43 BC SELECT LETTERS TO SEVERAL FRIENDS by Cicero translated by W. Melmoth şiElectronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1996, World Library(R) DAK Upgraded Edition, Copyright 2000, DAK Industries 2000, Inc(R)şI {TO_POMPEY_THE_GREAT|AD_FAM_V_VII TO POMPEY THE GREAT (Ad. Fam. V. vii) - YOUR letter to the senate afforded inexpressible satisfaction, not only to myself, but to the public in general: as the hopes it brought us of a peace, are agreeable to those expectations, which, in full confidence of your superior abilities, I had always encouraged the world to entertain. I must acquaint you, however, that it entirely sunk the spirits of that party, who, from being formerly your declared enemies, have lately become your pretended friends: as it utterly disappointed their most sanguine hopes. Notwithstanding the letter which you wrote to me by the same express discovered but very slight marks of your affection; yet I read it with pleasure. The truth is, I am always abundantly satisfied with the consciousness of having exerted my best offices towards my friends; and if they do not think proper to make me an equal return, I am well contented that the superiority should remain on my side. But if my utmost zeal for your interests has not been sufficient to unite you to mine, I doubt not that our co-operating together upon the same patriot-principles will be the means of cementing us more strongly hereafter. In the meantime, it would neither be agreeable to the openness of my temper, nor to the freedom of that mutual friendship we profess, to conceal what I thought wanting in your letter. I will acknowledge, then, that the public services I performed during my late consulship, gave me reason to expect, from your attachment both to myself and to the commonwealth, that you would have sent me your congratulations: and I am persuaded you would not have omitted them, but from a tenderness to certain persons. Let me assure you, however, that what I have performed for the preservation of my country, has received the concurrent applauses of the whole world. You will find when you return hither, I conducted that important scene with so much spirit and policy, that you, like another Scipio, though far superior, indeed, to that hero in glory, will not refuse to admit me, like a second Laelius, and not much behind him, I trust, in wisdom, as the friend and associate of your private and public transactions. Farewell. - [62 B.C.] {TO_TERENTIA|AD_FAM_XV_IV TO TERENTIA, TO MY DEAREST TULLIA, AND TO MY SON (Ad Fam. XV. iv) - IF you do not hear from me so frequently as you might, it is because I can neither write to you, nor read your letters, without falling into a greater passion of tears than I am able to support: for though I am at all times, indeed, completely miserable, yet I feel my misfortunes with a particular sensibility upon those tender occasions. Oh! that I had been more indifferent to life! Our days would then have been, if not wholly unacquainted with sorrow, yet by no means thus wretched. However, if any hopes are still reserved to us of recovering some part at least of what we have lost, I shall not think that I have made altogether so imprudent a choice. But if our present fate is unalterably fixed- Ah! my dearest Terentia, if we are utterly and for ever abandoned by those gods whom you have so religiously adored, and by those men whom I have so faithfully served; let me see you as soon as possible, that I may have the satisfaction of breathing out my last departing sigh in your arms. I have spent about a fortnight at this place, with my friend Marcus Flaccus. This worthy man did not scruple to exercise the rites of friendship and hospitality towards me, notwithstanding the severe penalties of that iniquitous law against those who should venture to give me reception. May I one day have it in my power to make him a return to those generous services, which I shall ever most gratefully remember. I am just going to embark, and purpose to pass through Macedonia in my way to Cyzicum. And now, my Terentia, thus wretched and ruined as I am, can I entreat you, under all that weight of pain and sorrow with which, I too well know, you are oppressed, can I entreat you to be the partner and companion of my exile? But must I then live without you? I know not how to reconcile myself to that hard condition; unless your presence at Rome may be a mean of forwarding my return; if any hopes of that kind should indeed subsist. But should there, as I sadly suspect, be absolutely none, come to me, I conjure you, if it be possible: for never can I think myself completely ruined, whilst I shall enjoy my Terentia's company. But how will my dearest daughter dispose of herself? A question which you yourselves must consider: for, as to my own part, I am utterly at a lost what to advise. At all events, however, that dear unhappy girl must not take any measures that may injure her conjugal repose, or affect her in the good opinion of the world. As for my son- let me not at least be deprived of the consolation of folding him for ever in my arms. But I must lay down my pen a few moments: my tears flow too fast to suffer me to proceed. {TO_TERENTIA|AD_FAM_XV_IV ^paragraph 5} I am under the utmost solicitude, as I know not whether you have been able to preserve any part of your estate, or (what I sadly fear) are cruelly robbed of your whole fortune. I hope Piso will always continue, what you represent him to be, entirely ours. As to the manumission of the slaves; I think you have no occasion to be uneasy. For with regard to your own, you only promised them their liberty as they should deserve it; but, excepting Orpheus, there are none of them that have any great claim to this favour. As to mine, I told them, if my estate should be forfeited, I would give them their freedom, provided I could obtain the confirmation of that grant: but if I preserved my estate, that they should all of them, excepting only a few whom I particularly named, remain in their present condition. But this is a matter of little consequence. With regard to the advice you give me of keeping up my spirits, in the belief that I shall again be restored to my country; I only wish that I may have reason to encourage so desirable an expectation. In the meantime, I am greatly miserable, in the uncertainty when I shall hear from you, or what hand you will find to convey your letters. I would have waited for them at this place, but the master of the ship on which I am going to embark, could not be prevailed upon to lose the present opportunity of sailing. For the rest, let me conjure you in my turn to bear up under the pressure of our afflictions with as much resolution as possible. Remember that my days have all been honourable; and that I now suffer, not for my crimes, but my virtues. No, my Terentia, nothing can justly be imputed to me, but that I survived the loss of my dignities. However, if it was more agreeable to our children that I should thus live, let that reflection teach us to submit to our misfortunes with cheerfulness; insupportable as upon all other considerations they would undoubtedly be. But alas, whilst I am endeavouring to keep up your spirits, I am utterly unable to preserve my own! I have sent back the faithful Philetaerus: as the weakness of his eyes made him incapable of rendering me any service. Nothing can equal the good offices I receive from Sallustius. Pescennius likewise has given me strong marks of his affection: and I hope he will not fail in his respect also to you. Sicca promised to attend me in exile; but he changed his mind, and has left me at this place. I entreat you to take all possible care of your health: and be assured, your misfortunes more sensibly affect me than my own. Adieu, my Terentia, thou most faithful and best of wives! adieu. And thou my dearest daughter, together with that other consolation of my life, my dear son, I bid you both most tenderly farewell. {TO_TERENTIA|AD_FAM_XV_IV ^paragraph 10} - BRUNDISIUM, April 30th, [58 B.C.]. {TO_TERENTIA|AD_FAM_XIV_II TO TERENTIA, TO MY DEAREST TULLIA, AND TO MY SON (Ad Fam. XIV. ii) - IMAGINE not, my Terentia, that I write longer letters to others than to yourself: be assured at least, if ever I do, it is merely because those I receive from them require a more particular answer. The truth of it is, I am always at a loss what to write: and as there is nothing in the present dejection of my mind, that I perform with greater reluctance in general; so I never attempt it with regard to you and my dearest daughter, that it does not cost me a flood of tears. For how can I think of you without being pierced with grief in the reflection, that I have made those completely miserable whom I ought, and wished, to have rendered perfectly happy? And I should have rendered them so, if I had acted with less timidity. Piso's behaviour towards us in this season of our afflictions, has greatly endeared him to my heart: and I have, as well as I was able in the present discomposure of my mind, both acknowledged his good offices and exhorted him to continue them. I perceive you depend much upon the new tribunes: and if Pompey perseveres in his present disposition, I am inclined to think that your hopes will not be disappointed; though I must confess, I have some fears with respect to Crassus. In the meanwhile I have the satisfaction to find, what indeed I had reason to expect, that you act with great spirit and tenderness in all my concerns. But I lament it should be my cruel fate to expose you to so many calamities, whilst you are thus generously endeavouring to ease the weight of mine. Be assured it was with the utmost grief I read the account which Publius sent me, of the opprobrious manner in which you were dragged from the temple of Vesta, to the office of Valerius. Sad reverse indeed! That thou, the dearest object of my fondest desires, that my Terentia, to whom such numbers were wont to look up for relief, should be herself a spectacle of the most affecting distress! and that I, who have saved so many others from ruin, should have ruined both myself and my family by my own indiscretion! As to what you mention with regard to the Area belonging to my house, I shall never look upon myself as restored to my country, till that spot of ground is again in my possession. But this is a point that does not depend upon ourselves. Let me rather express my concern for what does; and lament that, distressed as your circumstances already are, you should engage yourself in a share of those expenses which are incurred upon my account. Be assured, if ever I should return to Rome, I shall easily recover my estate: but should fortune continue to persecute me, will you, thou dear unhappy woman, will you fondly throw away in gaining friends to a desperate cause, the last scanty remains of your broken fortunes! I conjure you then, my dearest Terentia, not to involve yourself in any charges of that kind: let them be borne by those who are able, if they are willing, to support the weight. In a word, if you have any affection for me, let not your anxiety upon my account injure your health: which, alas! is already but too much impaired. Believe me, you are the perpetual subject of my waking and sleeping thoughts: and as I know the assiduity you exert in my behalf, I have a thousand fears lest your strength should not be equal to so continued a fatigue. I am sensible at the same time that my affairs depend entirely upon your assistance: and therefore that they may be attended with the success you hope and so zealously endeavour to obtain, let me earnestly entreat you to take care of your health. {TO_TERENTIA|AD_FAM_XIV_II ^paragraph 5} I know not whom to write to, unless to those who first write to me, or whom you particularly mention in your letters. As you and Tullia are of opinion that I should not retreat farther from Italy, I have laid aside that design. Let me hear from you both as often as possible, particularly if there should be any fairer prospect of my return. Farewell, ye dearest objects of my most tender affection, Farewell! - THESSALONICA, Oct. 5th, [58 B.C.]. {TO_FADIUS_GALLUS|AD_FAM_VII_XXVI TO FADIUS GALLUS (Ad Fam. VII. xxvi) - I HAVE been attacked with a disorder in my bowels, which continued with great violence during ten days: but as it was not attended with a fever, I could not persuade those who had occasion for my services, that I was really indisposed. In order therefore to avoid their importunities, I retired to Tusculum; having observed so strict an abstinence for two days before, as not to have tasted even a drop of water. Reduced then as I am by my illness and my fasting, I had more reason to hope for a visit from you, than to imagine you expected one from me. Distempers of every kind I greatly dread, but particularly of that sort for which the Stoics have censured your favourite Epicurus, where he complains of being violently afflicted with the dysentery and the strangury: as the former, they assert, is the consequence of table indulgencies, and the latter of a more shameful intemperance. I had indeed great reason to apprehend a dysentery: but whether it be from change of air, or a relaxation from business, or that the distemper had almost spent itself, I know not; but I am somewhat better since I came hither. You will wonder perhaps what excesses I have been guilty of, to bring upon myself this disorder. I must inform you then, that I owe it to the frugal regulations of the sumptuary law. The products of the earth being excepted out of the restrictions of that act; our elegant eaters, in order to bring vegetables into fashion, have found out a method of dressing them in so high a taste, that nothing can be more palatable. It was immediately after having eaten very freely of a dish of this sort, at the inauguration feast of Lentulus, that I was seized with a diarrhoea, which has never ceased till this day. Thus you see, that I who have withstood all the temptations that the noblest lampreys and oysters could throw in my way, have at last been overpowered by paltry beets and mallows: but it has taught me however to be more cautious for the future. As Anicius found me in one of my sick fits, you must undoubtedly have heard of my illness: I was in hopes therefore you would not have contented yourself with inquiring after my welfare, but would have given me the satisfaction of a visit. I purpose to continue here, till I shall have re-established my health: for I am extremely weakened and emaciated. But if I can once get the better of my disorder, I hope I shall find no difficulty in recovering all the rest. Farewell. - [Circa 46 B.C.] {TO_FADIUS_GALLUS|AD_FAM_VII_XXIII TO FADIUS GALLUS (Ad Fam. VII. xxiii) - I RECEIVED your letter immediately upon my return from Arpinum, together with one likewise from Avianus, in which he very generously offers to give me credit as long as I shall require. Now let me desire you to imagine yourself in my situation, and then tell me, whether I can, with a good grace, ask him to allow me even the least time for the payment of this money, much less above a year? Indeed, my dear friend, I should not have been in this difficulty, if you had not exceeded the limits of my commission, both in the particulars and the sum. However, I am not only willing to ratify the agreement you have made for the statues you mention, but am likewise much obliged to you. I am sensible indeed that in the zeal of your friendship you have purchased for me what pleased your own eye, and what you imagined would be worthy of mine; and I always considered you as a man of the most judicious and elegant taste in every kind. Nevertheless, I shall be extremely glad if Damasippus should continue in the resolution of taking these figures off my hands: for, to own the plain truth, I have no sort of inclination to them myself. As you were not apprised of my intentions, you have actually consented to pay more for these four or five pieces of sculpture, than I would have given for all the statues in the universe. You compare the images of the priestesses of Bacchus, to those of the Muses which I bought of Metellus. But surely, my friend, the two instances are by no means parallel. For in the first place the Muses themselves would have condemned me, if I had ever rated them at so extravagant a price: and in the next, I purchased the figures you mention as bearing an allusion to my studies, and affording a suitable ornament to my library. But where can I, with any propriety, place these Bacchanals? That they are, as you assure me, extremely beautiful, I