Epistles

Moreover, these four attempt to express the quality of each object no less than its real essence, owing to the weakness inherent in language [*](cf. Plat. Crat. 438d, Plat. Crat. 438e.); and for this reason, no man of intelligence will ever venture to commit to it the concepts of his reason, especially when it is unalterable—as is the case with what is formulated in writing. But here again you must learn further the meaning of this last statement. Every one of the circles which are drawn in geometric exercises or are turned by the lathe is full of what is opposite to the fifth, since it is in contact with the straight everywhere [*](i.e. any number of straight tangents to a circle may be drawn; or, a circle, like a straight line, is composed of points, therefore the circular is full of the elements of the straight.); whereas the circle itself, as we affirm, contains within itself no share greater or less of the opposite nature. And none of the objects, we affirm, has any fixed name, nor is there anything to prevent forms which are now called round from being called straight, and the straight round [*](f. Plat. Crat. 384d, Plat. Crat. 384e for the view that names are not natural but conventional fixities.); and men will find the names no less firmly fixed when they have shifted them and apply them in an opposite sense. Moreover, the same account holds good of the Definition also, that, inasmuch as it is compounded of names and verbs, it is in no case fixed with sufficient firmness. [*](cf. Plat. Theaet. 208b ff. for the instability of Definitions.) And so with each of the Four, their inaccuracy is an endless topic; but, as we mentioned a moment ago, the main point is this, that while there are two separate things, the real essence and the quality, and the soul seeks to know not the quality but the essence, each of the Four proffers to the soul either in word or in concrete form that which is not sought; and by thus causing each object which is described or exhibited to be always easy of refutation by the senses, it fills practically all men with all manner of perplexity and uncertainty. In respect, however, of those other objects the truth of which, owing to our bad training, we usually do not so much as seek—being content with such of the images as are proffered,—those of us who answer are not made to look ridiculous by those who question, we being capable of analysing and convicting the Four. But in all cases where we compel a man to give the Fifth as his answer and to explain it, anyone who is able and willing to upset the argument gains the day, and makes the person who is expounding his view by speech or writing or answers appear to most of his hearers to be wholly ignorant of the subjects about which he is attempting to write or speak; for they are ignorant sometimes of the fact that it is not the soul of the writer or speaker that is being convicted but the nature of each of the Four, which is essentially defective. But it is the methodical study of all these stages, passing in turn from one to another, up and down, which with difficulty implants knowledge, when the man himself, like his object, is of a fine nature;

but if his nature is bad—and, in fact, the condition of most men’s souls in respect of learning and of what are termed morals is either naturally bad or else corrupted,—then not even Lynceus [*](An Argonaut, noted for his keeness of sight; here, by a playful hyperbole, he is supposed to be also a producer of sight in others; cf. Aristoph.Plut. 210.) himself could make such folk see. In one word, neither receptivity nor memory will ever produce knowledge in him who has no affinity with the object, since it does not germinate to start with in alien states of mind; consequently neither those who have no natural connection or affinity with things just, and all else that is fair, although they are both receptive and retentive in various ways of other things, nor yet those who possess such affinity but are unreceptive and unretentive—none, I say, of these will ever learn to the utmost possible extent the truth of virtue nor yet of vice. For in learning these objects it is necessary to learn at the same time both what is false and what is true of the whole of Existence, [*](cf. Plat. Laws 816d.) and that through the most diligent and prolonged investigation, as I said at the commencement [*](Cf. Plat. L. 7.341c.); and it is by means of the examination of each of these objects, comparing one with another—names and definitions, visions and sense-perceptions,—proving them by kindly proofs and employing questionings and answerings that are void of envy—it is by such means, and hardly so, that there bursts out the light of intelligence and reason regarding each object in the mind of him who uses every effort of which mankind is capable. And this is the reason why every serious man in dealing with really serious subjects [*](For legislation as not a serious subject but playful see Plat. Laws 769a; cf. Plat. Stat. 294a.) carefully avoids writing, lest thereby he may possibly cast them as a prey to the envy and stupidity of the public. In one word, then, our conclusion must be that whenever one sees a man’s written compositions—whether they be the laws of a legislator or anything else in any other form,—these are not his most serious works, if so be that the writer himself is serious: rather those works abide in the fairest region he possesses. [*](i.e. in his head, the abode of unexpressed thoughts; cf. Plat. Tim. 44d.) If, however, these really are his serious efforts, and put into writing, it is not the gods but mortal men who

