11. In short, he was greatly concerned; he addressed vehenneDt complaints to me oa ttie aubject, and aitreatcd me to write to you nitb all the eameBtnesB po^fale; as I now do, and entreat you most earnestly again and again, to allow the agents of Flavins to use their own discretion as to taking the property, and to write nothing to the people of Apollonia that is contrary to the interest of Flavius, and, besides, to do everything to gratify Flavius, and consequently Porapey. I should, in truth, be reluctant to appear to you over liberal, because of your injustice to him; but I entreat you to leave of your own accord some authority and some record of a. decree or paper in your own hand-writing, which may have a &yoarable bearing on the business and cauBo of Flavius.
For the man being at the some time one who pays me great req>ect, while he ia tenacious of his own rights and dignity, is diBsatisSed that he had no iufluence with you, either &om considerations of friendship or of right. And, I believe, on sonie occasion or other, both Pompey and Csesar recommended Flavius'B interest to you, and Flavius had written to you himeelf on the subject, and so, I am sure, did I. I^ therefore, there ia any one thing which you think, you ought to do at my request, let this matter be that one. If you have any regard for me, take care, strive, and ma?iiige, that Flavius may feel all the gratitude possible both to yuu and to me. I ask this of you with such earnestness that I cannot ask anything with greater solicitude.
IV. 12. As to what you write to me about Hermias, it was indeed a matter of great anuoyauce to me. I had written you a letter, by no means in a brotherly style, which I wrote in esoafisive anger, when I wna provoked by a communication from Diodotus, the freedman of Lucullus, stating^ what I had heard at the moment about the agreement; and I wished to recal it. This letter, written in aa uu&aternal spirit, you ought iu ft fraternal spirit to forgive.
13. With rrapeet to Censoriuus and Antouius, Cassius and ScBsvoIa, I am very glad indeed that you are, as yon write, beloved by them. Tlia otljor matters in that letter were of a graver character than I wished: 6p$ay rav ravr, and axa^ Savoy.
I Those raattera will be more Berioua. My reproofs were full of ftffeotion; they were not absolutely of co importance, but moderate and light.^ I should never have thought you deserving of the Tery elighteat reprehension in anything, while you were conducting yourself with the moHt rigid propriety, if we had not many eaemieB. Whatever I wrotfl at all in the tone of admonition or reproof, I WTote from the aniiety of my caution, in which I etill continue, and shall continue, and Bhall not cease to press you to act in a Bimilar way.
14. Attalus the Iphemian has appUed to me to prevail on jou not to hinder the money which has been voted for the (rtatue of Quintns Publicenua from being levied; and I do l»eg this of you, and eihort. yon not to allow the honour of an of such a character, and so intimately connected with to bo at all diminished or obstructed by your means. In the next place, Llciuiua, the slave of jEsop the tragedian, my great friend, with whose person you are acquainted, has fled; he was at Athens, staying with Patro the Epicurean, OS a free man: from thence he proceeded into Asia. Afterwards, a man called Plato, a citizen of Sardis, and an Epicurean, who is accustomed to be a good deal at Athens, and who was at Athens at the time when Liciniua went thither, arrested the man, when he subsequently learned from j$isop's letters that he was a runaway slave, and deUvered him into custody at Ephesus; hut whether he put him in the public prison, or in the private house of correction, I could not welt understand ftum his letter. As he is at Ephesus, I should wish you, by some means or other, to search for the man, and use all your diligence to bring him over witb you. Do not consider of what value he is, for he is of little value who has now proved himself worthless; but jEsop is So concerned and indignant at the wickedness and audacity of the slave, that you can do him no greater favour than to be the means of his recovering him.
V. 16. Attend now to what you are most desirous to hear.
' This ia rather ohsoure. Maoutjus interprets it, that tho meiming of the Greek quotationa in the letter which Cicero repented of, wna, — Let ua keep tha vessel stroight on her cMiuraa; if we fail, we can die but once. And now lie Baya, the advice which 1 am giving vau is of greater canBequeuce than the sffaira which impelled me uae that Ungiiugs, in whiuh despondency was nungled wi<^ i EBOTHEB QUINTUS.