know full well; for I have frequently seen them: and therefore I should particularly have named them to you, if they had suited my purpose. The purchases which I usually make of this kind are such only as are proper to embellish my Palaestra, in the same manner as the public Gymnasia are generally decorated. But would it not be absurd enough, my good friend, if I, who upon all occasions, you know, have distinguished myself as the friend of peace, should erect a statue of the God of war. It is well there was not a Saturn too; for how could I have expected to have been out of debt, whilst I had lived under the aspect of two such unlucky divinities? Mercury would have been a much more welcome guest: for I should have hoped, by his influence, to have made a more advantageous bargain with Avianus. As to the figure designed for the support of a table, which you intended to reserve for your own use; you shall have it, if you still remain in the same mind; if not, I am ready to take it myself. Upon the whole, however, I had much rather have employed this money in the purchase of a little lodge at Tarracina, that I might not always trouble my friend and host. But this mistake is partly owing to the carelessness of my freedman, in not observing the instructions I gave him; and partly also to Junius: whom I suppose you know, as he is a particular friend of Avianus. As I have lately built some additional apartments to my little portico at Tusculum, I was desirous of adorning them with a few pictures: for if I take pleasure in anything of this kind, it is in paintings. However, if I must have these statues, let me know where they are, when they will arrive, and by what conveyance you purpose to send them. For if Damasippus should change his intentions of buying them, I shall find, perhaps, some pretender to his taste, who may be glad of the purchase: and I should be willing to part with them even at a loss. When I received your first letter concerning the house you want to take, belonging to Cassius, I was just setting out from Rome, and therefore I left your commission with my daughter. However, I took an opportunity myself of talking upon this affair with your friend Nicia: who, you know, is very intimate with Cassius. At my return hither, and before I had opened your last letter, I inquired of Tullia what she had done in this matter. She told me, she had applied to Licinia to speak to her brother Cassius: but I believe he is not upon very good terms with his sister. The answer which Licinia gave my daughter was, that her husband being gone into Spain, she durst not remove in his absence and without his knowledge. I am greatly obliged to you for being so desirous of my company as to be impatient to get into a house where you may not only be near me, but actually under the same roof. Be assured, I am no less desirous of having you for my neighbour: and as I am sensible how much it will contribute to our mutual satisfaction, I shall try every expedient for that purpose. If I should have any success, I will let you know: in the meanwhile, I beg you would return me a particular answer to this letter, and tell me at the same time when I may expect to see you. Farewell. - [62 B.C.] {TO_MARCUS_MARIUS|AD_FAM_VII_I TO MARCUS MARIUS (Ad Fam. VII. i) - IF your general valetudinary disposition prevented you from being a spectator of our late public entertainments; it is more to fortune than to philosophy that I am to impute your absence. But if you declined our party for no other reason than as holding in just contempt what the generality of the world so absurdly admire, I must at once congratulate you both on your health and your judgement. I say this upon a supposition, however, that you were enjoying the philosophical advantages of that delightful scene, in which, I imagine, you were almost wholly deserted. At the same time that your neighbours, probably, were nodding over the dull humour of our trite farces; my friend, I dare say, was indulging his morning meditations in that elegant apartment, from whence you have opened a prospect to Sejanum, through the Stabian hills. And whilst you are employing the rest of the day in those various polite amusements, which you have the happy privilege to plan out for yourself; we, alas, had the mortification of tamely enduring those dramatical representations, to which Maetius, it seems, our professed critic, had given his infallible sanction! but as you will have the curiosity, perhaps, to require a more particular account; I must tell you, that though our entertainments were extremely magnificent indeed, yet they were by no means such as you would have relished: at least if I may judge of your taste by my own. Some of those actors who had formerly distinguished themselves with great applause, but had long since retired, I imagined, in order to preserve the reputation they had raised, were now again introduced upon the stage: as in honour, it seems, of the festival. Among these was my old friend Aesopus: but so different from what we once knew him, that the whole audience agreed he ought to be excused from acting any more. For when he was pronouncing the celebrated oath, - If I deceive, be Jove's dread vengeance hurl'd, etc. - {TO_MARCUS_MARIUS|AD_FAM_VII_I ^paragraph 5} the poor old man's voice failed him: and he had not strength to go through with the speech. As to the other parts of our theatrical entertainments, you know the nature of them so well, that it is scarce necessary to mention them. They had less indeed to plead in their favour than even the most ordinary representations of this kind can usually claim. The enormous parade with which they were attended, and which, I dare say, you would very willingly have spared, destroyed all the grace of the performance. What pleasure could it afford to a judicious spectator, to see a thousand mules prancing about the stage, in the tragedy of Clytaemnestra; or whole regiments accoutred in foreign armour, in that of the Trojan Horse? In a word, what man of sense could be entertained with viewing a mock army drawn up on the stage in battle array? These, I confess, are spectacles extremely well adapted to captivate vulgar eyes; but undoubtedly would have had no charm in yours. In plain truth, my friend, you would have received more amusement from the dullest piece that Protogenes could possibly have read to you (my own orations however let me always except) than we met with at these ridiculous shows. I am well persuaded at least, you could not regret the loss of our Oscan and Grecian farces. Your own noble senate will always furnish you with drollery sufficient of the former kind: and as to the latter, I know you have such an utter aversion to everything that bears the name of Greek, that you will not even travel the Grecian road to your villa. As I remember you once despised our formidable gladiators, I cannot suppose you would have looked with less contempt on our athletic performers: and indeed Pompey himself acknowledges, that they did not answer the pains and expense they had cost him. The remainder of our diversions consisted in combats of wild beasts, which were exhibited every morning and afternoon during five days successively; and it must be owned, they were magnificent. Yet after all, what entertainment can possibly arise to an elegant and humanised mind, from seeing a noble beast struck to the heart by its merciless hunter, or one of our own weak species cruelly mangled by an animal of much superior strength? But were there anything really worth observing in spectacles of this savage kind; they are spectacles extremely familiar to you: and those I am speaking of had not any peculiar novelty to recommend them. The last day's sport was composed entirely of elephants: which, though they made the common people stare indeed, did not seem however to afford them any great satisfaction. On the contrary, the terrible slaughter of these poor animals created a general commiseration: as it is a prevailing notion, that these creatures in some degree participate of our rational faculties. That you may not imagine I had the happiness of being perfectly at my ease during the whole of this pompous festival; I must acquaint you, that while the people were amusing themselves at the plays, I was almost killed with the fatigue of pleading for your friend Gallus Caninius. Were the world as much inclined to favour my retreat, as they showed themselves in the case of Aesopus, believe me I would for ever renounce my art, and spend the remainder of my days with you and some others of the same philosophical turn. The truth of it is, I began to grow weary of this employment, even at a time when youth and ambition prompted my perseverance: and I will add, too, when I was at full liberty to exercise it in defence of those only whom I was inclined to assist. But in my present circumstances, it is absolute slavery. For, on the one side, I never expect to reap any advantage from my labours of this kind; and, on the other, in compliance with solicitations which I cannot refuse, I am sometimes under the disagreeable necessity of appearing as an advocate in behalf of those who ill deserve that favour at my hands. For these reasons I am framing every possible pretence for living hereafter according to my own taste and sentiments: as I highly both approve and applaud that retired scene of life which you have so judiciously chosen. I am sensible, at the same time, that this is the reason you so seldom visit Rome. However I the less regret that you do not see it oftener, as the numberless unpleasing occupations in which I am engaged would prevent me from enjoying the entertainment of your conversation, or giving you that of mine: if mine, indeed, can afford you any. But if ever I should be so fortunate as to disentangle myself, in some degree at least (for I am contented not to be wholly released), from these perplexing embarrassments; I will undertake to show even my elegant friends, wherein the truest refinements of life consist. In the meanwhile, continue to take care of your health, that you may be able, when that happy time shall arrive, to accompany me in my litter to my several villas. You must impute it to the excess of my friendship, and not to the abundance of my leisure, that I have lengthened this letter beyond my usual extent. It was merely in compliance with a request in one of yours, where you intimate a desire that I would compensate in this manner what you lost by not being present at our public diversions. I shall be extremely glad if I have succeeded; if not, I shall have the satisfaction however to think, that you will for the future be more inclined to give us your company on these occasions, than to rely on my letters for your amusement. Farewell. - [55 B.C.] {TO_LENTULUS|AD_FAM_I_IX TO LENTULUS (Ad Fam. I. ix) - IT IS with singular pleasure I perceive by your letter that you are sensible, I will not say of my affection only, but of my devotion towards you. Even that sacred term indeed can but ill express the sentiments you merit from me: and if you esteem yourself (as you would persuade me) obliged by my endeavours to serve you, it is your friendship alone which can make you think so. I am sure at least I could not refuse you my best good offices, without being guilty of the most unpardonable ingratitude. You would have experienced, however, much stronger and more powerful instances of my friendship, if, instead of being thus long separated from each other, we had passed this interval together at Rome. It is not only in the particular article you mention, and in which no man is more qualified to shine, that I impatiently wish to receive you as my coadjutor: it is not, I say, in the senate alone that our amicable concurrence would have been distinguished; it would have appeared conspicuous, my friend, in every act of public concernment. Suffer me then to add, previously to the information you request me to give you of my political sentiments and situation, that if fortune had not thus divided us, I should have enjoyed in you a wise and faithful guide; as you would have found in me, a kind, a friendly, and, perhaps, no unexperienced associate. However, I rejoice (as undoubtedly I ought) at the honourable occasion of your absence, and in which your military conduct and success has procured you the illustrious title of Imperator. Nevertheless, I must repeat it again, it is owing to this circumstance, that you have not received far more abundant and efficacious fruits of that friendship, to which you have so undisputed a claim. In particular, I should most strenuously have united with you in taking just vengeance on those whose ill offices you have experienced, partly in resentment of your having supported and protected me in my adversity, and partly as they envy you the glory of so generous an action. One of them, however, has sufficiently anticipated our revenge, and drawn down by his own hands the chastisement he merits from ours. The person I mean is that man who has ever distinguished himself by opposing his benefactors, and who, after having received from you the highest services, singled you out as the object of his impotent malice. This man, in consequence of being detected in his late infamous attempts, has entirely and irretrievably lost at once both his honour and his liberty. As to yourself, though I had much rather you should gain experience by my misfortunes than your own; yet it affords me some consolation under your present disappointment, that you have not paid so severe a fine as I did, for being taught the little dependence there is upon the professions of the world. A reflection this, which may very properly serve as an introduction to the account you require of the motives of my late transactions. You are informed then, it seems, that I am reconciled with Caesar and Appius: a step, you assure me, which you do not disapprove. But you are at a loss to guess what reasons could induce me to appear at the trial of Vatinius, not only as an advocate, but as a witness in his favour. To set this matter in the clearest light, it will be necessary to trace back the motives of my conduct to their original source. Let me observe then, my Lentulus, that when I was recalled from exile by your generous offices, I considered myself as restored, not only to my friends and to my family, but to the commonwealth in general. And as you had a right to the best returns of my affection and gratitude for the distinguished part you acted in that affair; so I thought there was something more than ordinary due from me to my country, which had so singularly co-operated with you upon this occasion. I often took an opportunity, during your consulate, of publicly declaring these my sentiments in the senate: as I always, you well know, expressed myself to the same purpose in our private conversations. Nevertheless, I had many reasons at that time to be highly disgusted. I could not, in truth, but observe the disguised malice of some and the coolness of others, when you were endeavouring to procure a decree for restoring the inscription of that honourable monument of my public services, which had been erected by the senate. But it was not only in this instance that those who had many obligations to concur in your good offices towards me, acted a part I had little reason to expect. They looked indeed with much ungenerous indifference on the cruel outrage which was offered to my brother and myself under our own roof: and the estimate they made in pursuance of the senate's order of the damages I had sustained by these acts of violence, was far unequal to my real loss. This last article of their injustice, though least indeed in my concern, I could not but very sensibly feel amidst the general wreck of my fortunes. But though these mortifying marks of their disposition towards me were much too notorious to escape my observation; they could not efface the more agreeable impressions of their former friendship. For this reason, notwithstanding those high obligations I had to Pompey, of which you yourself were witness, and have often mentioned; notwithstanding also the affection and esteem which I always entertained for him, yet I still firmly adhered to my political principles: nor suffered these considerations of private amity to influence me in favour of his public measures. Accordingly, when Vatinius (who at the trial of P. Sextius was examined as a witness against him) intimated that Caesar's successes had reconciled me to his party; I told him, in the presence of Pompey, that I preferred the fate of