B.C. 60. coss., Q.
Caecilius Metellus Celer, L. Afranius.
B.C. 60. coss., Q.
Caecilius Metellus Celer, L. Afranius. |
This
was the year in which Caesar, returning from his
propraetorship in
Spain, found Pompey in difficulties
with the senate (1) as to the confirmation
en bloc of his
acta in the East, (2)
as to the assignation of lands to his veterans;
and being met with opposition himself as to the
triumph that he claimed, and his candidatureship
for the consulship, he formed with Pompey and
Crassus the agreement known as the first
triumvirate. Cicero saw his favourite political
object, the
concordia
ordinum, threatened by any opposition to
the triumvirate, which he yet distrusted as
dangerous to the constitution. We shall find him,
therefore, vacillating between giving his support
to its policy or standing by the extreme
Optimates. P. Clodius is taking measures to be
adopted into a plebeian gens, in order to stand
for the tribuneship. Quintus is still in
Asia.
Pompey's triumph had taken place in the previous
September.
XXIII (A I, 18)
TO ATTICUS (IN EPIRUS)
ROME, 20 JANUARY
Believe me there is nothing at this moment of
which I stand so much in need as a man with whom
to share all that causes me anxiety: a man to love
me; a man of sense to whom I can speak without
affectation, reserve, or concealment.
For my brother is away—that most
open-hearted and affectionate of men. Metellus is
not a human being, but “
Mere sound and air, a howling wilderness.
” While you, who have so often lightened my
anxiety and my anguish of soul by your
conversation and advice, who are ever my ally in
public affairs, my confidant in all private
business, the sharer in all my conversations and
projects—where are you? So entirely am I
abandoned by all, that the only moments of repose
left me are those which are spent with my wife,
pet daughter, and sweet little Cicero. For as to
those friendships with the great, and their
artificial attractions, they have indeed a certain
glitter in the outside world, but they bring no
private satisfaction. And so, after a crowded
morning levée, as I go down to the
forum surrounded by troops of friends, I can find
no one out of all that crowd with whom to jest
freely, or into whose ear I can breathe a familiar
sigh. Therefore I wait for you, I long for you, I
even urge on you to come for I have many
anxieties, many pressing cares, of which I think,
if I once had your ears to listen to me, I could
unburden myself in the conversation of a single
walk. And of my private anxieties, indeed, I shall
conceal all the stings and vexations, and not
trust them to this letter and an unknown
letter-carrier. These, however—for I
don't want you to be made too
anxious—are not very painful: yet they
are persistent and worrying, and are not put to
rest by the advice or conversation of any friend.
But in regard to the Republic I have still the
same courage and purpose, though it has again and
again of its own act eluded treatment.
1 For should I put briefly
what has occurred since you left, you would
certainly exclaim that the Roman empire cannot be
maintained much longer. Well, after your departure our first scene, I think, was
the appearance of the Clodian scandal, in which
having, as I thought, got an opportunity of
pruning licentiousness and keeping our young men
within bounds, I exerted myself to the utmost, and
lavished all the resources of my intellect and
genius, not from dislike to an individual, but
from the hope of not merely correcting, but of
completely curing the state. The Republic received
a crushing blow when this jury was won over by
money and the opportunity of debauchery. See what
has followed we have had a consul inflicted upon
us, whom none except us philosophers can look at
without a sigh. What a blow that is ! Though a
decree of the senate has been passed about bribery
and the corruption of juries, no law has been
carried; the senate has been harassed to death,
the Roman knights alienated. So that one year has
undermined two buttresses of the Republic, which
owed their existence to me, and me alone; for it
has at once destroyed the prestige of the senate
and broken up the harmony of the orders. And now
enter this precious year! It was inaugurated by
the suspension of the annual rites of Iuventas ;
2 for Memmius initiated M.
Lucullus's wife in some rites of his own! Our
Menelaus, being annoyed at that, divorced his
wife. Yet the old Idaean shepherd had only injured
Menelaus; our Roman Paris thought Agamemnon as
proper an object of injury as Menelaus.
3 Next
there is a certain tribune named C. Herennius,
whom you, perhaps, do not even know—and
yet you may know him, for he is of your tribe, and
his father Sextus used to distribute money to your
tribesmen—this person is trying to
transfer P. Clodius to the plebs, and is actually
proposing a law to authorize the whole people to
vote in Clodius's affair in the
campus.
4 I have given him a characteristic reception in the senate,
but he is the thickest-skinned fellow in the
world. Metellus is an excellent consul, and much
attached to me, but he has lowered his influence
by promulgating (though only for form's sake) an
identical bill about Clodius. But the son of
Aulus,
5
God in heaven! What a cowardly and spiritless
fellow for a soldier! How well he deserves to be
exposed, as he is, day after day to the abuse of
Palicanus !