The republic we Lave utterly lost; icBorauch, lliat Cato, n young roan of no wisdotu, but Etiil a Eomaii citizen and a Cato, scarcely escaped with his life, because, when he was resolved to impeach Gahiiiius for corruption, and the prtctora would not grant access for Bome days, or give him any opportunity of addressing thorn, he made his way to the rostrum, and called Pompey a " private dictator." Nothing was ever more nearly happening, tbau that he should be killed. From this circumstance you may see what the state of the whole republic must be, 16. Still men are not likely to be wanting to my own cause.^ They make profesaiona of adherence to me to a wonderful extent, and offer themselves, and make promiaes. In truth, I am in the greatest hopes, and even in greater confidence. I hope that we shall get the upper-band. I feel confident tbat I need fear no misfortune in this state of afOiiis. But still this is the coudition of things. If Clodius tmpeacheB me, all Italy will throng arouud me to secure my coming off with increased glory; but if be attempts to carry hia point by violence, I then hope that we shall resist him with force, not only through the efforts of our friends, but even those of strangera. All men promise me the aid trf themselves, and their &iends, and freedmen, and slaves, and even of their money. Our ancient band of worthies glows with zeal and love for me. If in times past any of them have been at all alienated, or cool, they now, from hatred to these kiugs,^ unite themselves with the good citizens.
Pompey promises everything, and so does Ciesar; whom I trust so far as to abate nothing of my own preparation. The of the people elect are my friends; tbo consuls smselves in a vety iavourable light. I find the praitors 'excellent friends, and most energetic citizens, especially Nigidius, Memmius, and Lentulus; I find the Otliers^ also good, but these particularly so. Study therefore to cherish much courage and good hope. Of everything, however, which takes place from day to day I will keep you oontiiiaally informed.
' The attBck with wMoh Clodiufl waa tbreateaiDg ^<"\.
' There were eight ptwtors altogether.
I LETTER IIL This letter wa* written in the next year, 686 i.i;.c. Cfesar, on tho eipiratioQ of his canBulehiii, did not depart at once foe his prarince, but remuned outside the oitj with his legiona. CIodiuH, through his infliieiioe, obtajned the tribuneahip, Kad having won over the cunaulB by hii promiBBS, began a set of reTalutionary meannres j introducing a hill to limit tlie power of the oensora, mid another to rertore tha oollegea or guilds which had been Buppresaed a few yeare before; and a. tliird to Topml the Lex -£lia Fulia, which gave the conaule a power of disBOlving the comitia by declaring the aiiBpicea unfavourablB, Having strengthened bimeelf by tbeae measures, he proceeded in hia -threatoned attaok upon Cicero. Cffaar offered him one of his Cnimpaniaji commiaaionershipa ob a means of withdrawing in honour for a while; or a lieutenancy in Gaul under liiraself; but be refused these offajB, trusting to the attachment of the people and Pompey. When be found them likely to fail bim, he, and the greater part of the senate imd knigbta, put on black garments, as a dress of supplication i and Cicero tnade personal application to Fiso for bis proteotioD. At last, in the beginniiig of April, by the advice of bis friends, Cicero withdrew from the city, taldng an image of Minerva, and placing it in the temple o! Jupiter Capitotinus as a deposit; sod this letter was written while he was in exile at ThessaloDioa, Marcus to Ids brother Quintics, grteting, I, 1. Ml brother, toy brother, my brother, were yoa afraid that, under the influeaoe of Bome angry feeling, I had sent to you elaveB without any letters; or that I was even unwilling to see youl I angry with youl How could I have been angry with you! I dare say; for yon, I auppose, have crushed ■ me; your enemies, your unpopularity has ruined me; aud it I is not I who have miserably uadoue you. That conBulship laiue, BO much estollod, has torn from me yon, my children, my countjy, my fortunes; would that it may have takes nothing from you b\it me alone! But certainly, on your partj everything honourable, agreeable, has befallen me; from me there arises to you only sorrow for my ill-fortuae, fear for your own, regret, grief, and aelitude. Could I be unwilling to see yon) Nay, rather I was unwilling to be seen fay you.^ For you would wot have seen your brother; you ' QuintuB was juat quitting his government in Asia, and returning to Home, where Ma encmiea were prepating to impeach bim. He proposed to come ont of hi» way to ThesaalgnioB, to eee hia brother; but Cicero urged bim rather to hasten to Kome. Me says to Attious, (Ep. ill ] D,) that it wna necessary for bis brother " to hasten to Rome with all speed, leat any injury should be done to Mm in his abaonce."...TO HIS BBOTHEK (jniNTUB. Si TOold not have seen Lira whom you bad left, him whom yoa b&d known, him to whom, weeping, you had hidden Earewell, yoiuaelf weepiug, of whom you, when departing, had taken leave, after he had attended you. Bome way on your journey; you would have seen not even a trace or image of him, but A sort of effigy of a breathing corpse. And I wish that you had rather seen or heard that I was dead; I wish tliat I had left you surviving, not only my life, but ray dignity.
