was blamed for his too great austerity, and using an inflexible severity towards the people, he was never observed to depart in the least from it, either from' being naturally averse to the arts of insinuation and persuasion, or that in the design he had of correcting and reforming 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 remon strating 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 exgina rerum oratio. Cic. 1. 1. de Divin, n. 80.

[x] This is what an ancient poet called, Aexanima atque omnium re

ploits of valour and wisdom, which made him equal in glory to the greatest men of his age. After he had obliged Dionysius to quit Sicily, he recalled all the citizens, whom the tyrants had banished into different countries; he got together sixty thousand of them to re-people the deserted city; he divided the lands among them, gave them laws, and established a form of civil government in conjunction with commissioners from Corinth; he cleared all Sicily of tyrants, with which it had been long infested, restored peace and security in all places, and supplied the cities ruined by the war, with all things necessary for re-instating themselves.

After such glorious actions, which had gained him unlimited credit, he voluntarily renounced his authority, and passed the rest of his life at Syracuse as a private 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 Sicily. There was no treaty of peace, no new law, no division of lands, no regulation of policy made, without Timoleon's being concerned in it, and giving the last hand to it.

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 respect that they had for him, that it only served to augment them. The 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 shew them their benefactor 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 chariot 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 whole people. When he had given his opinion, which was always

always religiously observed, his servants carried him back in his chariot across the theatre, the whole people reconducting him beyond the gates of the city with the like acclamations and applauses.

They paid him still greater honours after his death. His funeral was solemnized with the utmost magnificence, and the greatest ornament of it was the tears and blessing bestowed by the people upon the deceased, which were not the effect of mere custom and decency, but proceeded from a sincere affection and the most cordial gratitude. They farther made an ordinance, that every year for the future, upon the day of his death, games of music, wrestling, and horseraces should be celebrated in honour of his memory.

Nothing was ever more consummate than what history tells us of Timoleon. I do not mean only his great exploits in the field, and the good success of all his enterprises: what I admire most in him, is his warm and disinterested love for the public good, reserving to himself only the pleasure of seeing others happy by his services: his freedom from all insolence of power, and pride of worth, his retirement into the country, his modesty, moderation, declining of honours, and, what is still more extraordinary, his aversion to all flattery, and even for the justest praise. [y] When at any time mention was made of his wisdom, his valour, and the glory he had acquired in expelling the tyrants, he only replied, that he thought himself highly indebted to the gods, for making choice of him to be the minister of their will, when they determined to restore the peace and liberty of Sicily; for he was thoroughly persuaded, that all human events were directed and governed by the secret orders of Divine Providence.

I cannot conclude this article concerning the government of Sicily, without desiring the reader to

[y] Cùm suas laudes audiret prædicari, nunquam aliud dixit, quàm se in ea re maximas diis agere gratias atque habere, quòd, cùm Siciliam recreare constituissent, tum

VOL. III.

D

se potissimùm ducem esse voluissent. Nihil enim rerum humanarum sine deorum numine agi putabat. Corn. Nep. in Vit. Timol. cap. 4.

cont

compare the happy and peaceable old age of Timoleon, who was esteemed, honoured, and beloved by every body, with the miserable life of Dionysius the tyrant (I mean the father) who was continually haunted with terror, apprehension, the horror and execration of the public. [z] During the whole course. of his reign, which lasted eight and thirty years, he wore a cuirass of brass under his robe. He never made a speech to the people, but from the top of a tower. And not daring to rely upon any of his friends or kindred, he took foreigners and slaves to guard him, going abroad as seldom as he could, his fear obliging him to condemn himself to a kind of perpetual imprisonment. That he might not trust his life and throat in the hands of a barber, he made his daugh ters shave him, who were then very young; and when they were grown up, he took the scissars and razor out of their hands, and taught them to singe off his hair and beard with nut-shells; [a] and at last did this office himself, evidently not caring to rely any longer upon his own daughters. He never went by night into the apartments of his wives, without causing them to be thoroughly searched, and with great care. His bed was encompassed with a very large and deep entrenchment, having a draw-bridge, which opened a passage to it. After he had well bolted and barred the doors of his chamber, he raised this bridge, that he might sleep securely. [b] Neither his brother, nor his son, were allowed to come into his chamber, without changing their clothes, and being searched by the guards. Can a life of such continual jealousy and terror be properly called reigning, or even living? [c] A king, who really deserves that name, needs no guards but for form, and the outward splendor of majesty; [d] as he lives in the midst of his own family,

[*] Cic. lib. 5. Tusc. Quæst. n. 58, 62.

[a] Lib. 2. de Off. n. 25.

[b] Plut. in Vit. Dion.

sees

tus, nihil præsidio eget: arma ornamenti causâ hebet. Sen. lib. 1. de Clem. cap. 13.

[d] Quod tutius imperium est,

[c] Princeps, suis beneficiis tu- quam illud, quod amore & cari

tate

sees none but his own children wherever he goes, visits none but his friends, and is always in a country committed to his care and tenderness; whilst all his subjects, instead of fearing him, are only afraid for him.

What comparison, [e] says Tully, in one of his books of Tusculan Questions, is there between the wretched and fearful life of Dionysius the tyrant, and that of Plato, Archytas, and a great many other philosophers, who lived at the same time? This prince, in the midst of pomp and grandeur, condemned by his own choice to a kind of dungeon, excluded the conversation of all good men, passed his life with slaves, wretches, and barbarians, regarding every man as an enemy, who set a just value upon liberty, employed only in murder and bloodshed, and spending his days and nights in continual terror. The others, united by the same sentiments of happiness and taste of study, formed amongst themselves the most pleasing and agreeable society that can possibly be imagined, exempt from all care and uneasiness, and knowing ho other pleasure but what arises from the contemplation of truth, and the love of virtue, wherein these philosophers placed the whole happiness of man.

[f] It was in their school, and from their conversations, that Dion had imbibed these principles and sentiments, which he endeavoured to instil into the young Dionysius, exhorting him to govern his subjects with humanity and tenderness, as a good father governs his family. "Consider," said he," that the "chains which support and strengthen a monarchical

government, and which your father boasted he had "made as hard to break as adamant, are neither fearnor force, as he imagined, a great number of gal"lies, nor a guard of thousands of barbarians; but the affection, love and gratitude, which the virtue "and justice of princes raise in the hearts of their people; and that chains formed by such sentiments,