Then of a truth themselves have utterly ruined his senses.

rather, if he wrote at all, it was to gratify his base love of glory, either by giving out the doctrines as his own discoveries, or else by showing, forsooth, that he shared a culture which he by no means deserved because of his lust for the fame accruing from its possession. Well, then, if such was the effect produced on Dionysius by our one conversation, perhaps it was so; but how this effect was produced

God troweth,

1. There yet again to traverse the length of deadly Charybdis;

He, however, tried to talk me over and entreated me to remain, as he thought it would not be to his own credit that I should hurry away in person to convey such tidings; and when he failed to persuade me he promised to provide a passage for me himself. For I was proposing to embark and sail in the trading-vessels; because I was enraged and thought that I ought to stop at nothing, in case I were hindered, seeing that I was manifestly doing no wrong but suffering wrong. But when he saw that I had no inclination to remain he devised a scheme of the following kind to secure my remaining over that sailing-season. On the following day he came and addressed me in these plausible terms: You and I, he said, must get Dion and Dion’s affairs cleared out of the way, to stop our frequent disputes about them. And this, said he, is what I will do for Dion for your sake. I require that he shall remove his property and reside in the Peloponnese, not, however, as an exile but possessing the right to visit this country also whenever it is mutually agreed by him and by me and by you his friends. But this is on condition that he does not conspire against me; and you and your associates [*](Amongst Plato’s companions on this visit were Speusippus and Xenocrates) and Dion’s here in Sicily shall be the guarantors of these terms, and he shall furnish you with his security. And all the property he shall take shall be deposited in the Peloponnese and Athens with such persons as you shall think fit; and he shall enjoy the income from it but shall not be authorized to remove it without your consent. For I do not altogether trust him to act justly towards me if he had the use of these funds—for they will be by no means small; and I put more trust in you and your friends. So consider whether this arrangement contents you, and remain on these terms for the present year, and when next season arrives depart and take with you these funds of Dion. And I am well assured that Dion will be most grateful to you for having effected this arrangement on his behalf. And I, when I heard this speech, was annoyed, but none the less I replied that I would think it over and let him know next day my decision about the matter; and to this we both then agreed. So after this, when I was by myself, I was thinking it over, very much perturbed. And in my deliberation the first and foremost reflection was this— Come now, suppose that Dionysius has no intention of performing any of his promises, and suppose that on my departure he sends a plausible note to Dion—both writing himself and charging many of his friends also to do so—stating the proposal he is now making to me, and how in spite of his wish I had refused to do what he had invited me to do, and had taken no interest at all in Dion’s affairs;

and beyond all this, suppose that he is no longer willing to send me away by giving his own personal order to one of the shipmasters, but makes it plain to them all that he has no wish for me to sail away in comfort—in this case would any of them consent to convey me as a passenger, [*](For this use of the word ναύτης cf. Soph. Phil. 901.) starting off from the residence of Dionysius? For, in addition to my other misfortunes, I was lodging in the garden adjoining his residence, and out of this not even the doorkeeper would have allowed me to pass without a permit sent him from Dionysius. On the other hand, if I stay on for the year I shall be able to write and tell Dion the position in which I am placed and what I am doing; and if Dionysius should actually perform any of his promises, I shall have accomplished something not altogether contemptible—for Dion’s property, if it is rightly valued, amounts probably to as much as a hundred talents; whereas if the events now dimly threatening come to pass in the way that seems likely, I am at a loss to know what I shall do with myself. Notwithstanding, I am obliged, it appears, to endure another year of toil and endeavor to test by actual experience the devices of Dionysius. When I had come to this decision, I said to Dionysius on the following day—I have decided to remain. I request you, however, I said, not to regard me as Dion’s master, but to join with me yourself in sending him a letter explaining what we have now decided, and asking him whether it satisfies him; and if not, and if he desires and claims other conditions, let him write them to us immediately; and do you refrain till then from taking any new step in regard to his affairs. This is what was said, and this is what we agreed; pretty nearly in the terms I have now stated. [*](For this part of the biographical details cf. Plat. L. 3.318a ff.) After this the vessels had put to sea and it was no longer possible for me to sail; and then it was that Dionysius remembered to tell me that one half of the property ought to belong to Dion, the other half to his son; and he said that he would sell it, and when sold he would give me the one half to convey to Dion, and leave the half intended for his son where it was; for that was the most equitable arrangement. I, then, although I was dumbfounded at his statement, deemed that it would be utterly ridiculous to gainsay him any more; I replied, however, that we ought to wait for the letter from Dion, and then send him back this proposal by letter. But immediately after this he proceeded to sell the whole of Dion’s property in a very high-handed fashion, where and how and to what purchasers he chose, without ever saying a single word to me about the matter; and verily I, in like manner, forbore to talk to him at all any longer about Dion’s affairs; for I thought that there was no longer any profit in so doing.

