That surrender brought his power to a maximum. It was the turning-point and crisis of his life. A splendid opportunity was now opened, of earning for himself fame and gratitude. He might have attached his name to an act as sublime and impressive as any in Grecian history, which, in an evil hour, he left to be performed in after days by Timoleon—the razing of the Dionysian stronghold, and the erection of courts of justice on its site. He might have taken the lead in organizing, under the discussion and consent of the people, a good and free government, which, more or less exempt from defect as it might have been, would at least have satisfied them, and would have spared Syracuse those ten years of suffering which intervened until Timoleon came to make the possibility a fact. Dion might have done all that Timoleon did—and might have done it more easily, since he was less embarrassed both by the other towns in Sicily and by the Carthaginians. Unfortunately he still thought himself strong enough to resume his original project. In spite of the spirit, kindled partly by himself, among the Syracusans—in spite of the repugnance, already unequivocally manifested, on the mere suspicion of his despotic designs—he fancied himself competent to treat the Syracusans as a tame and passive herd; to carve out for them just as much liberty as he thought right, and to require them to be satisfied with it; nay, even worse, to defer giving them any liberty at all, on the plea, or pretence, of full consultation with advisers of his own choice. Through this deplorable mistake, alike mischievous to Syracuse and to himself, Dion made his government one of pure force. He placed himself in a groove wherein he was fatally condemned to move on from bad to worse, without possibility of amendment. He had already made a martyr of Herakleides, and he would have been compelled to make other martyrs besides, had his life continued. It is fortunate for his reputation that his career was arrested so early, before he had become bad enough to forfeit that sympathy and esteem with which the philosopher Plato still mourns his death, appeasing his own disappointment by throwing the blame of Dion’s failure on every one but Dion himself. CHAPTER LXXXV. SICILIAN AFFAIRS DOWN TO THE CLOSE OF THE EXPEDITION OF TIMOLEON. B. C. 353-336.