Bibulus, unhappy as he might esteem it, to all the splendid triumphs of the most victorious general. I asserted likewise upon another occasion (and asserted too in the hearing of Pompey) that the same persons who confined Bibulus to his house, had driven me from mine. Indeed, the whole series of those interrogatories which I put to Vatinius at this trial, was entirely designed as an invective against his tribunate: and I particularly exposed, with much freedom and indignation, his contempt of the Auspices, his corrupt disposal of foreign kingdoms, together with the rest of his violent and illegal proceedings. But it was not only upon this occasion that I spoke thus unreservedly: I frequently avowed my sentiments with the same resolute spirit in the senate. Thus when Marcellinus and Philippus were consuls, I carried a motion on 5th April that the affair of the Campanian lands should be referred to the re-consideration of a full house, on the 15th of May following. Now tell me, my friend, could I possibly have made a bolder or more formidable attack upon this party? Could I possibly have given a more convincing evidence, that I had not departed from my old principles, notwithstanding all I had formerly suffered for their sake? The truth of it is, this motion greatly exasperated, not only those whom it was reasonable to expect it would offend, but others upon whom I did not imagine it would have had any such effect. Pompey, soon after this decree had passed, set forward upon his expedition into Sardinia and Africa, without giving me the least intimation of his being disgusted. In his way thither he had a conference with Caesar at Lucca, who made great complaints of this motion. He had before, it seems, been informed of it by Crassus at Ravenna; who took that opportunity of incensing him against me. And it appeared afterwards that Pompey was likewise much dissatisfied upon the same account. This I learnt from several hands, but particularly from my brother, who met him in Sardinia, a few days after he had left Lucca. Pompey told him he was extremely glad of that accidental interview, as he wanted much to talk with him. He begun with saying, that as my brother stood engaged for my conduct, he should expect him to exert all his endeavours to influence me accordingly. Pompey then proceeded very warmly to remonstrate against my late motion in the senate; reminding my brother of his services to us both, and particularly of what had passed between them concerning Caesar's edicts, and of those assurances, he said, my brother had given him of the measures I would pursue with respect to that article. He added, that my brother himself was a witness that the steps he had formerly taken for procuring my recall, were with the full consent and approbation of Caesar. Upon the whole, therefore, he entreated him, if it were either not in my power or my inclination to support the interest and dignity of the latter, that he would at least prevail with me not to oppose them. The account which my brother gave me of this conversation, together with a message I had before received from Pompey by Vibullius, to request that I would not proceed any farther in the affair of the Campanian lands till his return, threw me into a very serious train of reflections. I could not but think, after having performed and suffered so much for my country, that I might now at least be permitted to consider what was due to gratitude and to the honour of my brother: and as I had ever conducted myself with integrity towards the public, I might be allowed, I hoped, to act the same honest part in my more private connections. During the time I was engaged in these votes and other proceedings with which Pompey appeared thus dissatisfied, I was informed of what passed in the conversations of a set of men, whom you will now guess without my naming. This party, though they approved of my public measures, as being agreeable to what had ever been their professed sentiments; were yet so ungenerous as to express great satisfaction in believing, that my conduct would by no means oblige Pompey, at the same time that it would highly exasperate Caesar. Well might I resent, indeed, so injurious a treatment; but much more when I saw them, even before my face, maliciously encouraging and caressing my avowed enemy;- mine do I call him? Rather let me say an enemy to the laws and tranquillity of his country, and to every character of worth and virtue amongst us. Their malevolence, however, had not the effect they intended, and it could not warm me into those transports of indignation, of which my heart is now, indeed, no longer susceptible. On the contrary, it only induced me to examine my situation in all its various circumstances and relations, with the greatest coolness and impartiality: the process and result of which I will lay before you, in as few words as I am able. {TO_LENTULUS|AD_FAM_I_IX ^paragraph 5} There have been times, as experience no less than history has taught me, when the power of the commonwealth was in worthless and wicked hands. In such a conjuncture, no hope of interest (which I have at all times most heartily contemned) nor fear of danger (which, upon some occasions, however, has influenced the greatest minds) should prevail with me to co-operate in their measures: no not though I were attached to them by the strongest ties of friendship and gratitude. But when a man of Pompey's distinguished character presides over the republic; a man who has acquired that eminence of power and honour by the most heroic actions, and the most signal services; I could not imagine it would be imputed to me as a levity of disposition, if in some few instances I declined a little from my general maxims, and complied with his inclinations. But my justification, I thought, would still rise in strength, when it should be remembered that I favoured his credit and dignity even from the earliest part of my life; as I particularly promoted them in my praetorship and consulate: when it should be remembered, that he not only assisted me with his vote and his influence in the senate during my adversity, but joined his counsels and his efforts with yours, for the same generous purpose: in a word, when it should be remembered, that he has no other enemy in the whole commonwealth, except the man who is my professed adversary. In consequence of these sentiments, it was absolutely necessary for me, you see, to unite with Caesar, as one who was joined in the same views and the same interest. His friendship likewise, which, you are sensible, my brother and I have long shared, together with his humane and generous disposition which I have abundantly experienced both by his late letters and his good offices towards me, contributed greatly to confirm me in these resolutions. To which I must add, that the commonwealth in general seemed to be most strongly averse from giving any opposition to these extraordinary men: more especially after Caesar had performed such great and glorious exploits for the honour of his country. But what had still a farther and very powerful weight in my deliberations, was Pompey's having engaged his word for me to Caesar, as my brother had given the same assurances to Pompey. Plato, I remembered, lays it down as a maxim in his divine writings, that "the people generally model their manners and their sentiments by those of the great:" a maxim which at this juncture, I thought, merited my particular attention. I was convinced indeed of its truth, when I reflected on the vigorous resolutions which were taken in the senate, on the memorable Nones of December: and it seemed no wonder so noble a spirit should appear in that assembly, after the animating example I had given them upon my first entering on the consular office. I reflected also, that during the whole time which intervened between the expiration of my consulship, and that of Caesar and Bibulus, when I still retained a very considerable authority in the senate, all the better part of the republic were united in their sentiments. On the other hand, about the time you took possession of your government in Spain, the commonwealth could not so properly be said to be under the administration of consuls, as of infamous barterers of provinces, and the mean vassals and ministers of sedition. It was then that discord and faction spread through all ranks amongst us: and I was marked out as the victim of party rage. In this critical season, however, not only every man of worth, but the greater part of the senators, and indeed all Italy in general, rose up with remarkable unanimity in my cause. What the event proved, I forebear to mention: as in truth it is to be imputed to a complication of errors and artifices. But this I will say, it was not forces, so much as leaders to conduct them, that were wanting to me at this crisis. I must add, that whatever censure may justly fall on those who refused me their assistance; most certainly they who first promised it and then deserted me, are not less to be blamed. In a word, if some of my friends may well be reproached for the timid, though sincere, counsels they gave me; how much more severe must their condemnation prove, who artfully alarmed me with their pretended fears? Let it be noted at the same time to my honour, that zealous as my fellow-citizens showed themselves to rise up in the defence of a man who had formerly stood forth in theirs; yet I would not suffer them to be exposed (unsupported as they were by those who ought to have been their protectors) to the barbarous insults of a lawless banditti. On the contrary, I rather chose the world should judge by the power of my friends in recalling me from my exile, what their honest unanimity could have effected, had I permitted them to have drawn their swords to prevent it. You were sensible of this general zeal in my favour, when you undertook my cause: and you not only encouraged, but confirmed it, by your influence and authority. I shall always most willingly acknowledge, that you were assisted upon this occasion by some of the most considerable persons in Rome; who, it must be owned, exerted themselves with much greater vigour in procuring my return, than in preventing my banishment. And had they persisted in the same resolute disposition, they might have recovered their own authority at the same time that they obtained my restoration. The spirits, in truth, of the aristocratical part of the republic were at this juncture greatly raised and animated, by the inflexible patriotism of your conduct during your consulship, together with Pompey's concurrence in the same measures. Caesar likewise, when he saw the senate distinguishing his glorious actions by the most singular and unprecedented honours, joined in adding weight to the authority of that assembly. Had these happy circumstances therefore been rightly improved, it would have been impossible for any ill-designing citizen, to have violated the laws and liberties of the commonwealth. But let me entreat you to reflect a moment on the subsequent conduct of my political associates. In the first place, they screened from punishment that infamous intruder on the matron-mysteries, who showed no more reverence for the awful ceremonies of the goddess in whose honour these sacred solemnities are celebrated, than for the chastity of his three sisters. And thus by preventing a worthy tribune of the people from obtaining that justice upon Clodius which he endeavoured to procure, they deprived future times of a most salutary example of chastised sedition. Did not they suffer likewise that monument, that glorious monument, which was erected, not indeed with the spoils I had gained in foreign wars, but by the generosity of the senate for my civil services; did they not most shamefully suffer it to be inscribed with the name of the cruel and avowed enemy of his country? Obliged, most certainly, I am to them for having restored me to the commonwealth: but I could wish they had conducted themselves, not only like physicians whose views terminate merely in the health of their patients, but like the Aliptae also who endeavour to establish the spirits and vigour of those under their care. Whereas they have acted with regard to me, as Apelles did in relation to his celebrated picture of Venus: they have finished one part of their work with great skill and accuracy, but left all the rest a mere rude and imperfect sketch. In one article, however, I had the satisfaction to disappoint my enemies. They imagined my banishment would have wrought the same effect on me, which they falsely supposed a calamity of a like kind produced formerly in Quintus Metellus. This excellent person (whom I look upon to have been a man of the greatest fortitude and magnanimity of any in his times) they represented as broken and dispirited after his return from exile. But if broken he really were, it could not be the effect of his adversity: as it is certain he submitted to his sentence without the least reluctance, and lived under it, not only with indifference, but with cheerfulness. The truth is, no man ever equalled him in the strength and heroism of his mind; no, not even the celebrated Marcus Scaurus. Nevertheless, such as they had heard, or at least chose to imagine Metellus to have been, they figured me to themselves: or, if possible indeed, even yet more abject. The reverse, however, proved to be the case: and that general concern which the whole republic expressed at my absence, inspired me with more vigorous spirits than I had ever before enjoyed. The fact is, that the sentence of banishment against Metellus was repealed by a law proposed only by a single tribune of the people: whereas I was recalled from mine upon the motion of the consul himself, and by a law in which every magistrate of Rome concurred. Let me add likewise, that each order and degree in the commonwealth, headed by the senate, and supported by all Italy, zealously united in one common effort for recovering me to my country. Yet high as these unexampled honours were, they have never elated my heart with pride, or tempted me to assume an air which could give just offence even to the most malevolent of my enemies. The whole of my ambition is, not to be wanting either in advice or assistance to my friends; or even to those whom I have no great reason to rank in that number. It is this, perhaps, which has given the real ground of complaint to those who view only the lustre of my actions, but cannot be sensible of the pains and solicitude they cost me. But whatever the true cause may be, the pretended one is, my having promoted the honours of Caesar: a circumstance which they interpret, it seems, as a renunciation of my old maxims. The genuine motives however of my conduct in this instance are, not only what I just before mentioned, but particularly what I hinted in the beginning of my letter, and will now more fully explain. You will not find then, my friend, the aristocratical part of the republic disposed to pursue the same system as when you left them. That system, I mean, which I endeavoured to establish when I was consul, and which, though afterwards occasionally interrupted, and at length entirely overthrown, was again fully restored during your administration. It is now however totally abandoned by those who ought most strenuously to have supported it. I do not assert this upon the credit only of appearances, in which it is exceedingly easy to dissemble: I speak it upon the unquestionable evidence of facts, and the public proceedings of those who were styled patriots in my consulate. The general scheme of politics therefore being thus changed, it is time, most certainly, for every man of prudence (in which number I have the ambition to be justly accounted) to vary likewise his particular plan. Accordingly, that chief and favourite guide of my principles whom I have already quoted, the divine Plato himself advises, not to press any political point farther than is consonant with the general sense of the community: for methods of violence, he maintains, are no more to be used towards one's country, than one's parent. Upon this maxim, he tells us, he declined engaging in public affairs: and as he found the people of Athens confirmed by long habit in their mistaken notions of government, he did not think it lawful to attempt by force, what he despaired of effecting by persuasion. My situation, however, is in this respect different from Plato's: for on the one hand, as I have already embarked in public affairs, it is too late to deliberate whether I should now enter upon them or not: so