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Marcus Tullius Cicero >> Letters of Cicero
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XXVII
SERVIUS SULPICIUS TO CICERO (AT ASTURA)
ATHENS (MARCH)
WHEN I received the news of your daughter Tullia's death, I -was
indeed much grieved and distressed as I was bound to be, and
looked upon it as a calamity in which I shared. For, if I had been at
home, I should not have failed to be at your side, and should have
made my sorrow plain to you face to face. That kind of consolation
involves much distress and pain, because the relations and friends,
whose part it is to offer it, are themselves overcome by an equal
sorrow. They cannot attempt it without many tears, so that they
seem to require consolation themselves rather than to be able to
afford it to others. Still I have decided to set down briefly for your
benefit such thoughts as have occurred to my mind, not because I
suppose them to be unknown to you, but because your sorrow may
perhaps hinder you from being so keenly alive to them.
Why is it that a private grief should agitate you so deeply? Think
how fortune has hitherto dealt with us. Reflect that we have had
snatchcd from us what ought to be no less dear to human beings
than their children--country, honour, rank, every political
distinction. What additional wound to your feelings could be
inflicted by this particular loss? Or where is the heart that should
not by this time have lost all sensibility and learn to regard
everything else as of minor importance? Is it on her account, pray,
that you sorrow? How many times have you recurred to the
thought--and I have often been struck with the same idea--that in
times like these theirs is far from being the worst fate to whom it
has been granted to exchange life for a painless death? Now what
was there at such an epoch that could greatly tempt her to live?
What scope, what hope, what heart's solace? That she might spend
her life with some young and distinguished husband? How
impossible for a man of your rank to select from the present
generation of young men a son-in-law, to whose honour you might
think yourself safe in trusting your child! Was it that she might
bear children to cheer her with the sight of their vigorous youth?
who might by their own character maintain the position handed
down to them by their parent, might be expected to sta~id for the
offices in their order, might exercise their freedom in supporting
their friends? What single one of these prospects has not been
taken away before it was given? But, it will be said, after all it is
an evil to lose one's children. Yes, it is: only it is a worse one to
endure and submit to the present state of things.
I wish to mention to you a circumstance which gave me no
common consolation, on the chance of its also proving capable of
diminishing your sorrow. On my voyage from Asia, as I was
sailing from Aegina towards Megara, I began to survey the
localities that were on every side of me. Behind me was Aegina, in
front Megara, on the right Piraeus, on my left Corinth: towns
which at one time were most flourishing, but now lay before my
eyes in ruin and decay. I began to reflect to myself thus: "Hah! do
we mannikins feel rebellious if one of us perishes or is killed--we
whose life ought to be still shorter--when the corpses of so many
towns lie in helpless ruin? Will you please, Servius, restrain
yourself and recollect that you are born a mortal man?" Believe
me, I was no little strengthened by that reflection. Now take the
trouble, if you agree with me, to put this thought before your eyes.
Not long ago all those most illustrious men perished at one blow:
the empire of the Roman people suffered that huge loss: all the
provinces were shaken to their foundations. If you have become
the poorer by the frail spirit of one poor girl, are you agitated thus
violently? If she had not died now, she would yet have had to die a
few years hence, for she was mortal born. You, too, withdraw soul
and thought from such things and rather remember those which
become the part you have played in life: that she lived as long as
life had anything to give her; that her life outlasted that of the
Republic; that she lived to see you--her own father--praetor,
consul, and augur; that she married young men of the highest rank;
that she had enjoyed nearly every possible blessing; that, when the
Republic fell, she departed from life. What fault have you or she to
find with fortune on this score? In fine, do not forget that you are
Cicero, and a man accustomed to instruct and advise others; and
do not imitate bad physicians, who in the diseases of others profess
to understand the art of healing, but are unable to prescribe for
themselves. Rather suggest to yourself and bring home to your own
mind the very maxims which you are accustomed to impress upon
others. There is no sorrow beyond the power of time at length to
diminish and soften: it is a reflexion on yea that you should wait
for this period, and not rather anticipate that restmlt by the aid of
your wisdom. But if here is any consciousness still existing in the
world below, such was her love for you and her dutiful affection
for all her family, that she certainly does not wish you to act as you
are acting. Grant this to her--your lost one! Grant it to your friends
and comrades who mourn with you in your sorrow! Grant it to your
country, that if the need arises she may have the use of your
services and advice.
