It is by no means certain, indeed, that such schemes could have been successfully realized, even with full sincerity on the part of Dionysius, and the energy of Dion besides. With all governments, to do evil is easy—to effect beneficial change, difficult; and with a Grecian despot, this was true in a peculiar manner. Those great mercenary forces and other instruments, which had been strong as adamant for the oppressive rule of the elder Dionysius would have been found hardly manageable, perhaps even obstructive, if his son had tried to employ them for more liberal purposes. But still the experiment would have been tried, with a fair chance of success—if only Plato, during his short-lived spiritual authority at Syracuse, had measured more accurately the practical influence which a philosopher might reasonably hope to exercise over Dionysius. I make these remarks upon him with sincere regret; but I am much mistaken if he did not afterwards hear them in more poignant language from the banished Dion, upon whom the consequences of the mistake mainly fell.
Speedily did the atmosphere at Syracuse become overclouded. The conservative party—friends of the old despotism, with the veteran Philistus at their head—played their game far better than that of the reformers was played by Plato, or by Dion since the arrival of Plato. Philistus saw that Dion, as the man of strong patriotic impulses and of energetic execution, was the real enemy to be aimed at. He left no effort untried to calumniate Dion, and to set Dionysius against him. Whispers and misrepresentations from a thousand different quarters beset the ear of Dionysius, alarming him with the idea that Dion was usurping to himself the real authority in Syracuse, with the view of ultimately handing it over to the children of Aristomachê, and of reigning in their name. Plato had been brought thither (it was said) as an agent in the conspiracy, for the purpose of winning over Dionysius into idle speculations, enervating his active vigor, and ultimately setting him aside; in order that all serious political agency might fall into the hands of Dion.[155] These hostile intrigues were no secret to Plato himself, who, even shortly after his arrival, began to see evidence of their poisonous activity. He tried sincerely to counterwork them;[156] but unfortunately the language which he himself addressed to Dionysius was exactly such as to give them the best chance of success. When Dionysius recounted to Philistus or other courtiers, how Plato and Dion had humiliated him in his own eyes, and told him that he was unworthy to govern until he had undergone a thorough purification—he would be exhorted to resent it as presumption and insult; and would be assured that it could only arise from a design to dispossess him of his authority, in favor of Dion, or perhaps of the children of Aristomachê with Dion as regent.
It must not be forgotten that there was a real foundation for jealousy on the part of Dionysius towards Dion; who was not merely superior to him in age, in dignity, and in ability, but also personally haughty in his bearing, and rigid in his habits, while Dionysius relished conviviality and enjoyments. At first, this jealousy was prevented from breaking out—partly by the consciousness of Dionysius that he needed some one to lean upon—partly by what seems to have been great self-command on the part of Dion, and great care to carry with him the real mind and good will of Dionysius. Even from the beginning, the enemies of Dion were doubtless not sparing in their calumnies, to alienate Dionysius from him; and the wonder only is, how, in spite of such intrigues and in spite of the natural causes of jealousy, Dion could have implanted his political aspirations, and maintained his friendly influence over Dionysius until the arrival of Plato. After that event, the natural causes of antipathy tended to manifest themselves more and more powerfully, while the counteracting circumstances all disappeared.
Three important months thus passed away, during which those precious public inclinations, which Plato found instilled by Dion into the bosom of Dionysius, and which he might have fanned into life and action—to liberalize the government of Syracuse, and to restore the other free Grecian cities—disappeared never to return. In place of them, Dionysius imbibed an antipathy, more and more rancorous, against the friend and relative with whom these sentiments had originated. The charges against Dion, of conspiracy and dangerous designs, circulated by Philistus and his cabal, became more audacious than ever. At length in the fourth month, Dionysius resolved to get rid of him.