on the other, the Roman people are by no means so incapable of judging of their true interest as he represents the Athenians. It is my happiness, indeed, to be able by the same measures to consult at once both my own and my country's welfare. To these considerations I must add those uncommon acts of generosity, which Caesar has exerted both towards my brother and myself: so much indeed beyond all example, that even whatever had been his success, I should have thought it incumbent upon me, at least to have defended him. But now, distinguished as he is by such a wonderful series of prosperity, and crowned with so many glorious victories, I cannot but esteem it a duty which I owe the republic, abstracted from all personal obligations to himself, to promote his honours as far as lies in my power. And believe me, it is at once my confession and my glory, that next to you, together with the other generous authors of my restoration, there is not a man in the world from whom I have received such amicable offices. {TO_LENTULUS|AD_FAM_I_IX ^paragraph 10} And now, having laid before you the principal motives of my conduct in general, I shall be the better able to satisfy you concerning my behaviour with respect to Crassus and Vatinius in particular: for as to Appius and Caesar, I have the pleasure to find that you acquit me of all reproach. My reconciliation then with Vatinius was effected by the mediation of Pompey, soon after the former was elected Praetor. I must confess, when he petitioned to be admitted a candidate for that office, I very warmly opposed him in the senate: but it was much less from my resentment to the man himself, than in order to support the honour and interest of Cato. Soon after this, he was impeached: and it was in compliance with the earnest solicitation of Caesar, that I undertook his defence. But you must not inquire why I appeared at this trial, or indeed at any other of the same kind, as a witness in favour of the accused: lest I should hereafter have an opportunity of retorting the question upon you. Though to say truth, I may fairly ask it even now: for do you not remember, my friend, in whose behalf it was that you formerly transmitted certain honourable testimonials even from the utmost limits of the Roman Empire? You need not scruple, however, to acknowledge the fact: for I have acted, and shall continue to act, the same part towards those very persons. But to return to Vatinius: besides the reasons I have already assigned, I was provoked to engage in his defence, by an opposition of the same sort which the parasite recommends to the amorous soldier in the play. The obsequious Gnatho, you know, advises his friend the captain whenever his mistress endeavours to pique his jealousy by mentioning his rival Phaedria, to play off Pamphila upon her in return. Thus, as I told the judges at this trial, since certain honourable persons who were formerly much in my interest had thought proper, by many little mortifying instances in the senate, to caress my avowed enemy before my face, I thought it but equitable to have a Clodius on my part, in opposition to the Clodius on theirs. Accordingly I have upon many occasions acted suitably to this declaration: and all the world acknowledges I have reason. Having thus explained my conduct with regard to Vatinius, I will now lay before you those motives which determined me in respect to Crassus. I was willing, for the sake of the common cause, to bury in oblivion the many and great injuries I had formerly received from him. Agreeably to this disposition, as we were then upon good terms, I should have borne his unexpected defence of Gabinius (whom he had very lately with so much warmth opposed) if he had avoided all personal reflections on myself. But when with the most unprovoked violence, he broke in upon me whilst I was in the midst of my speech; I must confess it raised my indignation: and perhaps I took fire so much the sooner, as possibly there still remained in my heart some latent sparks of my former resentment. However, my behaviour in the senate upon this occasion, was much and generally applauded. Among the rest, I was complimented likewise by the same men whom I have often hinted at in this letter; and who acknowledged I had rendered a very essential service to their cause, by that spirit which I had thus exerted. In short, they affected to speak of me in public, as being now indeed restored to the commonwealth in the best and most glorious sense. Nevertheless, they had the malice in their private conversations (as I was informed by persons of undoubted honour) to express singular satisfaction in the new variance that had thus happened between Crassus and myself: as they pleased themselves with imagining it would for ever throw me at a distance from those who were joined with him in the same interest. Pompey in the meantime employed incredible pains to close this breach: and Caesar also mentioned it in his letters, as an incident that gave him much concern. Upon these considerations therefore I thought it expedient to act agreeably both to the dictates of my natural temper, and to that experience which I had gained by my former misfortunes. In pursuance of these sentiments, I consented to a reconcilement: and in order to render it more conspicuous to the world, Crassus set out for his government almost from under my roof: for having invited himself to spend the preceding night with me, we supped together in the gardens of my son-in-law Crassipes. It was for these reasons that I thought my honour obliged me to defend his cause in the senate: and I confess I mentioned him with that high applause, of which, it seems, you have been informed. Thus I have given you a full detail of the several views and motives by which I am governed in the present conjuncture, as well as of the particular disposition in which I stand with respect to the slender part I can pretend to claim in the administration of public affairs. And, believe me, I should have judged and acted entirely in the same manner, had I been totally free from every sort of amicable bias. For, on the one hand, I should have esteemed it the most absurd folly to have attempted to oppose so superior a force; and on the other, supposing it possible, I should yet have deemed it imprudent to weaken the authority of persons so eminently and so justly distinguished in the commonwealth. Besides, it appears to me to be the dictates of sound policy, to act in accommodation to particular conjunctures, and not inflexibly pursue the same unalterable scheme, when public circumstances, together with the sentiments of the best and wisest members of the community, are evidently changed. In conformity to this notion, the most judicious reasoners on the great art of government have universally condemned an obstinate perseverance in one uniform tenor of measures. The skill of the pilot is shown in weathering the storm at least, though he should not gain his port: but if shifting his sails, and changing his direction will infallibly carry him with security into the intended harbour, would it not be an instance of most unreasonable tenaciousness to continue in the more hazardous course wherein he began his voyage? Thus (and it is a maxim I have often had occasion to inculcate) the point we ought all of us to keep in view in our administration of the commonwealth, is the final enjoyment of an honourable repose: but the method of securing to ourselves this dignity of retreat, is by having been invariable in our intentions for the public welfare, and not by a positive perseverance in certain favourite modes of obtaining it. To repeat therefore what I just now declared; had I been absolutely uninfluenced by every motive of friendship, I should still have pursued the same public measures in which I am now engaged. But when gratitude and resentment both conspire in recommending this scheme of action to me, I cannot hesitate a moment in adopting it, especially since it appears most conducive to the interests of the republic in general, as well as to my own in particular. To speak freely, I act upon this principle so much the more frequently, and with the less reserve, not only as my brother is Lieutenant under Caesar, but as the latter receives the slightest action or even word of mine in his favour, with an air that evidently shows he considers them as obligations of the most sensible kind. And, in fact, I derive the same benefit from that popularity and power which you know he possesses, as if they were so many advantages of my own. The sum of the whole in short is this: I imagined that I had no other method of counteracting those perfidious designs with which a certain party were secretly contriving to undermine me, than by thus uniting the friendship and protection of the men in power, with those internal aids which have never yet been wanting to my support. I am well persuaded, had you been in Rome, you would have concurred with me in these sentiments. I know, indeed, the candour and moderation of your temper; and I know, too, that your heart not only glows with friendship towards me, but is wholly untainted with malevolence towards others: in a word, I know that as you possess every sublime and generous affection, you are incapable of anything so mean as artifice and disguise. Nevertheless, even this elevated disposition has not secured you from the same unprovoked malice, which I have experienced in my own affairs. I doubt not, therefore, if you had been an actor in this scene, the same motives would have swayed your conduct, which have governed mine. But however that may be, I shall most certainly submit all my actions to your guidance and advice, whenever I shall again enjoy your company: and I am sure you will not be less attentive to the preservation of my honour, than you formerly were to that of my person. Of this at least you may be persuaded, that you will find me a faithful friend and associate in all your counsels and measures: as it will be the first and daily purpose of my life, to supply you with additional and more powerful reasons for rejoicing in those obligations you have conferred upon me. {TO_LENTULUS|AD_FAM_I_IX ^paragraph 15} As you desire me to send you those compositions which I have written since you left Rome, I shall deliver some orations into the hands of Menocrates for that purpose. However, not to alarm you, their number is but inconsiderable; for I withdraw as much as possible from the contention of the Bar, in order to join those more gentle muses which were always my delight, and are particularly so at this juncture. Accordingly I have drawn up three dialogues upon oratory, wherein I have endeavoured to imitate the manner of Aristotle. I trust they will not prove altogether useless to your son, as I have rejected the modern precepts of rhetoric, and adopted the ancient Aristotelian and Isocratic rules. To this catalogue of my writings I must also add an historical poem which I have lately composed in three cantos, upon the subject of my banishment; and as a lasting memorial likewise of your friendship and my gratitude. This I should long since have transmitted to you, had it been my immediate intention to make it public. But I am discouraged from this design at present, not indeed as fearing the resentment of those who may imagine themselves the objects of my satire (for in this respect I have been extremely tender), but as finding it impossible to make particular mention of every one from whom I received obligations at that season. However, when I shall meet with a proper opportunity, I will send it to you; submitting my writings as well as my actions entirely to your judgment. I know indeed these literary meditations have ever been the favourite employment of your thoughts no less than of mine. Your family concerns which you recommend to me, are so much a part of my own, that I am sorry you should think it necessary even to remind me of them. I could not therefore read your solicitations for that purpose, without some uneasiness. I find you were prevented by an indisposition from going the last summer into Cilicia; which was the occasion, it seems, of your not settling my brother's affairs in that province. However you give me assurance that you will now take all possible methods of adjusting them. You cannot indeed oblige him more: and he will think himself as much indebted to you for procuring him this additional farm, as if you had settled him in the possession of his patrimony. In the meantime, I entreat you to inform me frequently and freely of all your affairs, and particularly give me an account of the studies and exercises in which your son is engaged. For be well persuaded, never friend was more agreeable or more endeared to another, than you are to me: and of this truth I hope to render not only you, but all the world, and even posterity itself, thoroughly sensible. Appius has lately declared in the senate (what he had before indeed often intimated in conversation) that if he could get his proconsular commission confirmed in an assembly of the Curiae he would cast lots with his colleague for the particular province to which they should respectively succeed: if not, that by an amicable agreement between themselves he had resolved upon yours. He added, that in the case of a consul it was not absolutely necessary, though perhaps it might be expedient, to procure a law of this kind: and as a government had been appointed him by a decree of the senate, he was entitled, he said, in consequence of the Cornelian law, to a military command, till the time of his entrance into Rome. I know not what accounts you may have received of this matter from your other friends: but I find the sentiments of the world are much divided. Some are of opinion, that you are not obliged to resign your government, if your successor should not be authorised by an assembly of the Curiae: whilst others maintain, that notwithstanding you should think proper to leave the province, you may nevertheless depute a person to preside in your absence. As to myself, I am not altogether so clear with respect to the law in question: though I must own at the same time, that my doubts are by no means considerable. Of this however I am perfectly sure, that it is agreeable to your honour, and to that generosity of conduct in which I know you place your highest gratification, quietly to yield up your province to your successor; especially as you cannot in this instance oppose his ambitious views without incurring the suspicion of being influenced by the same motives yourself. But be that as it will, I thought it incumbent upon me to inform you of my sentiments: as I shall certainly defend yours, which ever way they may determine you to act. After I had finished my letter, I received your last concerning the farmers of the revenues. Your decision appears to me, I must own, perfectly equitable; yet at the same time, I cannot but wish you might be so happy as not to disgust a body of men, whose interest you have hitherto always favoured. However, you may be assured I shall support the decrees you have made upon this occasion: though you know well the temper and disposition of these people, and what formidable enemies they proved to the excellent Quintus Scaevola. I would recommend it to you therefore, if possible, to recover their good graces, or at least to soften them. The task, I confess, is difficult: but prudence, I think, requires you should use your best endeavours for that purpose. Farewell. {TO_LENTULUS|AD_FAM_I_IX ^paragraph 20} - [Dec. 54 B.C.] {TO_TIRO|AD_FAM_XVI_XI TO TIRO (Ad Fam. XVI. xi) - NOTWITHSTANDING that I feel the want of your services, in every place and upon all occasions; yet, be assured, your illness gives me far less concern on my own account, than on yours. However, since it has terminated, as Curius informs me, in a quartan ague; I hope, if you are not wanting in proper care, that it will prove a means of more firmly establishing your health. Be so just then to the regard you owe me, as not to suffer any other concern to employ your thoughts but what relates to your recovery. I am sensible, at the same time, how much you suffer from this absence: but believe me, all will be well, whenever you are so. I would by no means therefore have you in so much haste to return to me, as to expose yourself to the dangers of a winter-voyage; nor indeed to the dangers of a sea-sickness, before you shall have sufficiently recovered your strength. I arrived in the suburbs of Rome on the fourth of January: and nothing could be more to my honour, than the manner in which I was met on my approach to the city. But I am unhappily fallen into the very midst of public dissension, or rather indeed, I find myself surrounded with the flames of a civil war. It was my earnest desire to have composed these dangerous ferments: and I probably might, if the passions of some in both parties, who are equally eager for war, had not rendered my endeavours ineffectual. My friend Caesar had written a very warm and menacing letter to the senate. He had the boldness, notwithstanding their express prohibition, to continue at the head of his army and in the government of his province: to which very extraordinary measures he had been instigated by Curio. The latter, in conjunction with Quintus Cassius and Mark Antony, without the least violence having been offered to them, have withdrawn themselves to Caesar. They took this step immediately after the senate had given it in charge to the consuls, the praetors, and the tribunes of the people, together with those of us who are invested with proconsular power, to take care of the interests of the republic. And never, in truth, were our liberties in more imminent danger: as those who are disaffected to the commonwealth never were headed by a chief more capable, or better prepared to support them. We are raising forces with all possible diligence, under the authority and with the assistance of Pompey: who now begins, somewhat too late I fear, to be apprehensive of Caesar's power. In the midst however of these alarming commotions, the senate demanded, in a very full house, that a triumph should be immediately decreed to me. But the consul Lentulus, in order to appropriate to himself a greater share in conferring this honour, told them, that he would propose it himself in proper form, as soon as he should have dispatched the affairs that were necessary in the present conjuncture. In the meantime, I act with great moderation: and this conduct renders my influence with both parties so much the stronger. The several districts of Italy are assigned to our respective protections: and Capua is the department I have taken for mine. I thought it proper to give you this general information of public affairs: to which I will only add my request, that you would take care of your health, and write to me by every opportunity. Again and again I bid you farewell. - {TO_TIRO|AD_FAM_XVI_XI ^paragraph 5} Jan. 12th, [49 B.C.]