always both see and hear you with pleasure, that pleasure will be greatly increased, when I shall have the satisfaction, at the same time, to be assured that you are perfectly well. My work is at present suspended', as I cannot make use of my own hand: however, I employ myself a good deal in reading. If your transcribers should be puzzled with my manuscript, I beg you would give them your assistance; as, indeed, there is an interlineation relating to a circumstance in Cato's behaviour, when he was only four years of age2, that I could scarce The work to which Cicero alludes was probably a panegyric upon Cato, which he wrote and published about this time. 2 Plutarch mentions several instances in the life of Cato, wherein that consummate patriot had given very early indications of his resolute and inflexible spirit. But the most remarkable, and probably the same which Cicero had celebrated in the passage he is here speaking of, was one that happened when Cato was in the house of his uncle, Livius Drusus, who had taken upon himself the care of his education. At that time the several states of Italy, in alliance with the republic, were strenuously soliciting the privileges of Roman citizens; and Pompedius Silo, a person of great note, who came to Rome, in order to prosecute this affair, was the guest of Drusus. As Pompedius was one day amusing himself with the children of the family, "Well, young "gentlemen," said he, addressing himself particularly to the little Cato and his brother, "I hope you will use your inte"rest with your uncle, to give his vote in our favour." The latter very readily answered in the affirmative, while Cato signified his refusal, by fixing his eyes sternly upon Pompedius, without saying a single word in reply. Pompedius, snatching him up in his arms, ran with him to the window, and, in a pretended rage, threatened to throw him out, if he scarce decypher myself. You will continue your care, likewise, that the dining-room be in proper order for the reception of our guests; in which number, I dare say, I may reckon Tertia, provided Publius be not invited. That strange fellow, Demetrius, was always, I know, the very reverse of his name-sake, of Phaleris3: but I find he is now grown more insufferable than ever, and is degenerated into an arrant Bilienus. I resign the management of him, therefore, entirely into your hands, and you will pay your court to him accordingly. But, however---d'ye see---and as to that---(to present you with a few of his own elegant expletives) if you should have any conversation with him, let me know, that it may furnish me with the subject of a letter, and at the same time did not immediately yield to his request. But in vain: nature had not formed the atrocem animum Catonis of a texture to be menaced out of its purposes. Accordingly Pompedius was so struck with that early symptom of an undaunted spirit, that he could not forbear saying to some of his friends who were present, "How happy will it be for Italy, if this "boy should live! For my part," continued he, "well persuaded, if he were now a man, we should not be " able to procure a single suffrage throughout all Rome." Plut. in vit, Caton. Uticen. "I am 3 Demetrius, surnamed Phalerius, from Phaleris, a seaport town in Greece, was a celebrated orator, who flourished about three centuries before the birth of Christ. + Who this person and Demetrius were is utterly unknown but it is probable that the ridiculous part of their characters, to which Cicero here alludes, was that of being very dull and inelegant orators. time afford me the pleasure of reading so much longer an one from yourself. In the mean while take care of your health, my dear Tiro, I conjure you, and be well persuaded that you cannot render me a more pleasing service. Farewel. LETTER II. [A. U. 708.] To DOLABELLA'. OH! that the silence you so kindly regret had been occasioned by my own death, rather than by the severe loss' I have suffered: a loss I should be better able to support, if I had you with 'He was at this time with Cæsar in Spain. 2 The death of his daughter Tullia. It appears, by a former letter, that she had lately lain-in at Rome, from whence she was probably removed, for the benefit of the air, to her father's Tusculan villa, where she seems to have died. This letter furnishes a presumptive argument against the opinion of those who imagine that Dolabella and Tullia were never actually divorced. For, in the first place, notwithstanding it appears that there was some distance of time between the accident of her death and the present epistle, yet it seems to have been the first letter which Cicero had written to Dolabella upon the occasion. Now it is altogether improbable, if the mar riage had subsisted, that Cicero should not have given him immediate notice of an event in which, if not from affection, at least from interest, he would have been greatly concerned. In the next place, it is equally improbable, supposing there had been no divorce, that Cicero should speak of this misfortune only in general and distant terms, as he does throughout this whole letter, without so much as mentioning the name of Tullia, or intimating even the remotest hint of any connexion between her and Dolabella. But the following letter will supply a farther and more positive argument against the opinion above-mentioned. See rem. 4. on the next letter. Ad Att. xii. 45. 46. with me: for your judicious counsels, and singular affection towards me, would greatly contribute to alleviate its weight. This good office, indeed, I may yet, perhaps, receive; for, as I imagine we shall soon see you here, you will find me still so deeply affected, as to have an opportunity of affording me great assistance: not that this affliction has so broken my spirit, as to render me unmindful that I am a man, or apprehensive that I must totally sink under its pressure. But all that cheerfulness and vivacity of temper, which you once so particularly admired, has now, alas! entirely forsaken me. My fortitude and resolution, nevertheless, (if these virtues were ever mine) I still retain; and retain them too in the same vigour as when you left me. As to those battles which, you tell me, you have sustained upon my account, I am far less solicitous that you should confute my detrac tors', than that the world should know (as it unquestionably does) that I enjoy a place in your 3 The person to whom Cicero alludes, was, in all probability, his own nephew, who was at this time in the army with Cæsar. This young man had taken great liberties with his uncle's character, aspersing it upon all occasions, and in all companies in particular, (and what gave Cicero the greatest uneasiness) he attempted to infuse a suspicion among the principal officers of the army, that Cicero was a man of dangerous designs, and one against whom Cæsar ought to be particularly upon his guard. Ad Att. xii. 38. xiii. 37. your affection; and may you still continue to render that truth conspicuous. To this request I will add another, and entreat you to excuse me for not sending you a longer letter. I shorten it, not only as imagining we shall soon meet, but because my mind is at present by no means sufficiently composed for writing. Farewel. LETTER III. [A. U. 708.] SERVIUS SULPICIUS to CICERO. I am I RECEIVED the news of your daughter's death, with all the concern it so justly deserves; and, indeed, I cannot but consider it as a misfortune in which I bear an equal share with yourself. If I had been near you when this fatal accident happened, I should not only have mingled my tears with yours, but assisted you with all the consolation in my power. sensible, at the same time, that offices of this kind afford, at best, but a wretched relief: for as none are qualified to perform them, but those who stand near to us, by the ties either of blood or affection, such persons are generally too much afflicted themselves, to be capable of administering comfort to others. Nevertheless, I thought proper to suggest a few reflections. which occurred to me upon this occasion: not |