The proceedings of Dion being watched, a letter was detected which he had written to the Carthaginian commanders in Sicily (with whom the war still subsisted, though seemingly not in great activity), inviting them, if they sent any proposition for peace to Syracuse, to send it through him, as he would take care that it should be properly discussed. I have already stated, that even in the reign of the elder Dionysius, Dion had been the person to whom the negotiations with Carthage were habitually intrusted. Such a letter from him, as far as we make out from the general description, implied nothing like a treasonable purpose. But Dionysius, after taking counsel with Philistus, resolved to make use of it as a final pretext. Inviting Dion into the acropolis, under color of seeking to heal their growing differences,—and beginning to enter into an amicable conversation,—he conducted him unsuspectingly down to the adjacent harbor, where lay moored, close in shore, a boat with the rowers aboard, ready for starting. Dionysius then produced the intercepted letter, handed it to Dion, and accused him to his face of treason. The latter protested against the imputation, and eagerly sought to reply. But Dionysius stopped him from proceeding, insisted on his going aboard the boat, and ordered the rowers to carry him off forthwith to Italy.[157]
This abrupt and ignominious expulsion, of so great a person as Dion, caused as much consternation among his numerous friends, as triumph to Philistus and the partisans of the despotism. All consummation of the liberal projects conceived by Dion was now out of the question; not less from the incompetency of Dionysius to execute them alone, than from his indisposition to any such attempt. Aristomachê the sister, and Aretê the wife, of Dion (the latter half-sister of Dionysius himself), gave vent to their sorrow and indignation; while the political associates of Dion, and Plato beyond all others, trembled for their own personal safety. Among the mercenary soldiers, the name of Plato was particularly odious. Many persons instigated Dionysius to kill him, and rumors even gained footing that he had been killed, as the author of the whole confusion.[158] But the despot, having sent away the person whom he most hated and feared, was not disposed to do harm to any one else. While he calmed the anxieties of Aretê by affirming that the departure of her husband was not to be regarded as an exile, but only as a temporary separation, to allow time for abating the animosity which prevailed—he at the same time ordered two triremes to be fitted out, for sending to Dion his slaves and valuable property, and everything necessary to personal dignity as well as to his comfort. Towards Plato—who was naturally agitated in the extreme, thinking only of the readiest means to escape from so dangerous a situation—his manifestations were yet more remarkable. He soothed the philosopher’s apprehensions—entreated him to remain, in a manner gentle indeed but admitting no denial—and conveyed him at once into his own residence the acropolis, under color of doing him honor. From hence there was no possibility of escaping, and Plato remained there for some time. Dionysius treated him well, communicated with him freely and intimately, and proclaimed everywhere that they were on the best terms of friendship. What is yet more curious—he displayed the greatest anxiety to obtain the esteem and approbation of the sage, and to occupy a place in his mind higher than that accorded to Dion; shrinking nevertheless from philosophy, or the Platonic treatment and training, under the impression that there was a purpose to ensnare and paralyze him, under the auspices of Dion.[159] This is a strange account, given by Plato himself; but it reads like a real picture of a vain and weak prince, admiring the philosopher—coquetting with him, as it were—and anxious to captivate his approbation, so far as it could be done without submitting to the genuine Platonic discipline.