. {TO_TERENTIA|AD_FAM_XIV_XIV TO TERENTIA AND TO TULLIA (Ad Fam. XIV. xiv) - IN what manner it may be proper to dispose of yourselves during the present conjuncture, is a question which must now be decided by your own judgements as much as by mine. Should Caesar advance to Rome without committing hostilities, you may certainly, for the present at least, remain there unmolested: but if this madman should give up the city to the rapine of his soldiers, I much doubt whether even Dolabella's credit and authority will be sufficient to protect you. I am under some apprehension likewise, lest whilst you are deliberating in what manner to act, you should find yourselves so surrounded with the army as to render it impossible to withdraw, though you should be never so much inclined. The next question is (and it is a question which you yourselves are best able to determine) whether any ladies of your rank venture to continue in the city: if not, will it be consistent with your character to appear singular in that point? But be that as it will, you cannot, I think, as affairs are now situated, be more commodiously placed, than either with me or at some of our farms in this district: supposing, I mean, that I should be able to maintain my present post. I must add likewise, that a short time, 'tis to be feared, will produce a great scarcity in Rome. However, I should be glad you would take the sentiments of Atticus, or Camillus, or any other friend whom you may choose to consult upon this subject. In the meanwhile let me conjure you both to keep up your spirits. The coming over of Labienus to our party, has given affairs a much better aspect. And Piso having withdrawn himself from the city, is likewise another very favourable circumstance: as it is a plain indication, that he disapproves the impious measures of his son-in-law. I entreat you, my dearest creatures, to write to me as frequently as possible, and let me know how it is with you, as well as what is going forward in Rome. My brother and nephew, together with Rufus, affectionately salute you. Farewell. - {TO_TERENTIA|AD_FAM_XIV_XIV ^paragraph 5} MINTURNAE, Jan. 25th, [49 B.C.]. {TO_TIRO|AD_FAM_XVI_XII TO TIRO (Ad Fam. XVI. xii) - YOU will easily judge of our distress when I tell you, that myself and every friend of the republic have abandoned Rome, and even our country, to all the cruel devastations of fire and sword. Our affairs indeed are in so desperate a situation, that nothing less than the powerful interposition of some favourable divinity, or some happy turn of chance, can secure us from utter ruin. It has been the perpetual purpose of all my speeches, my votes, and my actions, ever since I returned to Rome, to preserve the public tranquillity. But an invincible rage for war had unaccountably seized not only the enemies, but even those who are esteemed the friends of the commonwealth: and it was in vain I remonstrated, that nothing was more to be dreaded than a civil war. Caesar, in the meantime, unmindful of his former character and honours, and driven, if should seem, by a sort of phrenzy, has taken possession of Ariminum, Pisaurum, Ancona, and Arretum. In consequence of this, we have all deserted the city: but how prudently, or how heroically, it now avails not to examine. Thus you see our wretched situation! Caesar, however, has offered us the following conditions: in the first place, that Pompey shall retire to his government in Spain; in the next, that the army we have raised shall be disbanded, and our garrisons evacuated. Upon these terms he promises to deliver up the farther Gaul into the hands of Domitius, and the nearer into those of Considius Nonianus, the persons to whom these provinces have been respectively allotted. He farther engages to resign his right of suing for the consulship in his absence, and is willing to return to Rome in order to appear as a candidate in the regular form. We have accepted these propositions, provided he withdraws his forces from the several towns above mentioned, that the senate may securely assemble themselves at Rome in order to pass a decree for that purpose. If he should think proper to comply with this proposal, there are hopes of peace; not indeed of a very honourable one, as the terms are imposed upon us: yet anything is preferable to our present circumstances. But if he should refuse to stand to his overtures, we are prepared for an engagement: but an engagement which Caesar, after having incurred the general odium of retracting his own conditions, will scarce be able to sustain. The only difficulty will be, to intercept his march to Rome. And this we have a prospect of effecting, as we have raised a very considerable body of troops: and we imagine that he will scarce venture to advance, lest he should lose the two Gauls; every part of those provinces, excepting only the Transpadani, being utterly averse to him. There are likewise six of our legions from Spain, commanded by Afranius and Petreius, and supported by a very powerful body of auxiliaries, that lie in his rear. In short, if he should be so mad as to approach, there is great probability of his being defeated, if we can but preserve Rome from falling into his hands. It has given a very considerable blow to his cause, that Labienus, who had great credit in his army, refused to be an associate with him in his impious enterprise. This illustrious person has not only deserted Caesar, but joined himself with us: and it is said, that many others of the same party intend to follow his example. I have still under my protection all the coast that extends itself from Formiae. I did not choose to enter more deeply at present into the opposition against Caesar, that my exhortations, in order to engage him to an accommodation, might be attended with the greater weight. If war, however, must, after all, be our lot, it will be impossible for me, I perceive, to decline the command of some part of our forces. To this uneasy reflection, I must add another: my son-in-law Dolabella has taken party with Caesar. I was willing to give you this general information of public affairs: but suffer it not, I charge you, to make impressions upon your mind, to the disadvantage of your health. I have strongly recommended you to Aulus Varro, whose disposition to serve you, as well as whose particular friendship to myself, I have thoroughly experienced. I have entreated him to be careful both of your health and of your voyage, and, in a word, to receive you entirely under his protection. I have full confidence that he will comply with my request, as he gave me his promise for that purpose in the most obliging manner. As I could not enjoy the satisfaction of your company at a season when I most wanted your faithful services, I beg you would not now hasten your return, nor undertake your voyage either during the winter, or before you are perfectly recovered. For, be assured, I shall not think I see you too late, if I see you safe and well. I have heard nothing of you since the letter I received by Marcus Volusius: but indeed I do not wonder at it, as I imagine the severity of the winter has likewise prevented my letters from reaching your hands. Take care of yourself, I conjure you, and do not sail till your health and the season shall be favourable. My son is at Formiae: but Terentia and Tullia are still at Rome. Farewell. {TO_TIRO|AD_FAM_XVI_XII ^paragraph 5} - CAPUA, January 29th, [49 B.C.]. {TO_TERENTIA|AD_FAM_XIV_XIII TO TERENTIA (Ad Fam. XIV. xiii) - IN answer to what you object concerning the divorce I mentioned in my last, I can only say, that I am perfectly ignorant what power Dolabella may at this time possess, or what ferments there may be among the populace. However, if you think there is anything to be apprehended from his resentment, let the matter rest: and perhaps the first proposal may come from himself. Nevertheless I leave you to act as you shall judge proper; not doubting that you will take such measures in this most unfortunate affair, as shall appear to be attended with the fewest unhappy consequences. Farewell. - July 10th, [47 B.C.]. {TO_MARCUS_MARIUS|AD_FAM_VII_III TO MARCUS MARIUS (Ad Fam. VII. iii) - WHENEVER I reflect, as indeed I frequently do, on those public calamities we have thus long endured, and are still likely to endure, it always brings to my thoughts the last interview we had together. It made so strong an impression upon my mind, that I can name the very day: and I perfectly well remember it was on the 10th of May in the consulate of Lentulus and Marcellus, that upon my arrival at my Pompeian villa, I found you waiting for me with the most friendly solicitude. Your generous concern arose from a tenderness both for my honour and my safety; as the former, you feared, would be endangered if I continued in Italy; and the latter, if I went to Pompey. I was myself likewise, as you undoubtedly perceived, so greatly perplexed, as to be incapable of determining which of these measures was most advisable. However, I resolved to sacrifice all considerations of personal safety, to the dictates of my honour; and, accordingly, I joined Pompey in Greece. But I no sooner arrived in his army, than I had occasion to repent of my resolution: not so much from the danger to which I was myself exposed, as from the many capital faults I discovered among them. In the first place, Pompey's forces were neither very considerable in point of numbers, nor by any means composed of warlike troops: and in the next place (I speak however with exception of Pompey himself, and a few others of the principal leaders) they carried on the war with such a spirit of rapaciousness, and breathed such principles of cruelty in their conversation, that I could not think even upon our success without horror. To this I must add, that some of the most considerable officers were deeply involved in debt: and, in short, there was nothing good among them but their cause. Thus despairing of success, I advised (what indeed I had always recommended) that proposals of accommodation should be offered to Caesar: and when I found Pompey utterly averse to all measures of that kind, I endeavoured to persuade him at least to avoid a general engagement. This last advice he seemed sometimes inclined to follow: and probably would have followed, if a slight advantage which he soon afterwards gained, had not given him a confidence in his troops. From that moment all the skill and conduct of this great man seems to have utterly forsaken him; and he acted so little like a general, that, with a raw and unexperienced army, he imprudently gave battle to the most brave and martial legions. The consequence was, that he suffered a most shameful defeat: and abandoning his camp to Caesar, he was obliged to run away, unaccompanied even with a single attendant. This event determined me to lay down my arms; being persuaded, that if we could not prevail with our united forces, we should scarce have better success when they were broken and dispersed. I declined, therefore, to engage any farther in a war, the result of which must necessarily be attended with one or other of the following unhappy consequences: either to perish in the field of battle, to be taken prisoner by the conquerors, to be sacrificed by treachery, to have recourse to Juba, to live in a sort of voluntary exile, or to fall by one's own hand. Other choice most certainly there was none, if you would not, or durst not, trust to the clemency of the victor. Banishment, it must be owned, to a mind that had nothing to reproach itself with, would have been the most eligible of all these evils: especially under the reflection of being driven from a commonwealth, which presents nothing to our view but what we must behold with pain. Nevertheless, I chose to remain with my own; if anything now indeed can with propriety be called our own: a misfortune which, together with every other calamity that this fatal war has produced, I long since foretold. I returned therefore to Italy, not as to a situation perfectly desirable, but in order, if the republic should in any degree subsist, to enjoy somewhat that had at least the semblance of our country; and if it were utterly destroyed, to live as if I were, to all essential purposes, in a real state of exile. But though I saw no reason that could justly induce me to be my own executioner, I saw many to be desirous of death. For it is an old and true maxim, that "life is not worth preserving, when a man is no longer what he once was." A blameless conscience, however, is undoubtedly a great consolation; especially as I can add to it the double support that arises to my mind, from a knowledge of the noblest sciences, and from the glory of my former actions: one of which can never be torn from me so long as I live; and of the other, even death itself has not the power to deprive me. I have troubled you with this minute detail, from a full persuasion of the tender regard you bear both to myself and to our country. I was desirous indeed to apprise you fully of the principles by which I have steered, that you might be sensible it was my first and principal aim, that no single arm should be more potent than the whole united commonwealth: and afterwards, when there was one, who by Pompey's mistaken conduct, had so firmly established his power as to render all resistance vain: that it was my next endeavour to preserve the public tranquillity. I was desirous you should know that after the loss of those troops and that general wherein all our hopes were centred, I attempted to procure a total cessation of arms; and when this advice proved ineffectual, that I determined at least to lay down my own. In a word, I was desirous you should know, that if our liberties still remain, I also am still a citizen of the republic: if not, that I am no less an exile, nor more conveniently situated, than if I had banished myself to Rhodes or Mitylene. I should have been glad to have said this to you in person: but as I was not likely to meet with an opportunity for that purpose so soon as I wished, I thought proper to take this earlier method of furnishing you with an answer, if you should fall in the way of those who are