Now up to this time I had been assisting in this way philosophy and my friends but after this, the kind of life we lived, Dionysius and I, was this—I was gazing out of my cage, like a bird [*](cf. Plat. Phaedrus 249d.) that is longing to fly off and away, while he was scheming how he might shoo me back without paying away any of Dion’s money; nevertheless, to the whole of Sicily we appeared to be comrades. Now Dionysius attempted, contrary to his father’s practice, to reduce the pay of the older members of his mercenary force, and the soldiers, being infuriated, assembled together and refused to permit it. And when he kept trying to force them by closing the gates of the citadel, [*](The mercenaries lived in the island of Ortygia, but beyond the walls of the Acropolis; so when Plato had to quit the Acropolis he was surrounded by them in his new lodgings.) they immediately rushed up to the walls shouting out a kind of barbaric war-chant; whereupon Dionysius became terribly alarmed and conceded all and even more than all to those of the peltasts that were then assembled. Then a report quickly got abroad that Heracleides [*](cf. Plat. L. 3.318c for Heracleides, Theodotes, and Eurybius.) was to blame for all this trouble; and Heracleides, on hearing this, took himself off and vanished. Then Dionysius was seeking to capture him, and finding himself at a loss he summoned Theodotes to his garden; and it happened that at the time I too was walking in the garden. Now the rest of their conversation I neither know nor heard, but I both know and remember what Theodotes said to Dionysius in my presence. Plato, he said, I am urging this course on our friend Dionysius: if I prove able to fetch Heracleides here to answer the charges now made against him, in case it is decided that he must not reside in Sicily, I claim that he should have a passage to the Peloponnese, taking his son and his wife, and reside there without doing injury to Dionysius, and enjoying the income from his property. In fact I have already sent to fetch him, and I will now send again, in case he should obey either my former summons or the present one. And I request and beseech Dionysius that, should anyone meet with Heracleides, whether in the country or here in the city, no harm should be inflicted on him beyond his removal out of the country until Dionysius has come to some further decision. And addressing Dionysius he said, Do you agree to this? I agree, he replied, that even if he be seen at your house he shall suffer no harm beyond what has now been mentioned.

Now on the next day, at evening, Eurybius and Theodotes came to me hurriedly, in an extraordinary state of perturbation; and Theodotes said—Plato, were you present yesterday at the agreement which Dionysius made with us both concerning Heracleides? Of course I was, I replied. But now, he said, peltasts [*](i.e. light-armed soldiers, so called from the kind of light shield they carried.) are running about seeking to capture Heracleides, and he is probably somewhere about here. But do you now by all means accompany us to Dionysius. So we set off and went in to where he was and while they two stood in silence, weeping, I said to him—My friends here are alarmed lest you should take any fresh step regarding Heracleides, contrary to our agreement of yesterday; for I believe it is known that he has taken refuge somewhere hereabouts. On hearing this, Dionysius fired up and went all colors, just as an angry man would do; and Theodotes fell at his knees and grasping his hand besought him with tears to do no such thing. And I interposed and said by way of encouragement—Cheer up, Theodotes; for Dionysius will never dare to act otherwise contrary to yesterday’s agreement. Then Dionysius, with a highly tyrannical glare at me, said— With you I made no agreement, great or small. Heaven is witness, I replied, that you did,—not to do what this man is now begging you not to do. And when I had said this I turned away and went out. After this Dionysius kept on hunting after Heracleides, while Theodotes kept sending messengers to Heracleides bidding him to flee. And Dionysius sent out Tisias and his peltasts with orders to pursue him; but Heracleides, as it was reported, forestalled them by a fraction of a day and made his escape into the Carthaginians’ province. Now after this Dionysius decided that his previous plot of refusing to pay over Dion’s money would furnish him with a plausible ground for a quarrel with me; and, as a first step, he sent me out of the citadel, inventing the excuse that the women had to perform a sacrifice of ten days’ duration in the garden where I was lodging; so during this period he gave orders that I should stay outside with Archedemus. And while I was there Theodotes sent for me and was loud in his indignation at what had then taken place and in his blame of Dionysius; but the latter, when he heard that I had gone to the house of Theodotes, by way of making this a new pretext, akin to the old, for his quarrel against me, sent a man to ask me whether I had really visited Theodotes when he invited me. Certainly, I replied; and he said—Well then, he ordered me to tell you that you are not acting at all honorably in always preferring Dion and Dion’s friends to him. Such were his words; and after this he did not summon me again to his house, as though it was now quite clear that I was friendly towards Theodotes and Heracleides but hostile to him; and he supposed that I bore him no goodwill because of the clean sweep he was making of Dion’s moneys.