Finally--since we are reduced by fortune to the necessity of taking
precautions on this point also--do not allow anyone to think that
you are not mourning so much for your daughter as for the state of
public affairs and the victory of others. I am ashamed to say any
more to you on this subject, lest I should appear to distrust your
wisdom. Therefore I will only make one suggestion before
bringing my letter to an end. We have seen you on many occasions
bear good fortune with a noble dignity which greatly enhanced
yotmr fame: now is the time for you to convince us that you are
able to bear bad fortune equally well, and that it does not appear to
you to be a heavier burden than you ought to think it. I would not
have this to be the only one of all the virtues that you do not
possess.
As far as I am concerned, when I learn that your mind is more
composed, I will write you an account of what is going on here,
and of the condition of th. province. Good-bye.
XXVIII
To SERVIUS SULPICIUS RUFUS (IN ACHAIA)
FICULEA (APRIL)
YES, indeed, my dear Servius, I would have wished--as you
say--that you had been by my side at the time of my grievous loss.
How much help your presence might have given me, both by
consolation and by your taking an almost equal share in my
sorrow, I can easily gather from the fact that after reading your
letter I experienced a great feeling of relief. For not only was what
you wrote calculated to soothe a mourner, but in offering me
consolation you manifested no slight sorrow of heart yourself. Yet,
after all, your son Servius by all the kindness of which such a time
admitted made it evident, both how much he personally valued me,
and how gratifying to you he thought such affection for me would
be. His kind offices have of course often been pleasanter to me, yet
never more acceptable. For myself again, it is not only your words
and (I had almost said) your partnership in my sorrow that
consoles me, it is your character also. For I think it a disgrace that I
should not bear my loss as you--a man of such wisdom-- think it
should be borne. But at times I am taken by surprise and scarcely
offer any resistance to my grief, because those consolations fail
me, which were not wanting in a similar misfortune to those
others, whose examples I put before my eyes. For instance,
Quintus Maximus, who lost a son who had been consul and was of
illustrious character and brilliant achievements, and Lucius
Paullus, who lost two within seven days, and your kinsman Gallus
and M. Cato, who each lost a son of the highest character and
valour,--all lived in circumstances which permitted their own great
position, earned by their public services, to assuage their grief. In
my case, after losing the honours which you yourself mention, and
which I had gained by the greatest possible exertions, there was
only that one solace left which has now been torn away. My sad
musings were not interrupted by the business of my friends, nor by
the management of public affairs: there was nothing I cared to do
in the forum: I could not bear the sight of the senate-house; I
thought--as was the fact--that I had lost all the fruits both of my
industry and of fortune. But while I thought that I shared these
losses with you and certain others, and while I was conquering my
feelings and forcing myself to bear them with patience, I had a
refuge, one bosom where I could find repose, one in whose
conversation and sweetness I could lay aside all anxieties and
sorrows. But now, after such a crushing blow as this, the wounds
which seemed to have healed break out afresh. For there is no
republic now to offer me a refuge and a consolation by its good
fortunes when I leave my home in sorrow, as there once was a
home to receive me when I returned saddened by the state of
public affairs. Hence I absent myself both from home and forum,
because home can no longer console the sorrow which public
affairs cause me, nor public affairs that which I suffer at home. All
the more I look forward to your coming, and long to see you as
soon as possible. No reasoning can give me greater solace than a
renewal of our intercourse and conversation. However, I hope your
arrival is approaching, for that is what I am told. For myself, while
I have many reasons for wishing to see you as soon as possible,
there is this one especially--that we may discuss beforehand on
what principles we should live through this period of entire
submission to the will of one man who is at once wise and liberal,
far, as I think I perceive, from being hostile to me, and very
friendly to you. But though that is so, yet it is a matter for serious
thought what plans, I don't say of action, but of passing a quiet life
by his leave and kindness, we should adopt. Good-bye.
XXIX
To ATTICUS (AT ROME)
PUTEOLI, 2! DECEMBER
WELL, I have no reason after all to repent my formidable guest!