disposed to arraign my conduct. For notwithstanding that my death could in no sort have availed the republic, yet I stand condemned, it seems, by some, for not sacrificing my life in its cause. But they are those only, I am well assured, who have the cruelty to think, that there has not been blood enough spilt already. If my advice, however, had been followed, those who have perished in this war, might have preserved their lives with honour, though they had accepted of peace upon ever so unreasonable conditions. For they would still have had the better cause, though their enemies had the stronger swords. And now, perhaps, I have quite tired your patience: I shall think so at least, if you do not send me a longer letter in return. I will only add, that if I can dispatch some affairs which I am desirous of finishing, I hope to be with you very shortly. Farewell. {TO_MARCUS_MARIUS|AD_FAM_VII_III ^paragraph 5} - [46 B.C.] {TO_PAPIRIUS_PAETUS|AD_FAM_IX_XVI TO PAPIRIUS PAETUS (Ad Fam. IX. xvi) - YOUR letter afforded me a very agreeable instance of your friendship, in the concern it expressed lest I should be uneasy at the report which had been brought hither by Silius. I was before indeed perfectly sensible how much you were disturbed at this circumstance, by your care in sending me duplicates of a former letter upon the same subject: and I then returned such an answer as I thought would be sufficient to abate at least, if not entirely remove, this your generous solicitude. But since I perceive, by your last letter, how much this affair still dwells upon your mind, let me assure you, my dear Paetus, that I have employed every artifice (for we must now, my friend, be armed with cunning as well as prudence) to conciliate the good graces of the persons you mention: and if I mistake not, my endeavours have not proved in vain. I receive indeed so many marks of respect and esteem from those who are most in Caesar's favour, that I cannot but flatter myself they have a true regard for me. It must be confessed, at the same time, that a pretended affection is not easily discernible from a real one, unless in seasons of distress. For adversity is to friendship, what fire is to gold, the only infallible test to discover the genuine from the counterfeit: in all other circumstances they both bear the same common signatures. I have one strong reason however to persuade me of their sincerity: as neither their situation nor mine can by any means tempt them to dissemble with me. As to that person in whom all power is now centred, I am not sensible that I have anything to fear from him: or nothing more at least, than what arises from that general precarious state in which all things must stand where the fence of laws is broken down; and from its being impossible to pronounce with assurance concerning any event which depends wholly upon the will, not to say the caprice, of another. But this I can with confidence affirm, that I have not in any single instance given him just occasion to take offence: and in the article you point out, I have been particularly cautious. There was a time, 'tis true, when I thought it well became me, by whom Rome itself was free, to speak my sentiments with freedom; but now that our liberties are no more, I deem it equally agreeable to my present situation, not to say anything that may disgust either Caesar or his favourites. But were I to suppress every rising raillery, that might pique those at whom it is directed, I must renounce, you know, all my reputation as a wit. And in good earnest, it is a character upon which I do not set so high a value, as to be unwilling to resign it, if it were in my power. However, I am in no danger of suffering in Caesar's opinion, by being represented as the author of any sarcasms to which I have no claim: for his judgement is much too penetrating ever to be deceived by any imposition of this nature. I remember your brother Servius, whom I look upon to have been one of the most learned critics that this age has produced, was so conversant in the writings of our poets, and had acquired such an excellent and judicious ear, that he could immediately distinguish the numbers of Plautus from those of any other author. Thus Caesar, I am told, when he made his large collection of apophthegms, constantly rejected any piece of wit that was brought to him as mine, if it happened to be spurious: a distinction which he is much more able to make at present, as his particular friends pass almost every day of their lives in my company. As our conversation generally turns upon a variety of subjects, I frequently strike out thoughts which they look upon as not altogether void, perhaps, of spirit or ingenuity. Now these little sallies of pleasantry, together with the general occurrences of Rome, are constantly transmitted to Caesar, in pursuance of his own express directions: so that if anything of this kind is mentioned by others as coming from me, he always disregards it. You see, then, that the lines you quote with so much propriety from the tragedy of Oenomaus, contain a caution altogether unnecessary. For tell me, my friend, what jealousies can I possibly create? Or who will look with envy upon a man in my humble situation? But granting that I were in ever so enviable a state; yet let me observe, that it is the opinion of those philosophers, who alone seem to have understood the true nature of virtue, that a good man is answerable for nothing farther than his own innocence. Now in this respect I think myself doubly irreproachable: in the first place, by having recommended such public measures as were for the interest of the commonwealth; and in the next, that finding I was not sufficiently supported to render my counsels effectual, I did not deem it advisable to contend for them by arms against a superior strength. Most certainly therefore I cannot justly be accused of having failed in the duty of a good citizen. The only part then that now remains for me, is to be cautious not to expose myself, by any indiscreet word or action, to the resentment of those in power: a part which I hold likewise to be agreeable to the character of true wisdom. As to the rest; what liberties any man may take in imputing words to me which I never spoke; what credit Caesar may give to such reports; and how far those who court my friendship, are really sincere: these are points for which it is by no means in my power to be answerable. My tranquillity arises therefore from the conscious integrity of my counsels in the times that are past, and from the moderation of my conduct in these that are present. Accordingly, I apply the simile you quote from Accius, not only to Envy, but to Fortune: that weak and inconstant power, whom every wise and resolute mind should resist with as much firmness as a rock repels the waves. Grecian story will abundantly supply examples of the greatest men, both at Athens and Syracuse, who have in some sort preserved their independency, amidst the general servitude of their respective communities. May I not hope then to be able so to comport myself under the same circumstances, as neither to give offence to our rulers, on the one hand, nor to injure the dignity of my character on the other? But to turn from the serious, to the jocose part of your letter.- The strain of pleasantry you break into, immediately after having quoted the tragedy of Oenomaus, puts me in mind of the modern method of introducing at the end of those graver dramatic pieces, the humour of our mimes, instead of the old Atellan farces. Why else, do you talk of your paltry polypus, and your mouldy cheese? In pure good-nature, 'tis true, I formerly submitted to sit down with you to such homely fare; but more refined company has improved me into a better taste. For Hirtius and Dolabella, let me tell you, are my preceptors in the science of the table: as in return, they are my disciples in that of the Bar. But I suppose you have already heard, at least, if all the town-news is transmitted to you, that they frequently declaim at my house, and that I as often sup at theirs. You must not however hope to escape my intended visit, by pleading poverty in bar to the admission of so luxurious a guest. Whilst you were raising a fortune indeed, I bore with your parsimonious humour: but now that you are in circumstances to support the loss of half your wealth, I expect that you receive me in another manner than you would one of your compounding debtors. And though your finances may somewhat suffer by my visit; remember it is better they should be impaired by treating a friend, than by lending to a stranger. I do not insist however that you spread your table with so unbounded a profusion, as to furnish out a splendid treat with the remains: I am so wonderfully moderate, as to desire nothing more than what is perfectly elegant and exquisite in its kind. I remember to have heard you describe an entertainment, which was given by Phameas. Let yours be the exact copy of his: only I should be glad not to wait for it quite so long. Should you still persist, after all, to invite me, as usual, to a penurious supper, dished out by the sparing hand of maternal oeconomy; even this, perhaps, I may be able to support. But I would fain see that hero bold who should dare to set before me the villainous trash you mention; or even one of your boasted polypuses, with an hue as florid as vermilioned Jove. Take my word for it, my friend, your prudence will not suffer you to be thus adventurous. Fame, no doubt, will have proclaimed at your villa my late conversion to luxury, long before my arrival: and you will shiver at the sound of her tremendous report. Nor must you flatter yourself with the hope of abating the edge of my appetite by your cloying sweet-wines before supper: a silly custom which I have now entirely renounced; being much wiser than when I used to damp my stomach with your antepasts of olives and Leucanian sausages.- But not to run on any longer in this jocose strain; my only serious wish is, that I may be able to make you a visit. You may compose your countenance, therefore, and return to your mouldy cheese in full security: for my being your guest will occasion you, as usual, no other expense than that of heating your baths. As for all the rest, you are to look upon it as mere pleasantry. The trouble you have given yourself about Selicius's villa, is extremely obliging: as your description of it was excessively droll. I believe therefore from the account you give me, I shall renounce all thoughts of making that purchase: for though the country, it seems, abounds in salt, the neighbourhood, I find, is but insipid. Farewell. - {TO_PAPIRIUS_PAETUS|AD_FAM_IX_XVI ^paragraph 5} [46 B.C.] {TO_VOLUMNIUS|AD_FAM_VII_XXXIII TO VOLUMNIUS (Ad Fam. VII. xxxiii) - YOU have little reason, believe me, to regret the not being present at my declamations: and if you should really envy Hirtius, as you assure me you should if you did not love him, it must be much more for his own eloquence, than as he is an auditor of mine. In truth, my dear Volumnius, either I am utterly void of all genius, or incapable of exercising it to my satisfaction, now that I have lost those illustrious fellow-labourers at the Bar that fired me with emulation when I used to gain your judicious applause. If ever, indeed, I displayed the powers of eloquence with advantage to my reputation, let me send a sigh when I reflect, with the fallen Philoctetes in the play, that - These potent shafts, the heroes wonted dread Now spend on meaner war their idle force; {TO_VOLUMNIUS|AD_FAM_VII_XXXIII ^paragraph 5} Aim'd at the wing'd inhabitants of air! - However, if you will give me your company here, my spirits will be more enlivened: though I need not add, that you will find me engaged in a multitude of very important occupations. But if I can once get to the end of them (as I most earnestly wish) I shall bid a long farewell both to the forum and the senate, and chiefly devote my time to you and some few others of our common friends. In this number are Cassius and Dolabella, who are united with us in the same favourite studies, and to whose performances I with great pleasure attend. But we want the assistance of your refined judgement, and of that uncommon erudition which has often struck me with awe when I have been delivering my sentiments before you. I have determined, then, if I should obtain the consent, or at least the permission of Caesar, to retire from that stage on which I have frequently performed a part that he himself has applauded. It is my resolution, indeed, totally to conceal myself in the secret shades of philosophy, where I hope to enjoy with you, and some others of the same contemplative disposition, the honourable fruits of a studious leisure. I am sorry you shortened your last letter in the apprehension that I should not have patience to read a longer. But assure yourself, for the future, that the longer yours are, the more acceptable they will always prove to me. Farewell. - {TO_VOLUMNIUS|AD_FAM_VII_XXXIII ^paragraph 10} [46 B.C.] {TO_PAPIRIUS_PAETUS|AD_FAM_IX_XVIII TO PAPIRIUS PAETUS (Ad Fam. IX. xviii) - YOUR very agreeable letter found me wholly disengaged at my Tusculan villa. I retired hither during the absence of my pupils, whom I have sent to meet their victorious friend, in order to conciliate his good graces in my favour. As Dionysius the tyrant, after he was expelled from Syracuse, opened a school, it is said, at Corinth; in the same manner, being driven from my dominions in the forum, I have erected a sort of academy in my own house: and I perceive, by your letter, that you approve the scheme. I have many reasons for approving it too, and principally as it affords me what is highly expedient in the present conjuncture, a mean of establishing an interest with those in whose friendship I may find a protection. How far my intentions in this respect may be answered, I know not: I can only say, that I have hitherto had no reason to prefer the different measures which others of the same party with myself have pursued; unless perhaps it would have been more eligible not to have survived the ruin of our cause. It would so, I confess, had I died either in the camp, or in the field: but the former did not happen to be my fate; and as to the latter, I never was engaged in any action. But the inglorious manner in which Pompey, together with Scipio, Afranius and your friend Lentulus, severally lost their lives, will scarcely, I suppose, be thought a more desirable lot. As to Cato's death; it must be acknowledged to have been truly noble: and I can still follow his example, whenever I shall be so disposed. Let me only endeavour, as in fact I do, not to be compelled to it by the same necessity: and this is my first reason for engaging in my present scheme. My next is, that I find it an advantage, not only to my health, which began to be impaired by the intermission of exercises of this kind, but also to my oratorical talents, if any I ever possessed: which would have totally lost their vigour, if I had not had recourse to this method of keeping them in play. The last benefit I shall mention (and the principal one, I dare say, in your estimation) is, that it has introduced me to the demolishing of a greater number of delicious peacocks, than you have had the devouring of paltry pigeons in all your life. The truth of it is, whilst you are humbly sipping the meagre broths of the sneaking Aterius, I am luxuriously regaling myself with the savoury soups of the magnificent Hirtius. If you have any spirit then, fly hither, and learn from our elegant bills of fare, how to refine your own: though to do your talents justice, this is a sort of knowledge in which you are much superior to our instructions. However, since you can get no purchasers for your mortgages, and are not likely to fill those pitchers you mention with denarii, it will be your wisest scheme to return hither: for it is a better thing, let me tell you, to be sick with good eating at Rome, than for want of victuals at Naples. In short, I plainly perceive that your finances are in no flourishing situation, and I expect to hear the same account of all your neighbours: so that famine, my friend, most formidable famine must be your fate, if you do not provide against it in due time. And since you have been reduced to sell your horse, e'en mount your mule (the only animal, it seems, belonging to you which you have not yet sacrificed to your table) and convey yourself immediately to Rome. To encourage you to do so, you shall be honoured with a chair and cushion