Thereafter I was residing outside the citadel among the mercenaries; and amongst others some of the servants who were from Athens, fellow-citizens of my own, came to me and reported that I had been slanderously spoken of amongst the peltasts; and that some of them were threatening that if they could catch me they would make away with me. So I devised the following plan to save myself: I sent to Archytas and my other friends in Tarentum stating the position in which I found myself: and they, having found some pretext for an Embassy from the State, dispatched a thirty-oared vessel, and with it one of themselves, called Lamiscus; and he, when he came, made request to Dionysius concerning me, saying that I was desirous to depart, and begging him by all means to give his consent. To this he agreed, and he sent me forth after giving me supplies for the journey; but as to Dion’s money, neither did I ask for any of it nor did anyone pay me any. On arriving at Olympia, [*](i.e. for the festival of 360 B.C.) in the Peloponnese, I came upon Dion, who was attending the Games; and I reported what had taken place. And he, calling Zeus to witness, was invoking me and my relatives and friends to prepare at once to take vengeance on Dionysius,—we on account of his treachery to guests (for that was what Dion said and meant) , and he himself on account of his wrongful expulsion and banishment. And I, when I heard this, bade him summon my friends to his aid, should they be willing— But as for me, I said, it was you yourself, with the others, who by main force, so to say, made me an associate of Dionysius at table and at hearth and a partaker in his holy rites; and he, though he probably believed that I, as many slanderers asserted, was conspiring with you against himself and his throne, yet refrained from killing me, and showed compunction. Thus, not only am I no longer, as I may say, of an age to assist anyone in war, but I also have ties in common with you both, in case you should ever come to crave at all for mutual friendship and wish to do one another good; but so long as you desire to do evil, summon others. This I said because I loathed my Sicilian wandering [*](Perhaps an allusion to the wanderings of Ulysses; cf. Plat. L. 7.345e.) and its ill-success. They, however, by their disobedience and their refusal to heed my attempts at conciliation have themselves to blame for all the evils which have now happened; for, in all human probability, none of these would ever have occurred if Dionysius had paid over the money to Dion or had even become wholly reconciled to him, for both my will and my power were such that I could have easily restrained Dion. But, as things are, by rushing the one against the other they have flooded the world with woes.

