at their disputes, and making a considerable figure amongst them through his excellent genius and the soidity of his judgment; visiting the cities of learned Greece, to collect in them, if I may be allowed the expression, the flower of the man of genius, and to consult the ablest politicians, leaving every where behind him the marks of his liberality and magnificence, equally beloved and respected by all that knew him, and receiving extraordinary honours wherever he passed, which were paid still more to his merit than his birth. It was from so pleasing a life as this that he tore himself to assist his country, which implored his protection, and to deliver it from the yoke of tyranny, under which it had long groaned.

A bolder attempt perhaps was never formed, nor at the same time ever met with greater success. He set out with no more than eight hundred men, and two merchant ships, to engage with so formidable а power as that of Dionysius. "Who would have thought, [r] says an historian, that a man with two merchant ships would have been able to dethrone a prince, who had four hundred ships of war, an hundred thousand foot, ten thousand horse, provision of arms and corn in proportion, and as much treasure as was requisite to maintain and pay so numerous an army; who besides this was master of one of the greatest cities in Greece, with ports, ar"senals, and impregnable forts, and supported and fortified by a great number of very powerful allies? The cause of Dion's great success was his magnanimity and courage, and the affection borne him by those whose liberty he was to procure.

But what I find most beautiful in the life of Dion, most worthy of admiration, and, if I may be allowed

and was upon the point of restoring them to their full liberty. And as a reward for so many services, they shamefully expel him their city, in company of a small handful of soldiers, whose fidelity they could not corrupt; they load him with injuries, and add the most cruel abuses to their treachery. And though he wanted no more to revenge himself of those ungrateful rebels, than to give the word, and deliver them up to the indignation of his soldiers; having a like command over them as himself, he checks their impetuosity, and, without disarming them, lays a restraint upon their just resentment, not allowing them, in the very heat and fire of battle, to do more than intimidate his enemies without killing them: because he considered them still as his fellow-citizens and brethren.

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-He said upon another occasion, "that officers usu"ally passed their days in the exercise of arms, and "in learning the art of war; that for his part he had spent a long time at Athens in the academy, to "learn there how to conquer wrath, envy and revenge; that to be civil and obliging to one's friends "and men of probity, was no mark of having conquered our passions; but to behave with humanity "towards those who have done us wrong, and to. "be always ready to pardon them. It is true, he "said, according to human laws, it is admitted to be

more excusable to revenge ourselves of such as have "injured us, than to be the first in doing wrong to "others; but if we consult nature, we shall find that "both these faults have but one root, and that there " is as much weakness in revenging an injury, as in "first committing it."

All the wrongs and ingratitude of his country were not capable of making any abatements in his zeal.

..

berty, and expelled the tyrants. But he had not the pleasure of enjoying the fruit of his labours. A traitor formed a conspiracy against him, and assassinated him in his own house. His death involved Syracuse in new misfortunes.

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I think we cannot charge Dion with any more than one fault; he had something rough and severe in his temper, which rendered him unsociable and difficult of access, and kept men of the greatest probity, and his best friends, too much at a distance. Plato had

often put him in mind of this failing. He had even endeavoured to correct it, by bringing him particularly. acquainted with a philosopher of a cheerful and facetious disposition, and very capable of inspiring him with kind and obliging sentiments. He afterwards reminded him of it by a letter, wherein he says, [s]

Consider, I beg of you, that you are accused of "wanting good-nature and affability; and always re"member, that the most certain means to make af"fairs succeed, is to render one's self agreeable to "those with whom we have to treat. [t] Haughtiness banishes friends and companions, and reduces a man to live in solitude." [u] Notwithstanding he

[3] Ενθυμοῦ δὲ καὶ ὅτι δοκεῖς τισὶν ἐνδειτέρως τοῦ προσήκοντα νερα πευτικὸς εἶναι μὴ οὖν λανθανέτω σὲ ὅτι διὰ τοῦ ἀρέσκειν τοῖς ἀνθρώποις, καὶ τὸ πράττειν ἔσιν.