6 Farther, an agrarian law has
been promulgated by Flavius, a poor production
enough, almost identical with that of Plotius. But
meanwhile a genuine statesman is not to be found,
even "in a dream." The man who could be one, my
friend Pompey—for such he is, as I would
have you know—defends his two penny
embroidered toga
7 by saying nothing. Crassus never risks his
popularity by a word. The others you know without
my telling you. They are such fools that they seem
to expect that, though the Republic is lost, their
fish-ponds will be safe. There is one man who does
take some trouble, but rather, as it seems to me,
with consistency and honesty, than with either
prudence or ability—
Cato. He has been
for the last three months worrying those unhappy
publicani, who were
formerly devoted to him, and refuses to allow of
an answer being given them by the senate. And so
we are forced to suspend all decrees on other
subjects until the
publicani have got their answer. For
the same reason I suppose even the business of the
foreign embassies will be postponed. You now
understand in what stormy water we are and as from
what I have written to you in such strong terms
you have a view also of what I have not written,
come back to me, for it is time you did. And
though the state of affairs to which I invite you
is one to be avoided, yet let your
value for me so far prevail, as to induce you to
come there even in these vexatious circumstances.
For the rest I will take care that due warning is
given, and a notice put up in all places, to
prevent you being entered on the census as absent;
and to get put on the census just before the
lustration is the mark of your true man of
business.
8 So let me see
you at the earliest possible moment. Farewell.
20 January in the
Consulship of Q. Metellus and L. Afranius.
XXIV (A I, 19)
TO ATTICUS (IN EPIRUS)
ROME, 15 MARCH
It is not only if I had as much leisure as
you, but also if I chose to send letters as short
as yours usually are, should I easily beat you and
be much the more regular in writing. But, in fact,
it is only one more item in an immense and
inconceivable amount of business, that I allow no
letter to reach you from me without its containing
some definite sketch of events and the reflections
arising from it. And in writing to you, as a lover
of your country, my first subject will naturally
be the state of the republic; next, as I am the
nearest object of your affection, I will also
write about myself, and tell you what I think you
will not be indisposed to know. Well then, in
public affairs for the moment the chief subject of
interest is the disturbance in
Gaul. For the
Aedui—"our brethren"
9
—have recently fought a losing battle,
and the Helvetii are undoubtedly in arms and
making raids upon our province.
10 The senate
has decreed that the two Consuls should draw lots
for the Gauls, that a levy should be held, all
exemptions from service be suspended, and legates
with full powers be sent to visit the states in
Gaul, and
see that they do not join the Helvetii. The
legates are Quintus Metellus Creticus,
11 L. Flaccus,
12 and
lastly—a case of "rich unguent on
lentils"—Lentulus, son of Clodianus.
13 And while on this subject I cannot omit
mentioning that when among the consulars my name
was the first to come up in the ballot, a full
meeting of the senate declared with one voice that
I must be kept in the city. The same occurred to
Pompey after me; so that we two appeared to be
kept at home as pledges of the safety of the
Republic. Why should I look for the "bravos" of
others when I get these compliments at home? Well,
the state of affairs in the city is as follows.
The agrarian law is being vehemently pushed by the
tribune Flavius, with the support of Pompey, but
it has nothing popular about it except its
supporter. From this law I, with the full assent
of a public meeting, proposed to omit all clauses
which adversely affected private rights. I
proposed to except from its operation such public
land as had been so in the consulship of P. Mucius
and L. Calpurnius.
14 I proposed to confirm
the titles of holders of those to whom Sulla had
actually assigned lands. I proposed to retain the
men of
Volaterrae and
Arretium—whose lands Sulla
had declared forfeited but had not
allotted—in their holdings. There was
only one section in the bill that I did not
propose to omit, namely, that land should be
purchased with this money from abroad, the
proceeds of the new revenues for the next five
years.
15 But to this whole agrarian scheme the
senate was opposed, suspecting that some novel
power for Pompey was aimed at. Pompey, indeed, had
set his heart on getting the law passed. I,
however, with the full approval of the applicants
for land, maintained the holdings of all private
owners—for, as you know, the landed
gentry form the bulk of our party's
forces—while I nevertheless satisfied
the people and Pompey (for I wanted to do that
also) by the purchase clause; for, if that was put
on a sound footing, I thought that two advantages
would accrue—the dregs might be drawn
from the city, and the deserted portions of
Italy be
repeopled. But this whole business was interrupted
by the war, and has cooled off. Metellus is an
exceedingly good consul, and much attached to me.
That other one is such a ninny that he clearly
doesn't know what to do with his purchase.