And yet Dion had the same designs as I myself should have had (for so I would maintain) or anyone else whose purpose regarding his own power and his friends and his city was the reasonable one of achieving the greatest height of power and privilege by conferring the greatest benefits. But a man does not do this if he enriches himself, his comrades, and his city by means of plotting and collecting conspirators, while in reality he himself is poor and not his own master but the cowardly slave of pleasures; nor does he do so if he proceeds next to slay the owners of property, dubbing them enemies, and to dissipate their goods, and to charge his accomplices and comrades not to blame him if any of them complains of poverty. So likewise if a man receives honor from a city for conferring on it such benefits as distributing the goods of the few to the many by means of decrees; or if, when he is at the head of a large city which holds sway over many smaller ones, he distributes the funds of the smaller cities to his own, contrary to what is just. For neither Dion nor any other will ever voluntarily [*](According to the Socratic dictum, No one sins voluntarily.) aim thus at a power that would bring upon himself and his race an everlasting curse, but rather at a moderate government and the establishment of the justest and best of laws by means of the fewest possible exiles and executions. Yet when Dion was now pursuing this course, resolved to suffer rather than to do unholy deeds—although guarding himself against so suffering [*](For suffering wrong as a bar to complete happiness cf. Plat. Laws 829a.)—none the less when he had attained the highest pitch of superiority over his foes he stumbled. And therein he suffered no surprising fate. For while, in dealing with the unrighteous, a righteous man who is sober and sound of mind will never be wholly deceived concerning the souls of such men; yet it would not, perhaps, be surprising if he were to share the fate of a good pilot, who, though he certainly would not fail to notice the oncoming of a storm, yet might fail to realize its extraordinary and unexpected violence, and in consequence of that failure might be forcibly overwhelmed. And Dion’s downfall was, in fact, due to the same cause; for while he most certainly did not fail to notice that those who brought him down were evil men, yet he did fail to realize to what a pitch of folly they had come, and of depravity also and voracious greed; and thereby he was brought down and lies fallen, enveloping Sicily in immeasurable woe.

What counsel I have to offer, after this narrative of events, has been given already, and so let it suffice. But I deemed it necessary to explain the reasons why I undertook my second journey to Sicily [*](i.e. Plato’s third Sicilian visit (as he does not count the first), cf. Plat. L. 7.330c, Plat. L. 7.337e.) because absurd and irrational stories are being told about it. If, therefore, the account I have now given appears to anyone more rational, and if anyone believes that it supplies sufficient excuses for what took place, then I shall regard that account as both reasonable and sufficient.

Plato to the relatives and companions of Dion wishes well-doing. The policy which would best serve to secure your real well-doing [*](For this reference to the phrasing of the opening salutation cf. Plat. L. 3 ad init.) is that which I shall now endeavor as best I can to describe to you. And I hope that my advice will not only be salutary to you (though to you in special), but also to all the Syracusans, in the second place, and, in the third, to your enemies and your foes, unless any of them be a doer of impious deeds [*](Alluding to Callippus, the murderer of Dion.); for such deeds are irremediable and none could ever wash out their stain. [*](cf. Plat. Gorg. 525c.) Mark, then, what I now say. Now that the tyranny is broken down over the whole of Sicily all your fighting rages round this one subject of dispute, the one party desiring to recover the headship, and the other to put the finishing touch to the expulsion of the tyrants. Now the majority of men always believe that the right advice about these matters is the advising of such action as will do the greatest possible harm to one’s enemies and the greatest possible good to one’s friends; whereas it is by no means easy to do much harm to others without also suffering in turn much harm oneself. And without going far afield one may see such consequences clearly in the recent events in Sicily itself, where the one faction is trying to inflict injury and the other to ward off the injurers; and the tale thereof, if ever you told it to others, would inevitably prove a most impressive lesson. Of such policies, one may say, there is no lack; but as for a policy which would prove beneficial to all alike, foes as well as friends, or at least as little detrimental as possible to either, such a policy is neither easy to discern, nor, when discerned, easy to carry out; and to advise such a policy or attempt to describe it is much like saying a prayer. [*](Prayer in the sense of a pious wish unlikely to be fulfilled, or a last resort.)