[1] HS aibádira ignuía Eivoin. This thought of Plato's is extremely beautiful, but not so obvious at first sight. M. Dacier has translated it thus: Haughtiness is always the companion of solitude; which carries with it no idea, or rather presents one directly opposite to reality. For it is false, that haughtiness is always formed in solitude: A single man with nobody about him, is little susceptible of it, and has no opportunity of shewing it. This vice requires witnesses and spectators. This therefore is not Plato's meaning; who intends to say, that haughtiness drives away the rest of mankind that it removes those

from us with whom we ought to live in the greatest union; whereas affability gains great men abun dance of followers, and makes them live in a manner amidst a multitude of persons, even such as are strangers and unknown, who gladly approach them, and take pains to attach themselves to them; whereas haughtiness makes a desert around them, puts all to flight, and reduces them to as great a degree of solitude, as though they were in a wilderness, and by that means deprives them of the assistance of the persons they stand in need of for the success of their af fairs. Ἡ δ' αὐθάδεια, ἐρημίᾳ ξύνοικα Haughtiness reduces a man to solitude.

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[1] ̓Αλλὰ φύσει τε φαίνεται πρὸς τὸ πιθανὸν δυσκεράτῳ κεχρημένα, αν τισπᾶντε τις Συρακεσίες ἄγαν ἀνει μένες καὶ διατεθρυμμένες προσθυμες peros, Plut. in Vit. Dion.

and reformning the Syracusians, who were spoiled and corrupted by the adulation and complacency of their orators, he thought himself obliged to a more resolute and manly behaviour.

Dion was mistaken in the most essential point of governing. From the throne to the lowest office in the state, whoever is to command and direct others, ought principally to study the [r] art of gaining the affections of mankind, of moulding and turning them at pleasure, and conciliating them to our own views ; which can never be effected by domineering over them, by haughtily commanding them, or barely pointing out their duty to them with a rigid inflexibility. There is a steadiness and resolution, or rather an obstinate severity, even in the pursuit of virtue, and the exercise of all employments, which is apt to degenerate into vice, when carried too far. I own we are never allowed to bend the rule; but it is always commendable, and often necessary, to soften and make it more tractable; which is principally done by an obliging and insinuating behaviour; by not rigorously insisting upon the performance of the most minute circumstance of duty, by overlooking such little faults as scarce deserve notice; and remonstrating mildly upon those that are more considerable; in a word, by endeavouring by all possible means to gain the love of others, and to render virtue and duty agreeable.

II. TIMOLEON.

Timoleon, who was a native of Corinth, completed at Syracuse what Dion had so happily begun; and signalized himself in that expedition by amazing ex

[x] This is what an acient poet gina rerum oratio. Cic. 1. 1. de

alled Aexanima atava omnium vo

Divin

ploits of valour and wisdom, which made him equal inglory to the greatest men of his ages After he had obliged Dionysius to quit Sicily, the recalled all the citizens, whom the tyrants had banished into different countbiest; he got together sixty thousand of then to relpeoples the deserted city the divided the lands among themy gave them laws, and established a form of bivil government in conjunction with coinmission ers from Corinth 3ohe cleared all Sicily of tyrants, with which it had been long infested, restured peace and security in all places, bandssupplied the cities ruined by the war, with all things necessary for re-instating themselves.. to my dob aid to yal

After such glorious actions, which had gamed him unlimited credit, he voluntarily renounced his authority, and passed the rest of his life at Syracuse as a pri vate man, enjoying the grateful satisfaction of seeing so many cities, and such multitudes of people indebted for their tranquillity and happiness to him. But he' was ever respected, and consulted as the common oracle of Sicilyls There was no treaty of peace, no few law, no division of dands, no regulation of policy made, without Timoleon's being concerned in it, and giving the last hand to it lu ei Jedw bos 100

In his old age he had the trial of a very severe affliction, which he bore with an astonishing patience I mean the loss of his sight. This accident was so far from diminishing the people's consideration and Pespect that they had for him, that it only server to augment them. 19The Syracusians were not satisfied with-paying him frequent visits, but carried all strangers that travelled amongst them, to his house either in town or country, to show them their benet factor and deliverer. If any matter of moment was to be debated in the public assembly they called him in to their assistance and as for him, he came in a cha riat ot drawn by two horses, through the forum into the theatre, and entered the assembly in the same chariot, amidst the shouts and joyful acclamations of the whol people. When he had given his opinion, which was