16 This is all my public news, unless you
regard as touching on public affairs the fact that
a certain Herennius, a tribune, and a fellow
tribesman of yours—a fellow as
unprincipled as he is needy—has now
begun making frequent proposals for transferring
P. Clodius to the plebs; he is vetoed by many of
his colleagues. That is really, I think, all the
public news.
For my part,
ever since I won what I may call the splendid and
immortal glory of the famous fifth of December
17 (though it was accompanied by the jealousy
and hostility of many), I have never ceased to
play my part in the Republic in the same lofty
spirit, and to maintain the position I then
inaugurated and took upon myself. But when, first,
by the acquittal of Clodius I clearly perceived
the insecurity and rotten state of the law courts;
and, secondly, when I saw that it took so little
to alienate my friends the
publicani from the
senate—though with me personally they
had no quarrel; and, thirdly, that
the rich (I mean your friends the fish-breeders)
did not disguise their jealousy of me, I thought I
must look out for some greater security and
stronger support. So, to begin with, I have
brought the man who had been too long silent on my
achievements, Pompey himself, to such a frame of
mind as not once only in the senate, but many
times and in many words, to ascribe to me the
preservation of this empire and of the world. And
this was not so important to me—for
those transactions are neither so obscure as to
need and Pompey from a difference of opinion on
these measures. testimony, nor so dubious as to
need commendation—as to the Republic;
for there were certain persons base enough to
think that some misunderstanding would arise
between me with him I have united myself in such
close intimacy that both of us can by this union
be better fortified in his own views, and more
secure in his political position. However, the
dislike of the licentious dandies, which had been
roused against me, has been so far softened by a
Conciliatory manner on my part, that they all
combine to show me marked attention. In fine,
while avoiding churlishness to anyone, I do not
curry favour with the populace or relax any
principle; but my whole course of conduct is so
carefully regulated, that, while exhibiting an
example of firmness to the Republic, in my own
private concerns—in view of the
instability of the loyalists, the hostility of the
disaffected, and the hatred of the disloyal
towards me—I employ a certain caution
and circumspection, and do not allow myself, after
all, to be involved in these new friendships so
far but that the famous refrain of the cunning
Sicilian frequently sounds in my ears:
18
“
Keep sober and distrust these wisdom's
sinews!
” Of my course and way of life, therefore,
you see, I think, what may be called a sketch or
outline. Of your own business, however, you
frequently write to me, but I cannot at the moment
supply the remedy you require. For that decree of
the senate was passed with the greatest unanimity
on the part of the rank and file,
19
though without the support of any of us consulars.
For as to your seeing my name at the
foot of the decree, you can ascertain from the
decree itself that the subject put to the vote at
the time was a different one, and that this clause
about "free peoples" was added without good
reason. It was done by P. Servilius the younger,
20 who
delivered his vote among the last, but it cannot
be altered after such an interval of time.
Accordingly, the meetings, which at first were
crowded, have long ceased to be held. If you have
been able, notwithstanding, by your insinuating
address to get a trifle of money out of the
Sicyonians, I wish you would let me know.
21 I have sent
you an account of my consulship written in Greek.
If there is anything in it which to a genuine
Attic like yourself seems to be un-Greek or
unscholarly, I shall not say as Lucullus said to
you (at
Panhormus, was it not?) about his own
history, that he had interspersed certain
barbarisms and solecisms for the express purpose
of proving that it was the work of a Roman. No, if
there is anything of that sort in my book, it will
be without my knowledge and against my will. When
I have finished the Latin version I will send it
to you; and thirdly, you may expect a poem on the
subject, for I would not have any method of
celebrating my praise omitted by myself. In this
regard pray do not quote "Who will praise his
sire?"
22 For if there is anything in the world to
be preferred to this, let it receive its due meed
of praise, and I mine of blame for not selecting
another theme for my praise. However, what I write
is not panegyric but history. My brother Quintus
clears himself to me in a letter, and asserts that
he has never said a disparaging word of you to anyone. But this we must discuss face
to face with the greatest care and earnestness:
only do come to see me again at last! This
Cossinius, to whom I intrust my letter, seems to
me a very good fellow, steady, devoted to you, and
exactly the sort of man which your letter to me
had described.