For he made himself exceedingly pleasant. But on his arrival at the
villa of Philippus on the evening of the second day of the
Saturnalia, the villa was so choke full of soldiers that there was
scarcely a dining-room left for Caesar himself to dine in. Two
thousand men, if you please! I was in a great taking as to what was
to happen the next day; and so Cassius Barba came to my aid and
gave me guards. A camp was pitched in the open, the villa was put
in a state of defence. He stayed with Philippus on the third day of
the Saturnalia till one o'clock, without admitting anyone. He was
engaged on his accounts, I think, with Balbus. Then he took a walk
on the beach. After two he went to the bath. Then he heard about
Mamurra without changing countenance. He was anointed: took
his place at the table. He was under a course of emetics, and so ate
and drank without scruple and as suited his taste. It was a very
good dinner, and well served, and not only so, but
"Well cooked, well seasoned food, with rare discourse:
A banquet in a word to cheer the heart."
Besides this, the staff were entertained in three rooms in a very
liberal style. The freedmen of lower rank and the slaves had
everything they could want. But the upper sort had a really
recherche dinner. In fact, I shewed that I was somebody. However,
he is not a guest to whom one would say, "Pray look me up again
on your way back." Once is enough. We didn't say a word about
politics. There was plenty of literary talk. In short, he was pleased
and enjoyed himself. He said he should stay one day at Puteoli,
another at Baiaee. That's the story of the entertainment, or I might
call it the billeting on me--trying to the temper, but not seriously
inconvenient. I am staying on here for a short time and then go to
Tusculum. When he was passing Dolabella's villa, the whole guard
formed up on the right and left of his horse, and nowhere else.
This I was told by Nicias.
XXX
To ATTICUS (AT ROME)
MATIUS'S SUBURBAN VILLA, 7 APRIL
I HAVE come on a visit to the man, of whom I was talking to you
this morning. His view is that "the state of things is perfectly
shocking: that there is no way out of the embroglio. For if a man of
Caesar's genius failed, who can hope to succeed ?" In short, he says
that the ruin is complete. I am not sure that he is wrong; but then
he rejoices in it, and declares that within twenty days there will be
a rising in Gaul: that he has not had any conversation with anyone
except Lepidus since the Ides of March: finally that these things
can't pass off like this. What a wise man Oppius is, who regrets
Caesar quite as much, but yet says nothing that can offend any
loyalist! But enough of this. Pray don't be idle about writing me
word of anything new, for I expect a great deal. Among other
things, whether we can rely on Sextus Pompeius; but above all
about our friend Brutus, of whom my host says that Caesar was in
the habit of remarking: "It is of great importance what that man
wishes; at any rate, whatever he wishes he wishes strongly": and
that he noticed, when he was pleading for Deiotarus at Nicaea, that
he seemed to speak with great spirit and freedom. Also--for I like
to jot down things as they occur to me--that when on the request of
Sestius I went to Caesar's house, and was sitting waiting till I was
called in, he remarked: "Can I doubt that I am exceedingly
disliked, when Marcus Cicero has to sit waiting and cannot see me
at his own convenience? And yet if there is a good-natured man in
the world it is he; still I feel no doubt that he heartily dislikes me."
This and a good deal of the same sort. But to my purpose.
Whatever the news, small as well as great, write and tell me of it. I
will on my side let nothing pass.
XXXI
To ATTICUS (AT ROME)
ASTURA, II JUNE
AT length a letter-carrier from my son! And, by Hercules, a letter
elegantly expressed, shewing in itself some progress. Others also
give me excellent reports of him. Leonides, however, still sticks to
his favourite "at present." But Herodes speaks in the highest terms
of him. In short, 1 am glad even to be deceived in this matter, and
am not sorry to be credulous. Pray let me know if Statius has
written to you anything of importance to me.
XXXII
To ATTICUS (AT ROME)
ASTURA, 13 JUNE
CONFOUND Lucius Antonius, if he makes himself troublesome to
the Buthrotians! I have drawn out a deposition which shall be
signed and sealed whenever you please. As for the money of the
Arpinates, if the aedile L. Fadius asks for it, pay him back every
farthing. In a previous letter I mentioned to you a sum of 110
sestertia to be paid to Statius. If, then, Fadius applies for the
money, I wish it paid to him, and to no one except Fadius. I think
that amount was put into my hands, and I have written to Eros to
produce it.