2. But I call all the gods to witnesB, that I have been recalled from death by this single expression alone, that all men declared that a part of your life also was laid up in my life. I have therefore erred and acted wrongly; for if I had died, my death of itself would have been an ample proof of my love and affection for you; but I have teen the cause, that though I am alive, you are without me, and that while I am alive, yon are in need of the assistance of others; and that my voice b silent above all in our domestic dangers, after having often been a protection against perils which did not at all affect ourselves. For aa to the fact of slaves having come to you without aay letters, since you see it did not happen tirough anger, the cause was aeanredly indolence, and an infinite multitude of sorrows and miseries.
3. With what sorrow do you think that these very words are writtenJ with as much as I know that you read them. Can I ever cease to think of you, or ever think of you without tears? For when I regret your absence, is it a brother alone that I am regrettingl Nay, T rather regret one who is almost a contemporary in afiection;' a son in reverential ** TherEfore I preferred tbat be should hsEten to Rome, instBod of commg to cee me; and nt the bsjob tiitie, (for 1 will teU the plain truth, by which you will be ahleto see the grecdiBeB of m; distress,) I could not bring mynuiid to see him who is no greatly nttiOcbed to me in each tronble; nor to axhibit to hiru my own miaeiy and grief, and the utter ruin of my f ortuno; nor could I endure to be seen by him. And I fesTBd, too, what no doubt would hnve beon the rase, that ho would not be able to tear himself from me." This letter to Atticus hoara the eomo dote aa Hie one in the text to Quintua.
' Saacitttte prope aijualem. Cicero's meaning <if the text be na CSoara wrote it) seems to be, that hie bruther is almost his equal, not meraljr in length of life, but in length of affection. Marcus has loved ' u longer than Quintug haa lored Mnrcne, becanee Marcus lured » in bia infancy before Qaintus coold return his lore. In saying S Iiave come doubt whether I am giving the right sensa to evUuiT I I a father in wisdom. What has ever bcea agreeable to me without you, or to you without mcl Why need I add, that Bt the same time I regret the absence of my daughter) A maiden of what affection, -nhat modesty, what ability! tlie image of my own countenance and coaverBation and dispoaition. Why need I add, that I regret also my son, that moat graceful youth, and moat dearly loved by me! whom I, like a crue] aud hard-hearted man, dismissed firom my embrace^ a youth of greater wisdom than I could have wished; for the unhappy boy had sense to feel what was going on. Why too should I speak of your son, your omi image, whom my boy Cicero both loved as a brother and respected even as an elder brother] Why should I observe that I did not permit tliat moat miaerable woman, my moat faithful wife, to attend me in my eailc, in order that there might be socoe one to protect the relics left from our common calamity, our common children 1 4. But still, I did write you a letter, in Buch a way as I could, and gave it to Fhilogonus your freedman, aud I imagine that it was Bubsequently delivered to you; in which I continued to eihort and entreat you, a,s your slaves told you in the verbal meaaage which they gave you from me, to go straight to Rome, and to go with speed. For, in the first place, I wished you to be there to protect yourself, in casa there were still any enemies of ours whose cruelty was not yet satisfied with the calamities which had befallen me; and, in the second place, I dreaded tho lamentations which must have broken out at our meeting, and I could not have endured your departure; I feared too that very thing which you mention in your letter, that you would not have bi able to tear yourself Irom me. For these reasona, thia gr misfortune of not seeing you; at all, than which it does lu luaviCat or aqualii. But wa can hardly taka aqaaUa in t " equal," far Cicero Tpould havo offered poor praise to Ilia brother if im bad Baid to him, " Tou are cdnKist mf equal in taamtat." " Suavitos," Ea;a Maleepiua, "est inter amicoa." But tbe souudnees of the text is eitremelji doubtful. Tbe old editions have iuamlaU profe aqvaitm, prope fratrtnt; the modem edilocg omit propa fratrcm. Lambinua ■would read luavitatefralrmt, Btate prope fffuutem, which Qruter calla a frigid emecdEitioD, but wiuch would materially Improve the passago. ^loit, however, is by no nmang nacaBaary; for, if it ware omitted. a^aolii would Btill be taken in the sense of " equal in a%e."