Be it so, then, that this is nothing but a prayer (and in truth every man ought always to begin his speaking and his thinking with the gods); yet may it attain fulfilment in indicating some such counsel as this:—Now and almost ever since the war [*](The struggle against the Carthaginians, which had lasted, with hardly a break, since 409 B.C.) began both you and your enemies have been ruled continuously by that one family which your fathers set on the throne in the hour of their greatest distress, when Greek Sicily was in the utmost danger of being entirely overrun by the Carthaginians and barbarized. On that occasion they chose Dionysius because of his youth and warlike prowess to take charge of the military operations for which he was suited, with Hipparinus, who was older, as his fellow-counsellor, appointing them dictators for the safeguarding of Sicily, with the title, as men say, of tyrants. But whether one prefers to suppose that the cause which ultimately brought about their salvation was divine Fortune and the Deity, or the virtue of the rulers, or possibly the combination of both assisted by the citizens of that age—as to this let everyone form his own notion; in any case this was the way in which salvation for the men of that generation came about. Seeing, then, that they proved themselves men of such a quality, it is surely right that they should be repaid with gratitude by all those whom they saved. But if in after times the tyrant’s house has wrongly abused the bounty of the city, the penalty for this it has suffered in part, [*](Alluding to the expulsion of Dionysius from Sicily; he retired to Locri in Italy.) and in part it will have to pay. What, then, is the penalty rightly to be exacted from them under existing circumstances? If you were able to get quit of them easily, without serious dangers and trouble, or if they were able to regain the empire without difficulty, then, in either case, it would not have been possible for me so much as to offer the advice which I am now about to utter; but as it is, both of you ought to bear in mind and remember how many times each party has hopefully imagined that it lacked but a little of achieving complete success almost every time; and, what is more, that it is precisely this little deficiency which is always turning out to be the cause of great and numberless evils. And of these evils no limit is ever reached, but what seems to be the end of the old is always being linked on to the beginning of a new brood; and because of this endless chain of evil the whole tribe of tyrants and democrats alike will be in danger of destruction. But should any of these consequences—likely as they are though lamentable—come to pass, hardly a trace of the Greek tongue will remain in all Sicily, since it will have been transformed into a province or dependency of Phoenicians or Opicians. [*](Probably some tribes of central Italy, Samnites or Campanians.) Against this all the Greeks must with all zeal provide a remedy.

If, therefore, any man knows of a remedy that is truer and better than that which I am now about to propose, and puts it openly before us, he shall have the best right to the title Friend of Greece. The remedy, however, which commends itself to me I shall now endeavor to explain, using the utmost freedom of speech and a tone of impartial justice. For indeed I am speaking somewhat like an arbitrator, and addressing to the two parties, the former despot and his subjects, as though each were a single person, the counsel I gave of old. And now also my word of advice to every despot would be that he should shun the despot’s title and his task, and change his despotism for kingship. That this is possible has been actually proved by that wise and good man Lycurgus [*](cf. Plat. L. 4.320d.); for when he saw that the family of his kinsmen in Argos and in Messene had in both cases destroyed both themselves and their city by advancing from kingship to despotic power, he was alarmed about his own city as well as his own family, and as a remedy he introduced the authority of the Elders and of the Ephors to serve as a bond of safety for the kingly power [*](cf. Plat. Laws 692a.); and because of this they have already been kept safe and glorious all these generations since Law became with them supreme king over men instead of men being despots over the laws. And now also I urgently admonish you all to do the same. Those of you who are rushing after despotic power I exhort to change their course and to flee betimes from what is counted as bliss by men of insatiable cravings and empty heads, and to try to transform themselves into the semblance of a king, and to become subject to kingly laws, owing their possession of the highest honors to the voluntary goodwill of the citizens and to the laws. And I should counsel those who follow after the ways of freedom, and shun as a really evil thing the yoke of bondage, to beware lest by their insatiable craving for an immoderate freedom they should ever fall sick of their forefathers’ disease, which the men of that time suffered because of their excessive anarchy, through indulging an unmeasured love of freedom. For the Siceliots of the age before Dionysius and Hipparinus began to rule were living blissfully, as they supposed, being in luxury and ruling also over their rulers; and they even stoned to death the ten generals who preceded Dionysius, without any legal trial, [*](Plato is here in error, apparently: the stoning took place at an earlier date at Agrigentum.) to show that they were no slaves of any rightful master, nor of any law, but were in all ways altogether free. Hence it was that the rule of the despots befell them.