15 March.
XXV (A I, 20)
TO ATTICUS (IN EPIRUS)
ROME, 13 MAY
On my return to
Rome from my villa at
Pompeii on the
12th of May, our friend Cincius handed me your
letter dated 13th February. It is this letter of
yours which I will now proceed to answer. And
first let me say how glad I am that you have fully
understood my appreciation of you;
23 and next how excessively rejoiced I
am that you have been so extremely reasonable in
regard to those particulars in which you thought
24 that I and mine had behaved unkindly, or
with insufficient consideration for your feelings:
and this I regard as a proof of no common
affection, and of the most excellent judgment and
wisdom. Wherefore, since you have written to me in
a tone so delightful, considerate, friendly and
kind, that I not only have no call to press you
any farther, but can never even hope to meet from
you or any other man with so much gentleness and
good nature, I think the very best course I can
pursue is not to say another word on the subject
in my letters. When we meet, if the occasion
should arise, we will discuss it together. As to
what you say about politics, your suggestions
indeed are both affectionate and
wise, and the course you suggest does not differ
substantially from my own policy—for I
must neither budge an inch from the position
imposed upon me by my rank, nor must I without
forces of my own enter the lines of another, while
that other, whom you mention in your letter, has
nothing large-minded about him, nothing lofty,
—nothing which is not abject and
time-serving. However, the course I took was,
after all, perhaps not ill-calculated for securing
the tranquillity of my own life; but, by heaven, I
did greater service to the Republic than, by
suppressing the attacks of the disloyal, I did to
myself, when I brought conviction home to the
wavering mind of a man of the most splendid
fortune, influence and popularity, and induced him
to disappoint the disloyal and praise my acts. Now
if I had been forced to sacrifice consistency in
this transaction, I should not have thought
anything worth that price; but the fact is that I
have so worked the whole business, that I did not
seem to be less consistent from my complacency to
him, but that he appeared to gain in character by
his approbation of me. In everything else I am so
acting, and shall continue so to act, as to
prevent my seeming to have done what I did do by
mere chance. My friends the loyalists, the men at
whom you hint, and that "
Sparta" which you
say has fallen to my lot,
25 I will not only never
desert, but even if I am deserted by her, I shall
still stand by my ancient creed. However, please
consider this, that since the death of Catulus I
am holding this road for the loyalists without any
garrison or Company. For as Rhinton, I think,
says: “
Some are stark naught, and some care not at
all.
”
26 However, how our
friends the fish-breeders
27 envy me I will
write you word another time, or will reserve it
till we meet. But from the senate-house nothing
shall ever tear me: either because that course is
the right one, or because it is most to my
interests, or because I am far from being
dissatisfied with the estimation in which I am
held by the senate. As to the
Sicyonians, as I wrote to you before,
28 there is
not much to be hoped for in the senate. For there
is no one now to lay a complaint before it.
Therefore, if you are waiting for that, you will
find it a tedious business. Fight some other way
if you can. At the time the decree was passed no
one noticed who would be affected by it, and
besides the rank and file of the senators voted in
a great hurry for that clause. For cancelling the
senatorial decree the time is not yet ripe,
because there are none to complain of it, and
because also many are glad to have it so, some
from spite, some from a notion of its equity. Your
friend Metellus is an admirable consul: I have
only one fault to find with him—he
doesn't receive the news from
Gaul of the
restoration of peace with much pleasure. He wants
a triumph, I suppose. I could have wished a little
less of that sort of thing: in other respects he
is splendid. But the son of Aulus behaves in such
a way, that his consulship is not a consulship but
a stigma on our friend Magnus. Of my writings I
send you my consulship in Greek completed. I have
handed that book to L. Cossinius. My Latin works I
think you like, but as a Greek you envy this Greek
book. If others write treatises on the subject I
will send them to you, but I assure you that, as
soon as they have read mine, somehow or other they
become slack. To return to my own affairs, L.
Papirius Paetus, an excellent man and an admirer
of mine, has presented me with the books left him
by Servius Claudius. As your friend Cincius told
me that I could take them without breaking the
lex Cincia,
29 I told
him that I should have great pleasure in accepting
them, if he brought them to
Italy. Wherefore, as
you love me, as you know that I love you, do try
by means of friends, clients, guests, or even your
freedmen or slaves, to prevent the loss of a
single leaf. For I am in urgent need of the Greek
books which I suspect, and of the Latin books
which I know, that he left: and more and more
every day I find repose in such studies every
moment left to me from my labours in the forum.
You will, I say, do me a very great favour, if you
will be as zealous in this matter as you ever are
in matters in which you suppose me to feel strongly; and Paetus's own affairs I
recommend to your kindness, for which he thanks
you extremely. A prompt visit from yourself is a
thing which I do not merely ask for, I advise it.
XXVI (A II, 1)
TO ATTICUS (IN GREECE)
ROME, JUNE
On the 1st of June, as I was on my way to
Antium, and eagerly getting out of
the way of M. Metellus's gladiators, your boy met
me, and delivered to me a letter from you and a
history of my consulship written in Greek.
30 This made me glad that I had some time
before delivered to L. Cossinius a book, also
written in Greek, on the same subject, to take to
you. For if I had read yours first you might have
said that I had pilfered from you. Although your
essay (which I have read with pleasure) seemed to
me just a trifle rough and bald, yet its very
neglect of ornament is an ornament in itself, as
women were once thought to have the best perfume
who used none. My book, on the other hand, has
exhausted the whole of Isocrates's unguent case,
and all the paint-boxes of his pupils, and even
Aristotle's colours. This, as you tell me in
another letter, you glanced over at
Corcyra, and
afterwards I suppose received it from Cossinius.
