put upon Dion. He tried to soothe me and\nbegged me to remain, not thinking it desirable for himself that I\nshould arrive post haste in person as the bearer of such tidings. When\nhis entreaties produced no effect, he promised that he himself would\nprovide me with transport. For my intention was to embark on one of\nthe trading ships and sail away, being indignant and thinking it my\nduty to face all dangers, in case I was prevented from going-since\nplainly and obviously I was doing no wrong, but was the party wronged.\n\nSeeing me not at all inclined to stay, he devised the following\nscheme to make me stay during that sading season. On the next day he\ncame to me and made a plausible proposal: \"Let us put an end,\" he\nsaid, \"to these constant quarrels between you and me about Dion and\nhis affairs. For your sake I will do this for Dion. I require him to\ntake his own property and reside in the Peloponnese, not as an\nexile, but on the understanding that it is open for him to migrate\nhere, when this step has the joint approval of himself, me, and you\nhis friends; and this shall be open to him on the understanding that\nhe does not plot against me. You and your friends and Dion's friends\nhere must be sureties for him in this, and he must give you\nsecurity. Let the funds which he receives be deposited in the\nPeloponnese and at Athens, with persons approved by you, and let\nDion enjoy the income from them but have no power to take them out\nof deposit without the approval of you and your friends. For I have no\ngreat confidence in him, that, if he has this property at his\ndisposal, he will act justly towards me, for it will be no small\namount; but I have more confidence in you and your friends. See if\nthis satisfies you; and on these conditions remain for the present\nyear, and at the next season you shall depart taking the property with\nyou. I am quite sure that Dion will be grateful to you, if you\naccomplish so much on his behalf.\"\n\nWhen I heard this proposal I was vexed, but after reflection said\nI would let him know my view of it on the following day. We agreed\nto that effect for the moment, and afterwards when I was by myself I\npondered the matter in much distress. The first reflection that came\nup, leading the way in my self-communing, was this: \"Come suppose that\nDionysios intends to do none of the things which he has mentioned, but\nthat, after my departure, he writes a plausible letter to Dion, and\norders several of his creatures to write to the same effect, telling\nhim of the proposal which he has now made to me, making out that he\nwas willing to do what he proposed, but that I refused and\ncompletely neglected Dion's interests. Further, suppose that he is not\nwilling to allow my departure, and without giving personal orders to\nany of the merchants, makes it clear, as he easily can, to all that he\nnot wish me to sail, will anyone consent to take me as a passenger,\nwhen I leave the house: of Dionysios?\"\n\nFor in addition to my other troubles, I was lodging at that time\nin the garden which surround his house, from which even the gatekeeper\nwould have refused to let me go, unless an order had been sent to\nhim from Dionysios. \"Suppose however that I wait for the year, I shall\nbe able to write word of these things to Dion, stating the position in\nwhich I am, and the steps which I am trying to take. And if\nDionysios does any of the things which he says, I shall have\naccomplished something that is not altogether to be sneered at; for\nDion's property is, at a fair estimate, perhaps not less than a\nhundred talents. If however the prospect which I see looming in the\nfuture takes the course which may reasonably be expected, I know not\nwhat I shall do with myself. Still it is perhaps necessary to go on\nworking for a year, and to attempt to prove by actual fact the\nmachinations of Dionysios.\"\n\nHaving come to this decision, on the following day I said to\nDionysios, \"I have decided to remain. But,\" I continued, \"I must ask\nthat you will not regard me as empowered to act for Dion, but will\nalong with me write a letter to him, stating what has now been\ndecided, and enquire whether this course satisfies him. If it does\nnot, and if he has other wishes and demands, he must write particulars\nof them as soon as possible, and you must not as yet take any hasty\nstep with regard to his interests.\"\n\nThis was what was said and this was the agreement which was made,\nalmost in these words. Well, after this the trading-ships took their\ndeparture, and it was no longer possible for me to take mine, when\nDionysios, if you please, addressed me with the remark that half the\nproperty must be regarded as belonging to Dion and half to his son.\nTherefore, he said, he would sell it, and when it was sold would\ngive half to me to take away, and would leave half on the spot for the\nson. This course, he said, was the most just. This proposal was a blow\nto me, and I thought it absurd to argue any longer with him;\nhowever, I said that we must wait for Dion's letter, and then once\nmore write to tell him of this new proposal. His next step was the\nbrilliant one of selling the whole of Dion's property, using his own\ndiscretion with regard to the manner and terms of the sale and of\nthe purchasers. He spoke not a word to me about the matter from\nbeginning to end, and I followed his example and never talked to him\nagain about Dion's affairs; for I did not think that I could do any\ngood by doing so. This is the history so far of my efforts to come\nto the rescue of philosophy and of my friends.