For as regards both slavery and freedom, when either is in excess it is wholly evil, but when in moderation wholly good; and moderate slavery consists in being the slave of God, immoderate, in being the slave of men; and men of sound sense have Law for their God, [*](Law is divine as the dispensation of Reason (νόμος being derived from νοῦς), cf. Plat. Laws 762e. For evils of excessive freedom cf. Plat. Rep. 564a.) but men without sense Pleasure. Since these things are naturally ordained thus, I exhort Dion’s friends to declare what I am advising to all the Syracusans, as being the joint advice both of Dion and myself; and I will be the interpreter of what he would have said to you now, were he alive and able to speak. [*](For this artifice of putting words into the mouth of an absent speaker cf. Plat. Menex. 246c ff., Plat. L. 7.328d.) Pray then, someone might say, what message does the advice of Dion declare to us concerning the present situation? It is this: Above all else, 0 ye Syracusans, accept such laws as do not appear to you likely to turn your minds covetously to money-making and wealth; but rather—since there are three objects, the soul, the body, and money besides,—accept such laws as cause the virtue of the soul to be held first in honor, that of the body second, subordinate to that of the soul, and the honor paid to money to come third and last, in subjection to both the body and the soul. [*](For this classification of goods cf. Plat. Gorg. 477c; Plat. Laws 697b, Plat. Laws 726a ff.) The ordinance which effects this will be truly laid down by you as law, since it really makes those who obey it blessed [*](cf. Plat. Laws 631b; also Plat. L. 355c infra, Plat. L. 6.323d.); whereas the phrase which terms the rich blessed is not only a miserable one in itself, being the senseless phrase of women and children, but also renders those who believe it equally miserable. That this exhortation of mine is true you will learn by actual experience if you make trial of what I am now saying concerning laws; for in all matters experience is held to be the truest test. [*](cf. Plat. Rep. 408e ff., Plat. Rep. 452d ff.) And when you have accepted laws of this kind, inasmuch as Sicily is beset with dangers, and you are neither complete victors nor utterly vanquished, it will be, no doubt, both just and profitable for you all to pursue a middle course—not only those of you who flee from the harshness of the tyranny, but also those who crave to win back that tyranny—the men whose ancestors in those days performed the mightiest deed in saving the Greeks from the barbarians, with the result that it is possible for us now to talk about constitutions; whereas, if they had then been ruined, no place would have been left at all for either talk or hope. So, then, let the one party of you gain freedom by the aid of kingly rule, and the other gain a form of kingly rule that is not irresponsible, with the laws exercising despotic sway over the kings themselves as well as the rest of the citizens, in case they do anything illegal.

On these conditions set up kings for all of you, by the help of the gods and with honest and sound intent,—my own son [*](i.e. Hipparinus, who was about twenty years old at this time; cf. Prefatory Note, and Plat. L. 7.324a.) first in return for twofold favors, namely that conferred by me and that conferred by my father; for he delivered the city from barbarians in his own day, while I, in the present day, have twice delivered it from tyrants, [*](cf. Plat. L. 7.333b.) whereof you yourselves are witnesses. And as your second king create the man who possesses the same name as my father and is son to Dionysius, [*](i.e. Dionysius the Elder: cf. Plat. L. 8.357c. This Hipparinus, Dion’s nephew, was now assisting Dion’s party in their attacks on Callippus from their base at Leontini.) in return for his present assistance and for his pious disposition; for he, though he is sprung from a tyrant’s loins, is in act of delivering the city of his own free will, gaining thereby for himself and for his race everlasting honor in place of a transitory and unrighteous tyranny. And, thirdly, you ought to invite to become king of Syracuse—as willing king of a willing city—him who is now commander of your enemies’ army, Dionysius, son of Dionysius, if so be that he is willing of his own accord to transform himself into a king, being moved thereto by fear of fortune’s changes, and by pity for his country and the untended state of her temples and her tombs, lest because of his ambition he utterly ruin all and become a cause of rejoicing to the barbarians. And these three,—whether you grant them the power of the Laconian kings [*](That power was little more than nominal, dealing chiefly with matters of religion.) or curtail that power by a common agreement,—you should establish as kings in some such manner as the following, which indeed has been described to you before, [*](cf. Plat. L. 7.337b ff.) yet listen to it now again. If you find that the family of Dionysius and Hipparinus is willing to make an end of the evils now occurring in order to secure the salvation of Sicily provided that they receive honors both in the present and for the future for themselves and for their family, then on these terms, as was said before, convoke envoys empowered to negotiate a pact, such men as they may choose, whether they come from Sicily or from abroad or both, and in such numbers as may be mutually agreed. And these men, on their arrival, should first lay down laws and a constitution which is so framed as to permit the kings to be put in control of the temples and of all else that fitly belongs to those who once were benefactors. And as controllers of war and peace they should appoint Law-wardens, thirty-five in number, in conjunction with the People and the Council. And there should be various courts of law for various suits, but in matters involving death or exile the Thirty-five should form the court; and in addition to these there should be judges selected from the magistrates of each preceding year, one from each magistracy—the one, that is, who is approved as the most good and just; and these should decide for the ensuing year all cases which involve the death, imprisonment or transportation of citizens;

