This was precisely the first step which Dion had been laboring to bring about. He well knew, and had personally felt, the wonderful magic of Plato’s conversation when addressed to young men. To bring Plato to Syracuse, and to pour his eloquent language into the predisposed ears of Dionysius, appeared like realizing the conjunction of philosophy and power. Accordingly he sent to Athens, along with the invitation from Dionysius, the most pressing and emphatic entreaties from himself. He represented the immense prize to be won—nothing less than the means of directing the action of an organized power, extending over all the Greeks of Italy and Sicily—provided only the mind of Dionysius could be thoroughly gained over. This (he said) was already half done; not only Dionysius himself, but also his youthful half brothers of the other line, had been impressed with earnest mental aspirations, and longed to drink at the pure fountain of true philosophy. Everything presaged complete success, such as would render them hearty and active proselytes, if Plato would only come forthwith—before hostile influences could have time to corrupt them—and devote to the task his unrivalled art of penetrating the youthful mind. These hostile influences were indeed at work, and with great activity; if victorious, they would not only defeat the project of Dion, but might even provoke his expulsion, or threaten his life. Could Plato, by declining the invitation, leave his devoted champion and apostle to fight so great a battle, alone and unassisted? What could Plato say for himself afterwards, if by declining to come, he not only let slip the greatest prospective victory which had ever been opened to philosophy, but also permitted the corruption of Dionysius and the ruin of Dion?[142] [142] Plato, Epist. vii. p. 328.