rO HIS BUDTHGn QUINrUS.
Mem possible for any more painful and bitter grief to havo befollet] affectionate and devoted brothers, was loss bitter and lets distressing tiiau our meeting and our separatioa 'would have beeu.
fi. Now, if you can, do what I, who have always appeared to you to bo a man of fortitude, cannot; raise and stroBgthea yourself if there is any conteKt to be encountered. I hope, if my hope has any weight, that your own integrity, and the affection which the city bears you, and even pity for me, will bring you some protection. But if you find yourself free from that danger, you will do, I am sure, anything which, yon ahall think poBsible to be done in my behalf. On this subject many of my friends write me many letters, and show that they still entertain hopes; bnt I myself do not see clearly vrhat to hope, as my enemies have very great power; and of my friends, some have deserted me, and some havo even betrayed me, as they fear perhaps in my return a reproof to their own wickedness. But what is the real position of affairs in that respect, I should wish you to exacnine thoroughly, and to let me know, for myself, as long as it shall be of any use to you, if you shall see that there is danger to ba met, I wii! continue to live; longer than that I cannot exist: for no prudence and no learning has power enough to endure Euofa a weight of sorrow.
6. I know that there has been a more honourable and a more useful opportunity of dying, but I not only let that slip, but many other things too; but, if I chose to waste time in lamenting what is past, I should be doing nothing but increasing your sorrow, and eshibiting my own folly. What, however, neither ought to be done nor can be done, is for me to remain in so miserable and dishonourable an existence as this any longer thau the chance of an opportunity of serving you or any well-grounded hope shall require; bo that I, who was formerly most happy in my brother, in my children, my wife, my resources, and even in respect of riches,^ and in dignity, authority, repute, and favour, not inferior to the greatest mea who have ever existed, now, in these cruabed and ruined circumstances, am no longer able even to lament myself and my friends.
' Gtnere ipyt jJteuniir. Paul Miuiutiafl would read, geiKrc iptoptcanid.
OIOGBOB tiETITEKa 7. Why, therefore, have you written, to me Rboul any bills of ejcbanget As if your resouroes did not now support mo, ju which very matter, miserable that I am, I both ace and feel how great an error I have committed: while you have to Bfttisfy those in whose debt you are, out of your own means and those of youi- son, I have squandered to no piu--ipose money drawn out of the treasury in your name. But still, the eum which you mentioned in your letters hna beeo, paid to Mark Antony, and the same amount to Csapio. And what I have with rae is quite sufficient for the objects which I have in view; for whether I am restored, or whether I am forced to abandon all hope, I want nothing more here; and RH for you, if perchance any annoyance should arise, I advise you to apply to Crassus and to Calidius.
8. How much trust may be placed in HorteuBiuB I do not know. He treated me with the greatest poaeible dishonesty and treachery, though with the greatest pretences of affection, and with unremitting attention day after day, Arrins being also in league with him; and it was from being deceived by their advice, and promises, and rccomraendations, that I fell into this misfortune. But you will take no notice of this, that they may not injure you; only be on your guard on this point, (and with this view I would have you cultivate the friendship of Hortensins hiraaelf through the instrumentality of PoraponiuB,)'^ that that verso^ which was quoted agMnst you with reference to the Aurolian law, when yoa were a candidate for the cedileship, may not be confirmed by false witness. For there is nothing that I am so much afraid of as that, when men find out how ninch pity for me, your prayers, and a regard for your safety, is likely to escite, they will oppose you with greater violence, 9. I believe that Messala is well affected towards you; and I think that even Pompey pretends to be so; but I wish that you may have no occasion to experience this. And I would pray to the gods that you might not, if they had not given ' Titua Pompomus AttieuB.