and it should not be permissible for a king to be a judge of such suits, but he, like a priest, should remain clean from bloodshed and imprisonment and exile. [*](For the scheme here proposed cf. Plat. L. 7.337b ff., Plat. Laws 752d ff., Plat. Laws 762c ff., Plat. Laws 767c ff., Plat. Laws 855c.) This is what I planned for you when I was alive, and it is still my plan now. With your aid, had not Furies in the guise of guests [*](Alluding to Dion’s murderers, Callippus and Philostratus; cf. Plat. L. 7.333e ff.) prevented me, I should then have overcome our foes, and established the State in the way I planned; and after this, had my intentions been realized, I should have resettled the rest of Sicily by depriving the barbarians of the land they now hold—excepting those who fought in defence of the common liberty against the tyranny— and restoring the former occupiers of the Greek regions to their ancient and ancestral homes. And now likewise I counsel you all with one accord to adopt and execute these same plans, and to summon all to this task, and to count him who refuses as a common enemy. Nor is such a course impossible; for when plans actually exist in two souls, and when they are readily perceived upon reflection to be the best, he who pronounces such plans impossible is hardly a man of understanding. And by the two souls I mean the soul of Hipparinus the son of Dionysius and that of my own son; for should these agree together, I believe that all the rest of the Syracusans who have a care for their city will consent. Well then, when you have paid due honor, with prayer, to all the gods and all the other powers to whom, along with the gods, it is due, cease not from urging and exhorting both friends and opponents by gentle means and every means, until, like a heaven-sent dream presented to waking eyes, [*](cf. Plat. Soph. 266c, Plat. Rep. 533c.) the plan which I have pictured in words be wrought by you into plain deeds and brought to a happy consummation.

Plato to Archytas [*](cf. Plat. L. 7.338c, Plat. L. 7.350a. Archippus and Philonides were also members of the Pythagorean School, as was Echecrates (in 358 B) .) of Tarentum wishes well-doing. Archippus and Philonides and their party have arrived, bringing us the letter which you gave them, and also reporting your news. Their business with the city they have completed without difficulty—for in truth it was not at all a hard task; and they have given us a full account of you, telling us that you are somewhat distressed at not being able to get free from your public engagements.

Now it is plain to almost everyone that the pleasantest thing in life is to attend to one’s own business, especially when the business one chooses is such as yours; yet you ought also to bear in mind that no one of us exists for himself alone, but one share of our existence belongs to our country, another to our parents, a third to the rest of our friends, while a great part is given over to those needs of the hour with which our life is beset. And when our country itself calls us to public duties, it were surely improper not to hearken to the call [*](cf. Plat. Rep. 347, Plat. Rep. 521, Plat. Rep. 540.); for to do so will involve the further consequence of leaving room to worthless men who engage in public affairs from motives that are by no means the best. Enough, however, of this subject. We are looking after Echecrates now and we shall do so in the future also, for your sake and that of his father Phrynion, as well as for the sake of the youth himself.

Plato to Aristodorus wishes well-doing. I hear that you now are and always have been one of Dion’s most intimate companions, since of all who pursue philosophy you exhibit the most philosophic disposition; for steadfastness, trustiness, and sincerity—these I affirm to be the genuine philosophy, but as to all other forms of science and cleverness which tend in other directions, I shall, I believe, be giving them their right names if I dub them parlor-tricks. [*](cf. Plat. Gorg. 486c, Plat. Gorg. 521d.) So farewell, and continue in the same disposition in which you are continuing now.

Plato to Laodamas wishes well-doing. I wrote to you before that in view of all that you say it is of great importance that you yourself should come to Athens. But since you say that this is impossible, the second best course would have been that I, if possible, or Socrates should go to you, as in fact you said in your letter. At present, however, Socrates is laid up with an attack of strangury; while if I were to go there, it would be humiliating if I failed to succeed in the task for which you are inviting me. But I myself have no great hopes of success (as to my reasons for this, another long letter would be required to explain them in full), and moreover, because of my age, I am not physically fit to go wandering about and to run such risks as one encounters both by sea and land; and at present there is nothing but danger for travellers everywhere. [*](Probably an allusion to the prevalence of pirates (such as Alexander of Pherae) in the Aegean Sea.)