I can't stand the Queen: and the voucher for her promises,
Hammonius, knows that I have good cause for saying so. What she
promised, indeed, were all things of the learned sort and suitable
to my character--such as I could avow even in a public meeting. As
for Sara, besides finding him to be an unprincipled rascal, I also
found him inclined to give himself airs to me. I only saw him
once at my house. And when I asked him politely what I could do
for him, he said that he had come in hopes of finding Atticus. The
Queen's insolence, too, when she was living in Caesar's trans-
Tiberine villa, I cannot recall without a pang. I won't have anything
to do therefore with that lot. They think not so much that I have no
spirit, as that I have scarcely any proper pride at all. My leaving
Italy is hindered by Eros's way of doing business. For whereas
from the balances struck by him on the 5th of April I ought to be
well off, I am obliged to borrow, while the receipts from those
paying properties of mine I think have been put aside for building
the shrine. But I have charged Tiro to see to all this, whom I am
sending to Rome for the express purpose.
I did not wish to add to your existing embarrassments. The steadier
the conduct of my son, the more I am vexed at his being hampered.
For he never mentioned the subject to me--the first person to
whom he should have done so. But he said in a letter to Tiro that
he had received nothing since the 1st of April--for that was the end
of his financial year. Now I know that your own kind feeling
always caused you to be of opinion that he ought to be treated not
only with liberality, but with splendour and generosity, and that
you also considered that to be due to my position. Wherefore pray
see--I would not have troubled you if I could have done it through
anyone else--that he has a bill of exchange at Athens for his year's
allowance. Eros will pay you the money. I am sending Tiro on that
business. Pray therefore see to it, and write and tell me any idea
you may have on the subject.
XXXIII
To C. TREBATIUS TESTA (AT ROME)
TUSCULUM (JUNE)
You jeered at me yesterday amidst our cups, for having said that it
was a disputed point whether an heir could lawfully prosecute on
an embezzlement which had been committed before he became the
owner. Accordingly, though I returned home full of wine and late
in the evening, I marked the section in which that question is
treated and caused it to be copied out and sent to you. I wanted to
convince you that the doctrine which you said was held by no one
was maintamed by Sextus Aelius, Manius Manilius, Marcus
Brutus. Nevertheless, I concur with Scaevola and Testa.
XXXIV
M. CICERO (THE YOUNGER) TO TIR0
ATHENS (AUGUST)
AFTER I had been anxiously expecting letter-carriers day after
day, at length they arrived forty-six days after they left you. Their
arrival was most welcome to me: for while I took the greatest
possible pleasure in the letter of the kindest and most beloved of
fathers, still your most delightful letter put a finishing stroke to my
joy. So I no longer repent of having suspended writing for a time,
but am rather rejoiced at it; for I have reaped a great reward in
your kindness from my pen having been silent. I am therefore
exceedingly glad that you have unhesitatingly accepted my excuse.
I am sure, dearest Tiro, that the reports about me which reach you
answer your best wishes and hopes. I will make them good, and
will do my best that this belief in me, which day by day becomes
more and more en evidence, shall be doubled. Wherefore you may
with confidence and assurance fulfil your promise of being the
trumpeter of my reputation. For the errors of my youth have caused
me so much remorse and suffering, that not only does my heart
shrink from what I did, my very ears abhor the mention of it. And
of this anguish and sorrow I know and am assured that you have
taken your share. And I don't wonder at it! for while you wished
me all success for my sake, you did so also for your own; for I
have ever meant you to be my partner in all my good fortunes.
Since, therefore, you have suffered sorrow through me, I will now
take care that through me your joy shall be doubled. Let me assure
you that my very close attachment to Cratippus is that of a son
rather than a pupil: for though I enjoy his lectures, I am also
specially charmed with his delightful manners. I spend whole days
with him, and often part of the night: for I induce him to dine with
me as often as possible. This intimacy having been established, he
often drops in upon us unexpectedly while we are at dinner, and
laying aside the stiff airs of a philosopher joins in our jests with
the greatest possible freedom. He is such a man--so delightful, so
distinguished--that you should take pains to make his acquaintance
at the earliest possible opportunity. I need hardly mention Bruttius,
whom I never allow to leave my side. He is a man of a strict and
moral life, as well as being the most delightful company. For in
him fun is not divorced from literature and the daily philosophical
inquiries which we make in common. I have hired a residence next
door to him, and as far as I can with my poor pittance I subsidize
his narrow means. Farthermore, I have begun practising
declamation in Greek with Cassius; in Latin I like having my
practice with Bruttius. My intimate friends and daily company are
those whom Cratippus brought with him from Mitylene--good
scholars, of whom he has the highest opinion. I also see a great
deal of Epicrates, the leading man at Athens, and Leonides, and
other men of that sort. So now you know how I am going on.