\n\nAfter this Dionysios and I went on with our daily life, I with my\neyes turned abroad like a bird yearning to fly from its perch, and\nhe always devising some new way of scaring me back and of keeping a\ntight hold on Dion's property. However, we gave out to all Sicily that\nwe were friends. Dionysios, now deserting the policy of his father,\nattempted to lower the pay of the older members of his body guard. The\nsoldiers were furious, and, assembling in great numbers, declared that\nthey would not submit. He attempted to use force to them, shutting the\ngates of the acropolis; but they charged straight for the walls,\nyelling out an unintelligible and ferocious war cry. Dionysios took\nfright and conceded all their demands and more to the peltasts then\nassembled.\n\nA rumour soon spread that Heracleides had been the cause of all\nthe trouble. Hearing this, Heracleides kept out of the way.\nDionysios was trying to get hold of him, and being unable to do so,\nsent for Theodotes to come to him in his garden. It happened that I\nwas walking in the garden at the same time. I neither know nor did I\nhear the rest of what passed between them, but what Theodotes said\nto Dionysios in my presence I know and remember. \"Plato,\" he said,\n\"I am trying to convince our friend Dionysios that, if I am able to\nbring Heracleides before us to defend himself on the charges which\nhave been made against him, and if he decides that Heracleides must no\nlonger live in Sicily, he should be allowed (this is my point) to take\nhis son and wife and sail to the Peloponnese and reside there,\ntaking no action there against Dionysios and enjoying the income of\nhis property. I have already sent for him and will send for him again;\nand if he comes in obedience either to my former message or to this\none-well and good. But I beg and entreat Dionysios that, if anyone\nfinds Heracleides either in the country or here, no harm shall come to\nhim, but that he may retire from the country till Dionysios comes to\nsome other decision. Do you agree to this?\" he added, addressing\nDionysios. \"I agree,\" he replied, \"that even if he is found at your\nhouse, no harm shall be done to him beyond what has now been said.\"\n\nOn the following day Eurybios and Theodotes came to me in the\nevening, both greatly disturbed. Theodotes said, \"Plato, you were\npresent yesterday during the promises made by Dionysios to me and to\nyou about Heracleides?\" \"Certainly,\" I replied. \"Well,\" he\ncontinued, \"at this moment peltasts are scouring the country seeking\nto arrest Heracleides; and he must be somewhere in this neighbourhood.\nFor Heaven's sake come with us to Dionysios.\" So we went and stood\nin the presence of Dionysios; and those two stood shedding silent\ntears, while I said: \"These men are afraid that you may take strong\nmeasures with regard to Heracleides contrary to what was agreed\nyesterday. For it seems that he has returned and has been seen\nsomewhere about here.\" On hearing this he blazed up and turned all\ncolours, as a man would in a rage. Theodotes, falling before him in\ntears, took his hand and entreated him to do nothing of the sort.\nBut I broke in and tried to encourage him, saying: \"Be of good\ncheer, Theodotes; Dionysios will not have the heart to take any\nfresh step contrary to his promises of yesterday.\" Fixing his eye on\nme, and assuming his most autocratic air he said, \"To you I promised\nnothing small or great.\" \"By the gods,\" I said, \"you did promise\nthat forbearance for which our friend here now appeals.\" With these\nwords I turned away and went out. After this he continued the hunt for\nHeracleides, and Theodotes, sending messages, urged Heracleides to\ntake flight. Dionysios sent out Teisias and some peltasts with\norders to pursue him. But Heracleides, as it was said, was just in\ntime, by a small fraction of a day, in making his escape into\nCarthaginian territory.\n\nAfter this Dionysios thought that his long cherished scheme not to\nrestore Dion's property would give him a plausible excuse for\nhostility towards me; and first of all he sent me out of the\nacropolis, finding a pretext that the women were obliged to hold a\nsacrificial service for ten days in the garden in which I had my\nlodging. He therefore ordered me to stay outside in the house of\nArchedemos during this period. While I was there, Theodotes sent for\nme and made a great outpouring of indignation at these occurrences,\nthrowing the blame on Dionysios. Hearing that I had been to see\nTheodotes he regarded this, as another excuse, sister to the\nprevious one, for quarrelling with me. Sending a messenger he enquired\nif I had really been conferring with Theodotes on his invitation\n\"Certainly,\" I replied, \"Well,\" continued the messenger, \"he ordered\nme to tell you that you are not acting at all well in preferring\nalways Dion and Dion's friends to him.\" And he did not send for me\nto return to his house, as though it were now clear that Theodotes and\nHeracleides were my friends, and he my enemy. He also thought that I\nhad no kind feelings towards him because the property of Dion was\nnow entirely done for.\n\nAfter this I resided outside the acropolis among the mercenaries.\nVarious people then came to me, among them those of the ships' crews\nwho came from Athens, my own fellow citizens, and reported that I\nwas evil spoken of among the peltasts, and that some of them were\nthreatening to make an end of me, if they could ket hold of me\nAccordingly I devised the following plan for my safety.