31 I should not have
ventured to send it to you until I had slowly and
fastidiously revised it. However, Posidonius, in
his letter of acknowledgment from
Rhodes, says that as
he read my memoir, which I had sent him with a
view to his writing on the same subject with more
elaboration, he was not only not incited to write,
but absolutely made afraid to do so. In a word, I
have routed the Greeks. Accordingly, as a general
rule, those who were pressing me for material to
work up, have now ceased to bother me. Pray, if
you like the book, see to there being copies at
Athens
and other Greek towns
32 for it may
possibly throw some lustre on my actions. As for
my poor speeches, I will send you both those you
ask for and some more also, since what I write to
satisfy the studious youth finds favour, it seems,
with you also. [For it suited my purpose
33
—both because it was in his Philippics
that your fellow citizen Demosthenes gained his
reputation, and because it was by withdrawing from
the mere controversial and forensic style of
oratory that he acquired the character of a
serious politician—to see that I too
should have speeches that may properly be called
consular. Of these are, first, one
delivered on the 1st of January in the senate, a
second to the people on the agrarian law, a third
on Otho, a fourth for Rabirius, a fifth on the
Sons of the Proscribed, a sixth when I declined a
province in public meeting, a seventh when I
allowed Catiline to escape, which I delivered the
day after Catiline fled, a ninth in public meeting
on the day that the Allobroges made their
revelation, a tenth in the senate on the 5th of
December. There are also two short ones, which may
be called fragments, on the agrarian law. This
whole cycle I will see that you have. And since
you like my writings as well as my actions, from
these same rolls you will learn both what I have
done and what I have said—or you should
not have asked for them, for I did not make you an
offer of them.]
You ask me
why I urge you to come home, and at the same time
you intimate that you are hampered by business
affairs, and yet say that you will nevertheless
hasten back, not only if it is needful, but even
if I desire it. Well, there is certainly no
absolute necessity, yet I do think you might plan
the periods of your tour somewhat more
conveniently. Your absence is too prolonged,
especially as you are in a neighbouring country,
while yet I cannot enjoy your society, nor you mine. For the present there is peace,
but if my young friend Puncher's
34 madness found
means to advance a little farther, I should
certainly summon you from your present sojourn.
But Metellus is offering him a splendid opposition
and will continue to do so. Need I say more? He is
a truly patriotic consul and, as I have ever
thought, naturally an honest man. That person,
however, makes no disguise, but avowedly desires
to be elected tribune. But when the matter was
mooted in the senate, I cut the fellow to pieces,
and taunted him with his changeableness in seeking
the tribuneship at
Rome after having given out at Hera,
in
Sicily,
35 that he
was a candidate for the aedileship; and went on to
say that we needn't much trouble ourselves, for
that he would not be permitted to ruin the
Republic any more as a plebeian, than patricians
like him had been allowed to do so in my
consulship. Presently, on his saying that he had
completed the journey from the straits in seven
days, and that it was impossible for anyone to
have gone out to meet him, and that he had entered
the city by night,
36 and making a great parade of
this in a public meeting, I remarked that that was
nothing new for him: seven days from
Sicily to
Rome, three hours
from
Rome to lnteramna !
37
Entered by night, did he? so he did before! No one
went to meet him? neither did anyone on the other
occasion, exactly when it should have been done!
In short, I bring our young upstart to his
bearings, not only by a set and serious speech,
but also by repartees of this sort. Accordingly, I
have come now to rally him and jest with him in
quite a familiar manner. For instance, when we
were escorting a candidate, he asked me "whether I
had been accustomed to secure Sicilians places at
the gladiatorial shows?" " No," said I. "Well, I
intend to start the practice," said he, "as their
new patron; but my sister,
38
who has the control of such a large
part of the consul's space, won't give me more
than a single foot." "Don't grumble," said I,
"about one of your sister's feet; you may lift the
other also." A jest, you will say, unbecoming to a
consular. I confess it, but I detest that
woman—so unworthy of a consul. For “
A shrew she is and with her husband jars,
” and not only with Metellus, but also with
Fabius,
39
because she is annoyed at their interference in
this business.