You remark in your letter on the character of Gorgias. The fact is, I
found him very useful in my daily practice of declamation; but I
subordinated everything to obeying my father's injunctions, for he
had written ordering me to give him up at once. I wouldn't shilly-
shally about the business, for fear my making a fuss should cause
my father to harbour some suspicion. Moreover, it occurred to me
that it would be offensive for me to express an opinion on a
decision of my father's. However, your interest and advice are
welcome and acceptable. Your apology for lack of time I quite
accept; for I know how busy you always are. I am very glad that
you have bought an estate, and you have my best wishes for the
success of your purchase. Don't be surprised at my congratulations
coming in at this point in my letter, for it was at the corresponding
point in yours that you told me of your purchase. You are a man of
property! You must drop your city manners: you have become a
Roman country-gentleman. How clearly I have your dearest face
before my eyes at this moment! For I seem to see you buying
things for the farm, talking to your bailiff, saving the seeds at
dessert in the corner of your cloak. But as to the matter of money, I
am as sorry as you that I was not on the spot to help you. But do
not doubt, my dear Tiro, of my assisting you in the future, if
fortune does but stand by me; especially as I know that this estate
has been purchased for our joint advantage. As to my commissions
about which you are taking trouble--many thanks! But I beg you to
send me a secretary at the earliest opportunity--if possible a Greek;
for he will save me a great deal of trouble in copying out notes.
Above all, take care of your health, that we may have some literary
talk together hereafter. I commend Anteros to you.
XXXV
QUINTUS CICERO TO TIRO
(TIME AND PLACE UNCERTAIN)
I HAVE castigated you, at least with the silent reproach of my
thoughts, because this is the second packet that has arrived without
a letter from you. You cannot escape the penalty for this crime by
your own advocacy: you will have to call Marcus to your aid, and
don't be too sure that even he, though he should compose a speech
after long study and a great expenditure of midnight oil, would be
able to establish your innocence. In plain terms, I beg you to do as
I remember my mother used to do. It was her custom to put a seal
on wine-jars even when empty to prevent any being labelled empty
that had been surreptitiously drained. In the same way, I beg you,
even if you have nothing to write about, to write all the same, lest
you be thought to have sought a cover for idleness: for I always
find the news in your letters trustworthy and welcome. Love me,
and goodbye.
XXXVI
To M. IUNIUS BRUTUS (IN MACEDONIA)
ROME (MIDDLE OF JULY)
YOU have Messalla with you. What letter, therefore, can I write
with such minute care as to enable me to explain to you what is
being done and what is occurring in public affairs, more
thoroughly than he will describe them to you, who has at once the
most intimate knowledge of everything, and the talent for
unfolding and conveying it to you in the best possible manner? For
beware of thinking, Brutus--for though it is unnecessary for me to
write to you what you know already, yet I cannot pass over in
silence such eminence in every kind of greatness--beware of
thinking, I say, that he has any parallel in honesty and firmness,
care and zeal for the Republic. So much so that in him
eloquence--in which he is extraordinarily eminent--scarcely seems
to offer any opportunity for praise. Yet in this accomplishment
itself his wisdom is made more evident; with such excellent
judgment and with so much acuteness has he practised himself in
the most genuine style of rhetoric. Such also is his industry, and so
great the amount of midnight labour that he bestows on this study,
that the chief thanks would not seem to be due to natural genius,
great as it is in his case. But my affection carries me away: for it is
not the purpose of this letter to praise Mesalla, especially to
Brutus, to whom his excellence is not less known than it is to me,
and these particular accomplishments of his which I am praising
even better. Grieved as I was to let him go from my side, my one
consolation was that in going to you who are to me a second self,
he was performing a duty and following the path of the truest
glory. But enough of this. I now come, after a long interval of time,
to a certain letter of yours, in which, while paying me many
compliments, you find one fault with me--that I was excessive and,
as it were, extravagant in proposing votes of honour. That is your
criticism: another's, perhaps, might be that I was too stern in
inflicting punishment and exacting penalties, unless by chance you
blame me for both. If that is so, I desire that my principle in both
these things should be very clearly known to you. And I do not rely
solely on the dictum of Solon, who was at once the wisest of the
Seven and the only lawgiver among them. He said that a state was
kept together by two things--reward and punishment. Of course
there is a certain moderation to be observed in both, as in
everything else, and what we may call a golden mean in both these
things. But I have no intention to dilate on such an important
subject in this place.
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