' Ciearo was afraid, I imagme, that his brother QnintuB might be aacBBed of bribeiy, becauBO. when he wis a cnndidate iat the lediliwhip. La bad given aviaj moaey contrary to the laive; on wbidh occaeion gome Terse had been quoted about ^'"1 in refarenoe to the Aurelian law, touching upon bnbery. We may auppoae that by the Aurnliaa hiw some provisiimB were made regarding bribery. — Pavl Uaivaliixs.
) HIS BflOIHEE (JUUJIL-a, ray that thej ■ ich have falleu f up attending to my prayere. But still, I do pray I may be eoutont witii the infinite misfortunea which ' upon me; in ■which, however, there is not only no dishonour fii)m wickedness, but my whole sorrow is that most Bevera punishments are inflicted upon the most Tirtnoua actions.
10. Why, inybrother,needI recommend to you my daughter and yours, and my little Cicero I One of my sorrows is that their orphaned state %viU cause you no less grief than it causes me. But, as long ae you are safe, they will not ba oipbaOB. As to the rest, bo may some safety bo granted me, and an opportunity of dying in my native land, an tears KuSSsr me to write no more, I would have you also take care of Terentia, and write me an answer with a fiill account of everything. Keep up your courage as far as the natura of circumBtanceB will allow.
Dated on the 13th of June at Tliessalonica.
P Marcue to his brother Qitintuf, greeting.
1. 1 KBTKEAT you, TOy brother, if you and all my friends are involved in my individual niiu, do not attribute it to any dishonesty or evil-doing of mine, but rather to my imprudence and ill-fortune. There ia no error on my part, escepfc that I have believed those men, by whom I thouglit it would be impious for me to be deceived, or even for whose very intereata I did not think it would be advantageous. But every one of my most intimate friends — every oue most nearly connected with me, and moat dear to me, either feared for himself or envied me; and so, wretched that I ■was, I had nothing but the good iaith of my friende. • • • My own prudence was at faidt.
2. But if your own innocence, and the pity which mon feel, sufficiently protect you sit this moment from annoyance, you no doubt see clearly whether there is any hope of safety left fin: me. For Pomponiua and Sestiiis, and my friend Piso, have hilierto detained me at Thesaalonica, as they prevented. loe from departini; to a greater liiatance from tlie cVtg, *i'c^ account of I know not what changes; but I looked for somS reaiilt, more because of their lettera, thiin from any wellfounded hope of my ovm. For what could I hope, with my ' enemy in ftill power, under the rule of my detractore, with my fnenda faithless, and numbers envious of me 1 3. Of the new tribunes of the people,' Sestius indeed is full of wishes to serve me, and so, as I hope, are Curius, Milo, Fadiua, andFabrioius; though Clodius is most bitter against a man who, even when out of office, will be able to eiert the same power to stir up the assembly: and then, some one will also ha prepared to interpose his veto.
4. These things were not Bet before me when I was leaving the city, but I was constantly told that I should be brought back in three days with the greatest honour. How did you act then? you will ask me. — How? Many things came together to disturb my mind; the sudden defection of Pompey, the alienation of the consuls, also that of the prtetors, the fears of the farmers ef the public revenues, the dread of civil war. The tears of my friends prevented me from going forth to encounter death; a course which certainly would have been best suited to my honour, and the best calculated to afford me a refuge from my intolerable miseries. But on this subject I wrote to you in that letter which I gave to Pliaetlion. Now, since you too are sunk down into such grief and perplexity as no one else ever suffered, if the pity of men can afford any relief in oor common calamity, you will certainly gain an incredible advantage; hnt if we are utterly ruined (alas, me!) then I shail have been the destruction of all my friends, to whom. I was previously no disgrace.
5. But do yon, as I wrote to you before, examine the matter in all its bearings, and acquaint yourself with it thoroughly, and write me the exact truth, as the state of the time with reference to me, and not as your affection for me, dictates. I will cling to life as long as I shall think that it is for your advantage, or that it is possible to retain any hope; you will know Sestiua, who is most friendly to me; and I imagine you will wish, for your own sake, to know ' The election of tribunes took place in the miJdle of.lulj, and this letter waa npparBntly written aooa oTterwardB, ia the eamo year be the preceding one.