\n\nI sent to Archytes and my other friends in Taras, telling them the\nplight I was in. Finding some excuse for an embassy from their city,\nthey sent a thirty-oared galley with Lamiscos, one of themselves,\nwho came and entreated Dionysios about me, saying that I wanted to go,\nand that he should on no account stand in my way. He consented and\nallowed me to go, giving me money for the journey. But for Dion's\nproperty I made no further request, nor was any of it restored.\n\nI made my way to the Peloponnese to Olympia, where I found Dion a\nspectator at the Games, and told him what had occurred. Calling Zeus\nto be his witness, he at once urged me with my relatives and friends\nto make preparations for taking vengeance on Dionysios-our ground\nfor action being the breach of faith to a guest-so he put it and\nregarded it, while his own was his unjust expulsion and banishment.\nHearing this, I told him that he might call my friends to his aid,\nif they wished to go; \"But for myself,\" I continued, \"you and others\nin a way forced me to be the sharer of Dionysios' table and hearth and\nhis associate in the acts of religion. He probably believed the\ncurrent slanders, that I was plotting with you against him and his\ndespotic rule; yet feelings of scruple prevailed with him, and he\nspared my life. Again, I am hardly of the age for being comrade in\narms to anyone; also I stand as a neutral between you, if ever you\ndesire friendship and wish to benefit one another; so long as you\naim at injuring one another, call others to your aid.\" This I said,\nbecause I was disgusted with my misguided journeyings to Sicily and my\nill-fortune there. But they disobeyed me and would not listen to my\nattempts at reconciliation, and so brought on their own heads all\nthe evils which have since taken place. For if Dionysios had\nrestored to Dion his property or been reconciled with him on any\nterms, none of these things would have happened, so far as human\nforesight can foretell. Dion would have easily been kept in check by\nmy wishes and influence. But now, rushing upon one another, they\nhave caused universal disaster.\n\nDion's aspiration however was the same that I should say my own or\nthat of any other right-minded man ought to be. With regard to his own\npower, his friends and his country the ideal of such a man would be to\nwin the greatest power and honour by rendering the greatest\nservices. And this end is not attained if a man gets riches for\nhimself, his supporters and his country, by forming plots and\ngetting together conspirators, being all the while a poor creature,\nnot master of himself, overcome by the cowardice which fears to\nfight against pleasures; nor is it attained if he goes on to kill\nthe men of substance, whom he speaks of as the enemy, and to plunder\ntheir possessions, and invites his confederates and supporters to do\nthe same, with the object that no one shall say that it is his\nfault, if he complains of being poor. The same is true if anyone\nrenders services of this kind to the State and receives honours from\nher for distributing by decrees the property of the few among the\nmany-or if, being in charge the affairs of a great State which rules\nover many small ones, he unjustly appropriates to his own State the\npossessions of the small ones. For neither a Dion nor any other man\nwill, with his eyes open, make his way by steps like these to a\npower which will be fraught with destruction to himself and his\ndescendants for all time; but he will advance towards constitutional\ngovernment and the framing of the justest and best laws, reaching\nthese ends without executions and murders even on the smallest scale.\n\nThis course Dion actually followed, thinking it preferable to suffer\niniquitous deeds rather than to do them; but, while taking precautions\nagainst them, he nevertheless, when he had reached the climax of\nvictory over his enemies, took a false step and fell, a catastrophe\nnot at all surprising. For a man of piety, temperance and wisdom, when\ndealing with the impious, would not be entirely blind to the character\nof such men, but it would perhaps not be surprising if he suffered the\ncatastrophe that might befall a good ship's captain, who would not\nbe entirely unaware of the approach of a storm, but might be unaware\nof its extraordinary and startling violence, and might therefore be\noverwhelmed by its force. The same thing caused Dion's downfall. For\nhe was not unaware that his assailants were thoroughly bad men, but he\nwas unaware how high a pitch of infatuation and of general\nwickedness and greed they had reached. This was the cause of his\ndownfall, which has involved Sicily in countless sorrows.\n\nAs to the steps which should be taken after the events which I\nhave now related, my advice has been given pretty fully and may be\nregarded as finished; and if you ask my reasons for recounting the\nstory of my second journey to Sicily, it seemed to me essential that\nan account of it must be given because of the strange and\nparadoxical character of the incidents. If in this present account\nof them they appear to anyone more intelligible, and seem to anyone to\nshow sufficient grounds in view of the circumstances, the present\nstatement is adequate and not too lengthy.\n\n-THE END-",
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