40 You ask about the
agrarian law: it has completely lost all interest,
I think. You rather chide me, though gently, about
my intimacy with Pompey. I would not have you
think that I have made friends with him for my own
protection; but things had come to such a pass
that, if by any chance we had quarreled, there
would inevitably have been violent dissensions in
the state. And in taking precautions and making
provision against that, I by no means swerved from
my well-known loyalist policy, but my object was
to make him more of a loyalist and induce him to
drop somewhat of his time-serving vacillation: and
he, let me assure you, now speaks in much higher
terms of my achievements (against which many had
tried to incite him) than of his own. He testifies
that while he served the state well, I preserved
it. What if I even make a better citizen of
Caesar,
41 who has now
the wind full in his sails—am I doing so
poor a service to the Republic? Furthermore, if
there was no one to envy me, if all, as they ought
to be, were my supporters, nevertheless a
preference should still be given to a treatment
that would cure the diseased parts of the state,
rather than to the use of the knife. As it is,
however, since the knighthood, which I once
stationed on the slope of the
Capitoline,
42 with you as their
standard-bearer and leader, has deserted the
senate, and since our leading men think themselves
in a seventh heaven, if there are bearded mullets
in their fish-ponds that will come to hand for
food, and neglect everything else, do not you
think that I am doing no mean service if I secure
that those who have the power, should not have the
will, to do any harm? As for our friend Cato, you
do not love him more than I do: but after all,
with the very best intentions and the most
absolute honesty, he sometimes does harm to the
Republic. He speaks and votes as though he were in
the Republic of Plato, not in the scum of Romulus.
What could be fairer than that a man should be
brought to trial who has taken a bribe for his
verdict? Cato voted for this: the senate agreed
with him. The equites declared war on the senate,
not on me, for I voted against it. What could be a
greater piece of impudence than the equites
renouncing the obligations of their contract? Yet
for the sake of keeping the friendship of the
order it was necessary to submit to the loss. Cato
resisted and carried his point. Accordingly,
though we have now had the spectacle of a consul
thrown into prison,
43 of riots again and
again stirred up, not one of those moved a finger
to help, with whose support I and the consuls that
immediately followed me were accustomed to defend
the Republic. "Well, but," say you, "are we to pay
them for their support?" What are we to do if we
can't get it on any other terms? Are we to be
slaves to freedmen or even slaves? But, as you
say, assez de
serieux! Favonius
44 carried
my tribe with better credit than his own; he lost
that of Lucceius. His accusation of Nasica
45 was not
creditable, but was conducted with moderation: he
spoke so badly that he appeared when in
Rhodes to have
ground at the mills more than at the lessons of
Molon.
46 He was somewhat angry with me
because I appeared for the defence: however, he is
now making up to me again on public grounds. I
will write you word how Lucceius is getting on
when I have seen Caesar, who will be here in a
couple of days. The injury done you by the
Sicyonians you attribute to Cato and his imitator
Servilius.
47 Why? did not that blow reach many
excellent citizens? But since the senate has so
determined, let us commend it, and not be in a
minority of one.
48 My "Amaltheia"
49 is waiting and longing for you. My
Tusculan and Pompeian properties please me
immensely, except that they have overwhelmed
me—me, the scourge of debt—not
exactly in Corinthian bronze, but in the bronze
which is current in the market.
50
In
Gaul I
hope peace is restored. My "Prognostics,"
51 along with my poor
speeches, expect shortly. Yet write and tell me
what your ideas are as to returning. For Pomponia
sent a message to me that you would be at
Rome
some time in July. That does not agree with your
letter which you wrote to me about your name being
put on the Census roll. Paetus, as I have already
told you, has presented me with all books left by
his brother. This gift of his depends upon your
seeing to it with care. Pray, if you love me, take
measures for their preservation and transmission
to me. You could do me no greater favour, and I
want the Latin books preserved with as much care
as the Greek. I shall look upon them as virtually
a present from yourself. I have written to
Octavius :
52 I had not said
anything to him about you by word of mouth; for I
did not suppose that you carried on your business
in that province, or look upon you in the light of
general money-lender: but I have written, as in
duty bound, with all seriousness.
XXVII (A II, 2)
TO ATTICUS (ON HIS WAY TO ROME)
TUSCULUM (DECEMBER)
Take care of my dear nephew Cicero, I beg of
you. I seem to share his illness. I am engaged on
the "Constitution of
Pellene," and,
by heaven, have piled up a huge heap of
Dicaearchus at my feet.
53 What a great man! You may learn much more
from him than from Procilius. His "Constitution of
Corinth" and "Constitution of
Athens
" I have, I think, at
Rome. Upon my word,
you will say, if you read these, "What a
remarkable man!" Herodes, if he had any sense,
would have read him rather than write a single
letter himself.
54 He has attacked me by letter;
with you I see he has come to close quarters. I
would have joined a conspiracy rather than
resisted one, if I had thought that I should have
to listen to him as my reward. As to Lollius, you
must be mad. As to the wine, I think you are
right.
55
But look here! Don't you see that the Kalends are
approaching, and no Antonius ?