During this long and irksome detention, which probably made him fully sensible of the comparative comforts of Athenian liberty, Plato obtained from Dionysius one practical benefit. He prevailed upon him to establish friendly and hospitable relations with Archytas and the Tarentines, which to these latter was a real increase of security and convenience.[160] But in the point which he strove most earnestly to accomplish, he failed. Dionysius resisted all entreaties for the recall of Dion. Finding himself at length occupied with a war (whether the war with Carthage previously mentioned, or some other, we do not know), he consented to let Plato depart; agreeing to send for him again as soon as peace and leisure should return, and promising to recall Dion at the same time; upon which covenant, Plato, on his side, agreed to come back. After a certain interval, peace arrived, and Dionysius re-invited Plato; yet without recalling Dion—whom he required still to wait another year. But Plato, appealing to the terms of the covenant, refused to go without Dion. To himself personally, in spite of the celebrity which his known influence with Dionysius tended to confer, the voyage was nothing less than repugnant, for he had had sufficient experience of Syracuse and its despotism. Nor would he even listen to the request of Dion himself; who, partly in the view of promoting his own future restoration, earnestly exhorted him to go. Dionysius besieged Plato with solicitations to come,[161] promising that all which he might insist upon in favor of Dion should be granted, and putting in motion a second time Archytas and the Tarentines to prevail upon him. These men, through their companion and friend Archedemus, who came to Athens in a Syracusan trireme, assured Plato that Dionysius was now ardent in the study of philosophy, and had even made considerable progress in it. By their earnest entreaties, coupled with those of Dion, Plato was at length induced to go to Syracuse. He was received, as before, with signal tokens of honor. He was complimented with the privilege, enjoyed by no one else, of approaching the despot without having his person searched; and was affectionately welcomed by the female relatives of Dion. Yet this visit, prolonged much beyond what he himself wished, proved nothing but a second splendid captivity, as the companion of Dionysius in the acropolis at Ortygia.[162]
Dionysius the philosopher obtained abundance of flatterers—as his father Dionysius the poet had obtained before him—and was even emboldened to proclaim himself as the son of Apollo.[163] It is possible that even an impuissant embrace of philosophy, on the part of so great a potentate, may have tended to exalt the reputation of philosophers in the contemporary world. Otherwise the dabblings of Dionysius would have merited no attention; though he seems to have been really a man of some literary talent[164]—retaining to the end a sincere admiration of Plato, and jealously pettish because he could not prevail upon Plato to admire him. But the second visit of Plato to him at Syracuse—very different from his first—presented no chance of benefit to the people of Syracuse, and only deserves notice as it bore upon the destiny of Dion. Here, unfortunately Plato could accomplish nothing; though his zeal on behalf of his friend was unwearied. Dionysius broke all his promises of kind dealing, became more rancorous in his hatred, impatient of the respect which Dion enjoyed even as an exile, and fearful of the revenge which he might one day be able to exact.
When expelled from Syracuse, Dion had gone to Peloponnesus and Athens, where he had continued for some years to receive regular remittances of his property. But at length, even while Plato was residing at Syracuse, Dionysius thought fit to withhold one half of the property, on pretence of reserving it for Dion’s son. Presently he took steps yet more violent, threw off all disguise, sold the whole of Dion’s property, and appropriated or distributed among his friends the large proceeds, not less than one hundred talents.[165] Plato, who had the mortification to hear this intelligence while in the palace of Dionysius, was full of grief and displeasure. He implored permission to depart. But though the mind of Dionysius had now been thoroughly set against him by the multiplied insinuations of the calumniators,[166] it was not without difficulty and tiresome solicitations that he obtained permission; chiefly through the vehement remonstrances of Archytas and his companions, who represented to the despot that they had brought him to Syracuse, and that they were responsible for his safe return. The mercenaries of Dionysius were indeed so ill-disposed to Plato, that considerable precautions were required to bring him away in safety.[167]
It was in the spring of 360 B. C. that the philosopher appears to have returned to Peloponnesus from this, his second visit to the younger Dionysius, and third visit to Syracuse. At the Olympic festival of that year, he met Dion, to whom he recounted the recent proceedings of Dionysius.[168] Incensed at the seizure of the property, and hopeless of any permission to return, Dion was now meditating enforcement of his restoration at the point of the sword. But there occurred yet another insult on the part of Dionysius, which infused a more deadly exasperation into the quarrel. Aretê, wife of Dion and half-sister of Dionysius, had continued to reside at Syracuse ever since the exile of her husband. She formed a link between the two, the continuance of which Dionysius could no longer tolerate, in his present hatred towards Dion. Accordingly he took upon him to pronounce her divorced, and to remarry her, in spite of her own decided repugnance, with one of his friends named Timokrates.[169] To this he added another cruel injury, by intentionally corrupting and brutalizing Dion’s eldest son, a youth just reaching puberty.