next to mine; and sit the second great pedagogue in my celebrated school. Farewell. - [46 B.C.] {TO_PAPIRIUS_PAETUS|AD_FAM_IX_XVII TO PAPIRIUS PAETUS (Ad Fam. IX. xvii) - ARE you not a pleasant mortal to question me concerning the fate of those estates you mention, when Balbus had just before been paying you a visit? It is from him, indeed, that I derive my whole fund of intelligence: and you may be assured, that where he is ignorant, I have no chance of being better informed. I might with much more propriety desire you would tell me what is likely to be the fate of my own possessions, since you have so lately had a person under your roof, from whom, either in or out of his cups, you might certainly have discovered that secret. But this, my dear Paetus, is an article that makes no part of my inquiry; for, in the first place, I have reason to be well satisfied; having now almost these four years been indulged with my life; if life or indulgence it may be called, to be the sad survivor of our country's ruin. In the next place, I believe it is a question I may easily answer myself. For I know it will be just as it shall seem meet to the men in power: and the men in power, my friend, will ever be those whose swords are the most prevailing. I must rest contented therefore with whatever grace it shall be their pleasure to show me: for he who could not tamely submit to such wretched terms, ought to have taken refuge in the arms of death. Notwithstanding, therefore, that the estates about Veii and Capena are actually dividing out (and these, you know, are not far distant from Tusculum), yet it gives me no sort of disquietude. I enjoy my property whilst I may, and please myself with the hope that I shall never be deprived of that privilege. But should it happen otherwise, still however since it was my noble maxim (hero and philosopher as I was!) that life is the fairest of all possessions, I cannot, undoubtedly, but love the man by whose bounty I have obtained the continuance of that enjoyment. It is certain, at the same time, that how much soever he may be disposed perhaps to restore the republic (as we ought all of us most certainly to wish), yet he has entangled himself in such a variety of different connections, that he is utterly embarrassed in what manner to act. But this is going farther into these points than is necessary, considering the person to whom I am writing. Nevertheless I will add, that our chief himself is as absolutely ignorant what measures will finally be resolved upon, as I am who have no share in his councils. For Caesar is no less under the control of circumstances, than we are under the control of Caesar: and it is as much impossible for him to foresee what these may require, as it is for us to penetrate into what he may intend. You must not impute it to neglect (a fault, you are sensible, of which I am seldom guilty in the article of writing) that I have not said thus much to you before. The single reason for my not sooner answering your inquiry was, that as I could only speak from conjecture, I was unwilling, without a just foundation, either to increase your fears, or to encourage your hopes. But this I can with truth assure you, that I have not heard the least hint of the danger you apprehend. A man of your philosophy, however, ought to hope for the best, to be prepared for the worst, and to bear with equanimity whatever may happen. Farewell. - [46 B.C.] {TO_PAPIRIUS_PAETUS|AD_FAM_IX_XX TO PAPIRIUS PAETUS (Ad Fam. IX. xx) - YOUR letter gave me a double pleasure: for it not only diverted me extremely, but was a proof likewise that you are so well recovered as to be able to indulge your usual gaiety. I was well contented, at the same time, to find myself the subject of your raillery: and, in truth, the repeated provocations I had given you, were sufficient to call forth all the severity of your satire. My only regret is, that I am prevented from taking my intended journey into your part of the world, where I purposed to have made myself, I do not say your guest, but one of your family. You would have found me wonderfully changed from the man I formerly was, when you used to cram me with your cloying antepasts. For I now more prudently sit down to table with an appetite altogether unimpaired: and most heroically make my way through every dish that comes before me, from the egg that leads the van, to the roast veal that brings up the rear. The temperate and unexpensive guest whom you were wont to applaud, is now no more. I have bidden a total farewell to all the cares of the patriot; and have joined the professed enemies of my former principles: in short, I am become an absolute Epicurean. You are by no means however to consider me as a friend to that injudicious profusion, which is now the prevailing taste of our modern entertainments: on the contrary, it is that more elegant luxury I admire which you formerly used to display when your finances were more flourishing, though your farms were not more numerous than at present. Be prepared therefore for my reception accordingly: and remember you are to entertain a man who has not only a most enormous appetite, but, who has some little knowledge, let me tell you, in the science of elegant eating. You know there is a peculiar air of self-sufficiency, that generally distinguishes those who enter late into the study of any art. You will not wonder, therefore, when I take upon me to inform you, that you must banish your cakes and your sweetmeats, as articles that are now utterly discarded from all fashionable bills of fare. I am become indeed such a proficient in this science, that I frequently venture to invite to my table those refined friends of yours, the delicate Verrius and Camillus. Nay I am bolder still: and have presumed to give a supper even to Hirtius himself; though, I must own, I could not advance so far as to honour him with a peacock. To tell you the truth, my honest cook had not skill enough to imitate any other part of his splendid entertainments, except only his smoaking soups. But to give you a general sketch of my manner of life; I spend the first part of the morning in receiving the compliments of several both of our dejected patriots, and our gay victors: the latter of whom treat me with great marks of civility and esteem. As soon as that ceremony is over, I retire to my library: where I employ myself either with my books or my pen. And here I am sometimes surrounded by an audience, who look upon me as a man of most profound erudition, for no other reason, perhaps, than because I am not altogether so ignorant as themselves. The rest of my time I wholly devote to indulgencies of a less intellectual kind. I have sufficiently indeed paid the tribute of sorrow to my unhappy country: the miseries whereof I have longer and more bitterly lamented, than ever tender mother bewailed the loss of her only son. Let me desire you, as you would secure your magazine of provisions from falling into my hands, to take care of your health: for I have most unmercifully resolved that no pretence of indisposition shall preserve your larder from my depredations. Farewell. - {TO_PAPIRIUS_PAETUS|AD_FAM_IX_XX ^paragraph 5} [46 B.C.] {TO_DOLABELLA_CONSUL|AD_FAM_IX_XIV TO DOLABELLA CONSUL (Ad Fam. IX. xiv) - I DESIRE no greater satisfaction, my dear Dolabella, than what arises to me from the disinterested part I take in the glory you have lately acquired: however, I cannot but acknowledge, I am infinitely pleased to find, that the world gives me a share in the merit of your late applauded conduct. I daily meet in this place great numbers of the first rank in Rome, who are assembled here for the benefit of their health, as well as a multitude of my friends from the principal cities in Italy: and they all agree in joining their particular thanks to me, with those unbounded praises they bestow upon you. They every one of them indeed tell me, that they are persuaded it is owing to your compliance with my counsels and admonitions, that you approve yourself so excellent a patriot and so worthy a consul. I might with strict truth assure them, that you are much superior to the want of being advised by any man; and that your actions are the free and genuine result of your own uninfluenced judgement. But although I do not entirely acquiesce in their compliment, as it would lessen the credit of your conduct, if it should be supposed to flow altogether from my suggestions; yet neither do I wholly reject it: for the love of praise is a passion, which I am apt, you know, somewhat too immoderately to indulge. Yet after all, to take counsel of a Nestor, as it was an honour to the character even of that king of kings, Agamemnon himself, it cannot surely be unbecoming the dignity of yours. It is certainly, at least, much to the credit of mine, that while in this early period of your life, you are, thus exercising the supreme magistracy with universal admiration and applause, you are considered as directed by my guidance and formed by my instructions. I lately paid a visit to Lucius Caesar at Naples; and though I found him extremely indisposed, and full of pain in every part of his body, yet the moment I entered his chamber he raised himself with an air of transport, and without allowing himself time to salute me, "O my dear Cicero," said he, "I give you joy of your influence over Dolabella, and had I the same credit with my nephew, our country might now be preserved. But I not only congratulate your friend on his worthy conduct, but desire you would return him my particular acknowledgments: as indeed he is the single consul who has acted with true spirit, since you filled that office." He then proceeded to enlarge upon your late glorious action, representing it as equal to the most illustrious and important service that ever was rendered to the commonwealth. And in this he only echoed the general voice of the whole republic. Suffer me then to take possession of those encomiums to which I am by no means entitled, and in some sort to participate with you in that general applause you have acquired. To be serious, however (for you will not imagine that I make this request in good earnest), I would much rather resign to you the whole of my own glory (if there be any indeed I can justly claim) than arrogate to myself the least portion of that which is so unquestionably your due. For as you cannot but be sensible that I have ever loved you, so your late behaviour has raised that affection into the highest possible ardour: as in truth there cannot be anything more engagingly fair, more irresistibly amiable, than the patriot-virtues. I need not tell you how greatly the exalted talents and polite manners, together with the singular spirit and probity of Marcus Brutus, had ever endeared him to my heart. Nevertheless, his late glorious achievement on the ides of March, has wonderfully heightened that esteem I bore him: and which I had always looked upon as too exalted to admit of any farther advance. In the same manner, who would have imagined that my friendship towards yourself was capable of increase? yet it actually has increased so very considerably, that the former sentiments of my heart seem to have been nothing more than common affection, in comparison of that transcendent passion which I now feel for you. Can it be necessary that I should either exhort you to preserve the glory you have acquired, or agreeably to the usual style of admonition, set before your view some animating examples of illustrious merit? I could mention none for this purpose more forcibly than your own: and you have only to endeavour to act up to the character you have already attained. It is impossible indeed, after having performed so signal a service to your country, that you should ever deviate from yourself. Instead therefore of sending you any unnecessary exhortations, let me rather congratulate you upon this noble display of your patriotism. It is your privilege (and a privilege perhaps, which no one ever enjoyed before) to have exercised the severest acts of necessary justice, not only without incurring any odium, but with the greatest popularity: with the approbation of the lowest, as well as of the best and highest amongst us. If this were a circumstance in which chance had any share, I should congratulate your good fortune: but it was the effect of a noble and undaunted resolution, under the guidance of the strongest and most enlightened judgement. I say this, from having read the speech you made upon this occasion to the people; and never was any harangue more judiciously composed. You open and explain the fact with so much address, and gradually rise through the several circumstances in so artful a manner, as to convince all the world that the affair was mature for your animadversion. In a word, you have delivered the commonwealth in general, as well as the city of Rome in particular, from the dangers with which they were threatened: and not only performed a singular service to the present generation, but set forth a most useful example for times to come. You will consider yourself then, as the great support of the republic; and remember, she expects that you will not only protect, but distinguish those illustrious persons who have laid the foundation for the recovery of our liberties. But I hope soon to have an opportunity of expressing my sentiments to you more fully upon this subject in person. In the meanwhile, since you are thus our glorious guardian and preserver, I conjure you, my dear Dolabella, to take care of yourself for the sake of the whole commonwealth. Farewell. - {TO_DOLABELLA_CONSUL|AD_FAM_IX_XIV ^paragraph 5} [44 B.C.] {TO_CAIUS_CASSIUS|AD_FAM_XII_I TO CAIUS CASSIUS (Ad Fam. XII. i) - BELIEVE me, my Cassius, the republic is the perpetual subject of my meditations; or to express the same thing in other words, you and Marcus Brutus are never out of my thoughts. It is upon you two, indeed, together with Decimus Brutus, that all our hopes depend. Mine are somewhat raised by the glorious conduct of Dolabella, in suppressing the late insurrection: which had spread so wide, and gathered every day such additional strength, that it seemed to threaten destruction to the whole city. But this mob is now so totally quelled, that I think we have nothing farther to fear from any future attempt of the same kind. Many other fears, however, and very considerable ones too, still remain with us: and it entirely rests upon you, in conjunction with your illustrious associates, to remove them. Yet where to advise you to begin for that purpose, I must acknowledge myself at a loss. To say truth, it is the tyrant alone, and not the tyranny, from which we seem to be delivered: for although the man indeed is destroyed, we still servilely maintain all his despotic ordinances. We do more: and under the pretence of carrying his designs into execution, we approve of measures which even he himself would never have pursued. And the misfortune is, that I know not where this extravagance will end. When I reflect on the laws that are enacted, on the immunities that are granted, on the immense largesses that are distributed, on the exiles that are recalled, and on the fictitious decrees that are published, the only effect that seems to have been produced by Caesar's death is, that it has extinguished the sense of our servitude, and the abhorrence of that detestable usurper: as all the disorders into which he threw the republic still continue. These are the evils, therefore, which it is incumbent upon you and your patriot coadjutors to redress: for let not my friends imagine, that they have yet completed their work. The obligations, it is true, which the republic has already received from you, are far greater than I could have ventured to hope: still however her demands are not entirely satisfied; and she promises herself yet higher services from such brave and generous benefactors. You have revenged her injuries, by the death of her oppressor: but you have done nothing more. For tell me, what has she yet recovered of her former dignity and lustre? Does she not obey the will of that tyrant now he is dead, whom she could not endure when living? And do we not, instead of repealing his public laws, authenticate even his private memorandums? You will tell me, perhaps (and you may tell me with truth), that I concurred in passing a decree for that purpose. It was in compliance, however, with public circumstances: a regard to which is of much consequence in political deliberations of every kind. But there are some, however, who have most immoderately and ungratefully