56
That the jury is being empanelled? For so they
send me word. That Nigidius
57 threatens in
public meeting that he will personally cite any
juror who does not appear? However, I should be
glad if you would write me word whether you have
heard anything about the return of Antonius; and
since you don't mean to come here, dine with me in
any case on the 29th. Mind you do this, and take
care of your health.
XXVIII (A II, 3)
TO ATTICUS (ON HIS WAY TO
ROME）
ROME (DECEMBER)
First, I have good news for you, as I think.
Valerius has been acquitted. Hortensius was his
counsel. The verdict is thought to have been a
favour to Aulus's son; and Epicrates,"
58 I
suspect, has been up to some mischief. I didn't
like his boots and his white leggings.
59 What it is I shall know when you arrive.
When you find fault with the narrow windows, let
me tell you that you are criticising the
Cyropaedeia.
60 For when I made the same remark,
Cyrus used to answer that the views of the gardens
through broad lights were not so pleasant. For let
α be the eye,
βγ the object
seen,
δ and
ε the rays ... you
see the rest.
61 For if sight resulted from the impact of
images,
62 the images would be in great difficulties
with a narrow entrance: but, as it is, that
"effusion" of rays gets on quite nicely. If you
have any other fault to find you won't get off
without an answer, unless it is something that can
be put right without expense.
I now come to January and my
"political attitude," in which, after
the manner of the Socratics, I shall put the two
sides; at the end, however, as they were wont to
do, the one which I approve. It is, indeed, a
matter for profound refection. For I must either
firmly oppose the agrarian law—which
will involve a certain struggle, but a struggle
full of glory—or I must remain
altogether passive, which is about equivalent to
retiring to Solonium
63 or
Antium; or,
lastly, I must actually assist the bill, which I
am told Caesar fully expects from me without any
doubt. For Cornelius has been with me (I mean
Cornelius Balbus,
64 Caesar's
intimate), and solemnly assured me that he meant
to avail himself of my advice and Pompey's in
everything, and intended to endeavour to reconcile
Crassus with Pompey.
65 In this last course there are the
following advantages: a very close union with
Pompey, and, if I choose, with Caesar also; a
reconciliation with my political enemies, peace
with the common herd, ease for my old age. But the
conclusion of the third book of my own poem has a
strong hold on me: “
Meanwhile the tenor of thy youth's first
spring,
Which still as consul thou with all thy
soul
And all thy manhood heldest, see thou keep,
And swell the chorus of all good men's
praise.
”
66 These verses
Calliope herself dictated to me in that book,
which contains much written in an "aristocratic"
spirit, and I cannot, therefore, doubt that I
shall always hold that “
The best of omens is our country's cause.
”
67 But let us reserve all this for
our walks during the Compitalia.
68 Remember the day before the
Compitalia. I will order the bath to be heated,
and Terentia is going to invite Pomponia. We will
add your mother to the party. Please bring me
Theophrastus
de Ambitione from my
brother's library.
XXIX (Q FR I, 1)
TO HIS BROTHER QUINTUS (IN ASIA)
ROME (DECEMBER)
Though I have no
doubt that many messengers,
69 and
even common rumour, with its usual speed, will
anticipate this letter, and that you will already
have heard from others that a third year has been
added to my loss and your labour, yet I thought
you ought to receive from me also the news of this
tiresome circumstance. For not in one, but in
several of my previous letters, in spite of others
having given up the idea in despair, I gave you
hope of being able at an early date to quit your
province, not only that I might as
long as possible cheer you with a pleasurable
belief, but also because I and the praetors took
such pains in the matter, that I felt no misgiving
as to the possibility of its being arranged. As it
is, since matters have so turned out that neither
the praetors by the weight of their influence, nor
I by my earnest efforts, have been able to
prevail, it is certainly difficult not to be
annoyed, yet our minds, practised as they are in
conducting and supporting business of the utmost
gravity, ought not to be crushed or weakened by
vexation. And since men ought to feel most vexed
at what has been brought upon them by their own
fault, it is I who ought in this matter to be more
vexed than you. For it is the result of a fault on
my part, against which you had protested both in
conversation at the moment of your departure, and
in letters since, that your successor was not
named last year. In this, while consulting for the
interests of our allies, and resisting the
shameless conduct of some merchants, and while
seeking the increase of our reputation by your
virtues, I acted unwisely, especially as I made it
possible for that second year to entail a third.
And as I confess the mistake to have been mine, it
lies with your wisdom and kindness to remedy it,
and to see that my imprudence is turned to
advantage by your careful performance of your
duties. And truly, if you exert yourself in every
direction to earn men's good word, not with a view
to rival others, but henceforth to surpass
yourself, if you rouse your whole mind and your
every thought and care to the ambition of gaining
a superior reputation in all respects, believe me,
one year added to your labour will bring us, nay,
our posterity also, a joy of many years' duration.