TO HIS BROTHEB QUINTUS. 3?
Lentulns, who is going to be consul; although facts are more stubborn things than words. You will see fully what is required, and what is the state of affairs; if no one shall despise your solitary condition and our common distress, something will be able to be effected by you, or else not by any means. But if your enemies begin to attack you, do not be idle; for against me they will not proceed with swords, but with lawHsuits. However, I trust that there may be nothing of this. I entreat you to write me full information of everything; and to think, if you please, that there is in me less courage or wisdom than before, but not less love and affection for you.
CICEBOS LEITEIW BOOK II.
LETTER I.
¥ I 'X'lua letter mu written at tlie end of the year 61...
Bhip of LcntuliiB Spintber and Metellus Nepoa. Cieero had neve, been formallj banisheil; for though Clodiufl had prevailed to interdict hinj from Sre and water, be yet did not propose any vote that he should be banished, nor did he attempt to have bis name removed from the roll of the Benate. He did indeed destroy his house, and dedicate the site to the (joddesa Liberty; and the conaulB seized hia Tinoulttn villa; but atill no legal sentence had ever been pronounced against Mm. At the end of the year 696, when hia enemy Piso, the Tate consul, was coming to Macedonia, nhich had beefi allotted to him as his province, Cicero moved to Djrrhachlum, in order to be nearer Italy, where hia brother, oad Pomponius Attieas (mentioned In the laat letter), were milking great exertions to render the people favourable to bis return. Pompey had become alienated from Clodius by hie violence and Insolence; and LenCulus, one of the consuls, wa< wholly devoted to Cicero. The consuls formally proposed that Cicero shoold be in*-itad to return. One of the tribunes, Sen'anus, prevented the formal adoption of any such measure for a time; but in August it was carried, and in September Cicero returned to Rome, where he was rec^elved vntb acclamations. He immediately began to cultivate the good-will of Pompey, by "proposing his appointment to an extraordinary commisBion for supplying the city, which was iu great distress from scarcity; and 'he hmiBelf accepted a subordinate conmuasi ooership. The site of his bouse on the Palatine bill was restored to him, it being declared to have been illegally and informally consecrated; and a sum of money wim voted to him to recompense him for hia other losses, though Cicero wajs net at bU satisGed with the amount of compensation. The consulselect for the ensuing year were Lentulus MaroelUnus, and Marcius I PhilippuB.
I MarcriB to hU brother QuitUus, greeting.
1. The letter which you read I had written in the morning, but Liciaius acted with kind consideration ia coming to me in the evening as soon as the senate was adjourned, in order that, if I chose, I might write you an account of all that had taken place. The senate waa more numerous than we TO nia BKOTHHB QUDTTL'S.
Lad thought it could possibly have been in the month December, close upon the festival days.^ Of the men of consular dignity, we were there ouraelves, and the two suls-elect; and Publiua Serviliua, and Marcus LuuuUub, and Lepidus, and Volcattus, and Glabrio, prsetora. We certainly were a very numerous assembly, in all about two hundred. Lupus had excited our expectations; he discussed the question of the Campaoian land with sufficient accuracy. He was listened to with profound sjlence. You are not ignorant of the subject He did not pass over a single one of our actions. Some sharp things were said against Cains Cojsar; some insulting observations were made on Gelliua; and some aipOBtulations addressed to Pooipey in his absence. When he had summed up the whole matter at a late hour, he said he would not ask us for our votes, lest he should lay on us the burden of incurring any one's enmity; from the reproaches which had been uttered on previous occasious, and from the present silence, he waa well aware what the feelings of the senate were. Immediately he began to adjourn the senate.
Then Marcellinua said, " Do not. Lupus, from our silence attempt to judge what on this occasion wo either approve or disapprova; I, as far as 1 myself am concerned, and I believe that the same feelings iuBuence the rest, am silent, because I do not think that, as Pompey is absent, it is proper for the question of the Campanian land to be discussed." Tlien he said that he had no wish to detain the senate any longer.