abused the concessions we found it thus necessary to make. I hope very speedily to discuss this and many other points with you in person. In the meantime be persuaded, that the affection I have ever borne to my country, as well as my particular friendship to yourself, renders the advancement of your credit and esteem with the public extremely my concern. Farewell. - [44 B.C.] {TO_CAIUS_CASSIUS|AD_FAM_XII_III TO CAIUS CASSIUS (Ad Fam. XII. iii) - THE malignant spirit of your friend breaks out every day with greater and more open violence. To instance, in the first place, the statue which he has lately erected near the rostrum, to Caesar, under which he has inscribed, TO THE EXCELLENT FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY; intimating, that you and your heroic associates are to be considered, not only as assassins, but parricides. In which number I am likewise included: for this outrageous man represents me as the principal adviser and promoter of your most glorious enterprise. Would to heaven the charge were true! for had I been a party in your councils, I should have put it out of his power thus to perplex and embarrass our affairs. But this was a point which depended upon yourselves to determine: and since the opportunity is now over, I can only wish that I were capable of giving you any effectual advice. But the truth is, I am utterly at a loss in what manner to act myself: for to what purpose is resistance, where one cannot oppose force by force? It is evidently the intent of Caesar's party to revenge his death. And accordingly Antony being on the 2nd of October last presented to the people by Canutius, mentioned the generous deliverers of our country in terms that traitors alone deserve. He scrupled not to assert likewise, that you had acted entirely by my advice; and that Canutius also was under the same influence. He had the mortification, however, to leave the rostrum with great disgrace. In a word, you may judge what are the designs of this faction by their having seized the appointments of your lieutenant: for does not their conduct in this instance sufficiently declare, that they considered this money as going to be remitted to a public enemy? Wretched condition indeed! that we who scorned to submit to a master, should more ignobly crouch to one of our fellow slaves! Nevertheless, I am still inclined to flatter myself, that we are not quite deprived of all hopes of being delivered by your heroic efforts. But where then, let me ask, are your troops? And with this question I will conclude my letter: as I had rather leave the rest to be suggested by your own reflections, than by mine. Farewell. - [44 B.C.] {TO_CAIUS_CASSIUS|AD_FAM_XII_IV TO CAIUS CASSIUS (Ad Fam. XII. iv) - OH, that you had invited me to that glorious feast you exhibited on the ides of March! Be assured I would have suffered none of it to have gone off untouched. Whereas the part you unhappily spared, occasions me, above all others, more trouble than you can well imagine. I must acknowledge at the same time, that we have two most excellent consuls: but as to those of consular rank, there is not one of them who does not merit the highest reproach. The senate in general, however, exert themselves with spirit: as the lower order of magistrates distinguish themselves by their singular resolution and zeal. In a word, it is impossible to show a better or more vigorous disposition than appears in the populace, not only of Rome, but throughout all Italy. But Philippus and Piso, on the contrary, whom the senate deputed with peremptory orders to Antony, have executed their commission in a manner that raises our highest indignation. For notwithstanding that Antony refused to comply with every single article of the senate's injunctions, yet these unworthy deputies had the meanness to charge themselves with bringing back the most insolent demands. This behaviour of theirs has occasioned all the world to have recourse to my assistance, and I am become extremely popular, in a way wherein popularity is seldom acquired: I mean by supporting a good cause. I am altogether ignorant in what part of the world you are at present, as well as of what schemes you are either executing or meditating. A report prevails that you are gone into Syria: but for this we have no certain authority. We can a little more depend upon the accounts we receive of Brutus, as his distance from us is less remote. It has been remarked here by men of some pleasantry, and much indignation against Dolabella, that he has shown himself in too great haste to be your successor: as he is most uncivilly set out to take possession of your government when you have enjoyed it scarce a single month. The case is clear therefore, say they, that Cassius should by no means give him admittance. But to be serious: both you and Brutus are mentioned with the highest applause: as it is generally supposed that each of you has drawn together an army far beyond our expectations.- I would add more, if I knew with certainty the situation of yourself and your affairs: but I hazard this letter merely upon the doubtful credit of common fame. It is with great impatience, therefore, that I wait for better intelligence from your own hand. Farewell. - {TO_CAIUS_CASSIUS|AD_FAM_XII_IV ^paragraph 5} [43 B.C.] {TO_TRIBONIUS|AD_FAM_X_XXVIII TO TRIBONIUS (Ad Fam. X. xxviii - WOULD to Heaven you had invited me to that noble feast which you made on the ides of March: no remnants, most assuredly, should have been left behind. Whereas the part you unluckily spared gives us so much perplexity, that we find something to regret, even in the godlike service which you and your illustrious associates have lately rendered to the republic. To say the truth, when I reflect that it is owing to the favour of so worthy a man as yourself, that Antony now lives to be our general bane, I am sometimes inclined to be a little angry with you for taking him aside when Caesar fell as by this mean you have occasioned more trouble to myself in particular, than to all the rest of the whole community. From the very first moment indeed that Antony's ignominious departure from Rome, had left the senate uncontrolled in its deliberations, I resumed the spirit which you and that inflexible patriot your father were wont to esteem and applaud. Accordingly, the tribunes of the people having summoned the senate to meet on the 20th of December, upon other matters, I seized that opportunity of taking the whole state of the republic into consideration: and more by the zeal than the eloquence of my speech, I revived the drooping spirits of that oppressed assembly, and awakened in them all their former vigour. It was owing to the ardour with which I thus contended in the debates of this day, that the people of Rome first conceived a hope of recovering their liberties: and to this great point all my thoughts and all my actions have ever since been perpetually directed. Thus important however as my occupations are, I would enter into a full detail of our proceedings, if I did not imagine that public transactions of every kind are transmitted to you by other hands. From them therefore you will receive a more particular information; whilst I content myself with giving you a short and general sketch of our present circumstances and situation. I must inform you then, we have a senate that acts with spirit; but that as to those of consular dignity, part of them want the courage to exert themselves in the manner they ought, and the rest are ill-affected to the republic. The death of Servius is a great loss to us. Lucius Caesar, though he is altogether in the interest of liberty, yet in tenderness to his nephew does not concur in any very vigorous measure. The consuls in the meantime deserve the highest commendations; I must mention Decimus Brutus likewise with much applause. The conduct of young Caesar also is equally laudable: and I persuade myself that we have reason to hope he will complete the work he has begun. This at least is certain, that if he had not been so extremely expeditious in raising the veteran forces, and if two legions had not deserted to him from Antony's army, there is nothing so cruel or so flagitious which the latter would not have committed.- But as these are articles which I suppose you are already apprised of, I only just mention them in order to confirm them. You shall hear farther from me, whenever I can find a more leisure moment. Farewell. - [43 B.C.] {TO_CORNIFICIUS|AD_FAM_XII_XXIX TO CORNIFICIUS (Ad Fam. XII. xxix) - MY friendship with Lucius Lamia is well known, I am persuaded, not only to yourself, who are acquainted with all the circumstances of my life, but to every Roman in general. It most conspicuously appeared, indeed, to the whole world, when he was banished by the consul Gabinius for having, with so remarkable a spirit of freedom and fortitude, risen up in my defence. Our friendship however did not commence from that period: it was from an affection of a much earlier date that he was induced thus generously to expose himself to every danger in my cause. To these his meritorious services I must add, that there is no man whose company affords me a more true and exquisite entertainment. After what I have thus said, you will think it needless, surely, that I should use much rhetoric in recommending him to your favour. You see the just reason I have for giving him so large a share of my affection: whatever terms therefore the strongest friendship can require upon an occasion of this nature, let your imagination supply for me in the present. I will only assure you, that your good offices to the agents, the servants, and the family of Lamia, in every article wherein his affairs in your province shall require them, will be a more acceptable instance of your generosity than any you could confer in my own personal concerns. I am persuaded indeed from your great penetration into the characters of men, that without my recommendation you would be perfectly well-disposed to give him your best assistance. I must confess, at the same time, I have heard that you suspect him of having signed some decree of the senate injurious to your honour. But I must assure you, in the first place, that he never signed any during the administration of those consuls; and in the next, that almost all the decrees which were pretended to be passed at that time, were absolutely forged. The truth is, you might just as reasonably suppose I was concerned in that decree to which my name was subscribed, relating to Sempronius; though in fact I was then absent from Rome, and complained, I remember, of the injury that had been done me, in a letter which I wrote to you upon the occasion. But not to enter farther into this subject; I most earnestly entreat you, my dear Cornificius, to consider the interest of Lamia, in all respects, as mine, and to let him see that my recommendation has proved of singular advantage to his affairs: assuring yourself, that you cannot in any instance more effectually oblige me. Farewell. - [43 B.C.] {TO_CORNIFICIUS|AD_FAM_XXI_XXV TO CORNIFICIUS (Ad Fam. XXI. xxv) - CORNIFICIUS delivered your letter to me on the 17th of March, about three weeks, as he told me, after he had received it from your hands. The senate did not assemble either on that day or the next; however, on the 9th they met, when I defended your cause in a very full house, and with no unpropitious regards from Minerva. I may with peculiar propriety say so, as the statue of that guardian goddess of Rome, which I formerly erected in the Capitol, and which had lately been thrown down by an high wind, was at the same time decreed to be replaced. Your letter which Pansa read to the senate was much approved, and afforded great satisfaction to the whole assembly. It fired them at the same time with general indignation against the impudent attempts of the horrid Minotaur, for so I may well call those combined adversaries of yours, Calvisius and Taurus. It was proposed therefore that the censure of the senate should pass upon them; but that motion was over-ruled by the more merciful Pansa. However, a decree was voted upon this occasion extremely to your honour. As for my own good offices in your favour, be assured, my dear Cornificius, they have not been wanting from the first moment I conceived a hope of recovering our liberties. Accordingly, when I laid a foundation for that purpose on the 20th of December last, while the rest of those who ought to have been equally forward in that work, stood timidly hesitating in what manner to act, I had a particular view to the preserving you in your present post, and to this end I prevailed with the senate to agree to my motion concerning the continuance of the proconsuls in their respective provinces. But my zeal in your cause did not terminate here, and I still continued my attacks upon that person, who, in contempt of the senate, as well as most injuriously to you, had even whilst he himself was absent from Rome, procured your government to be allotted to him. My frequent, or to speak more properly, my incessant remonstrances against his proceedings, forced him, much against his inclinations, to enter Rome, where he found himself obliged to relinquish the hopes of an honour which he thought himself no less sure of than if it had been in his actual possession. It gives me great pleasure that these my just and honest invectives against your adversary, in conjunction with your own exalted merit, have secured you in your government, as I rejoice extremely likewise in the distinguished honours you have there received. I very readily admit of your excuse in regard to Sempronius, well knowing that your conduct upon that occasion may justly be imputed to those errors to which we were all equally liable, whilst we trod the dark and dubious paths of bondage. I myself, indeed, the grave inspirer of your counsels, and the firm defender of your dignities, even I, my friend, was injudiciously hurried away by my indignation at the times, when too hastily despairing of liberty, I attempted to retire into Greece. But the Etesian winds, like so many patriot-citizens, refused to waft me from the commonwealth, whilst Auster, conspiring in their designs, collected his whole force and drove me back again to Regium. From thence I returned to Rome with all the expedition that sails and oars could speed me, and the very next day after my arrival, I showed the world that I was the only man, amidst a race of the most abject slaves, that dared to assert his freedom and independency. I inveighed indeed against the measures of Antony with so much spirit and indignation, that he lost all manner of patience; and pointing the whole rage of his bacchanalian fury at my devoted head, he at first endeavoured to gain a pretence of assassinating me in the senate, but that project not succeeding, his next resource was to lay wait for my life in private. But I extricated myself from his insidious snares, and drove him, all reeking with the fumes of his nauseous intemperance, into the toils of Octavius. That excellent youth drew together a body of troops, in the first place, for his own and my particular defence; and in the next for that of the republic in general: which if he had not happily raised, Antony, in his return from Brundisium, would have spread desolation, like a wasting pestilence, around the land. What followed I need not add; as I imagine you are well apprised of all that has happened subsequent to that period. To return then to what gave occasion to this digression; let me again assure you, that I am perfectly well satisfied with your excuse concerning Sempronius. The truth is, it was impossible to act with any determined steadiness and uniformity in times of such total anarchy and confusion. "But other days (to use an expression of Terence) are now arrived, and other measures are now required." Come then, my friend, let us sail forth together, and even take our place at the helm. All the advocates of liberty are embarked in one common bottom: and it is my utmost endeavour to steer them right. May prosperous gales then attend our voyage! But whatever winds may arise, my best skill, most assuredly, shall not be wanting: and is it in the power of patriotism to be answerable for more? In the meantime, let it be your care to cherish in your breast every generous and exalted sentiment; remembering always that your true glory must ever be inseparably connected with the republic. Farewell. - {TO_CORNIFICIUS|AD_FAM_XXI_XXV ^paragraph 5} [43 B.C.] - - THE END OF SELECT LETTERS TO SEVERAL FRIENDS