Wherefore I begin by entreating you not to let
your soul shrink and be cast down, nor to allow
yourself to be overpowered by the magnitude of the
business as though by a wave; but, on the
contrary, to stand upright and keep your footing,
or even advance to meet the flood of affairs. For
you are not administering a department of the
state, in which fortune reigns supreme, but one in
which a well-considered policy and an attention to
business are the most important things. But if I
had seen you receiving the prolongation of a
command in a great and dangerous war, I should
have trembled in spirit, because I should have known that the dominion of fortune over
us had been at the same time prolonged. As it is,
however, a department of the state has been
entrusted to you in which fortune occupies no
part, or, at any rate, an insignificant one, and
which appears to me to depend entirely on your
virtue and self-control. We have no reason to
fear, as far as I know, any designs of our
enemies, any actual fighting in the field, any
revolts of allies, any default in the tribute or
in the supply of corn, any mutiny in the army:
things which have very often befallen the wisest
of men in such a way, that they have been no more
able to get the better of the assault of been
granted profound peace, a dead calm: yet if the
pilot fortune, than the best of pilots a violent
tempest. You have falls asleep, it may even so
overwhelm him, though if he keeps awake it may
give him positive pleasure. For your province
consists, in the first place, of allies of a race
which; of all the world, is the most civilized;
and, in the second place, of Citizens, who, either
as being
publicani
are very closely connected with me, or, as being
traders who have made money, think that they owe
the security of their property to my consulship.
[
2]
But it may be
said that among even such men as these there occur
serious disputes, many wrongful acts are
committed, and hotly contested litigation is the
result. As though I ever thought that you had no
trouble to contend with! I know that the trouble
is exceedingly great, and such as demands the very
greatest prudence; but remember that it is
prudence much more than fortune on which, in my
opinion, the result of your trouble depends. For
what trouble is it to govern those over whom you
are set, if you do but govern yourself? That may
be a great and difficult task to others, and
indeed it is most difficult: to you it has always
been the easiest thing in the world, and indeed
ought to be so, for your natural disposition is
such that, even without discipline, it appears
capable of self-control; whereas a discipline has,
in fact, been applied that might educate the most
faulty of characters. But while you resist, as you
do, money, pleasure, and every kind of desire
yourself, there will, I am to be told, be a risk
of your not being able to suppress some fraudulent
banker or some rather over-extortionate
tax-collector! For as to the Greeks, they will
think, as they behold the innocence of your life, that one of the heroes of their
history, or a demigod from heaven, has come down
into the province. And this I say, not to induce
you to act thus, but to make you glad that you are
acting or have acted so. It is a splendid thing to
have been three years in supreme power in
Asia
without allowing statue, picture, plate, napery,
slave, anyone's good looks, or any offer of
money—all of which are plentiful in your
province—to cause you to swerve from the
most absolute honesty and purity of life. What can
be imagined so striking or so desirable as that a
virtue, a command over the passions, a
self-control such as yours, are not remaining in
darkness and obscurity, but have been set in the
broad daylight of
Asia, before the eyes of a famous
province, and in the hearing of all nations and
peoples? That the inhabitants are not being ruined
by your progresses, drained by your charges,
agitated by your approach? That there is the
liveliest joy, public and private, wheresoever you
come, the city regarding you as a protector and
not a tyrant, the private house as a guest and not
a plunderer?
[
3]
But in these matters I am sure that mere
experience has by this time taught you that it is
by no means sufficient to have these virtues
yourself, but that you must keep your eyes open
and vigilant, in order that in the guardianship of
your province you may be considered to vouch to
the allies, the citizens, and the state, not for
yourself alone, but for all the subordinates of
your government. However, you have in the persons
of your
legati men
likely to have a regard for their own reputation.
Of these in rank, position, and age Tubero is
first; who, I think, particularly as he is a
writer of history, could select from his own
Annals many whom he would like and would be able
to imitate. Allienus, again, is ours, as well in
heart and affection, as in his conformity to our
principles. I need not speak of Gratidius: I am
sure that, while taking pains to preserve his own
reputation, his fraternal affection for us makes
him take pains for ours also.
70 Your
quaestor is not of your own selection, but the one
assigned you by lot. He is bound both to act with
propriety of his own accord, and to
conform to the policy and principles which you lay
down. But should any one of these adopt a lower
standard of conduct, you should tolerate such
behaviour, if it goes no farther than a breach, in
his private capacity, of the rules by which he was
bound, but not if it goes to the extent of
employing for gain the authority which you granted
him as a promotion. For I am far from thinking,
especially since the moral sentiments of the day
are so much inclined to excessive laxity and
self-seeking, that you should investigate every
case of petty misconduct, and thoroughly examine
every one of these persons; but that you should
regulate your confidence by the trustworthiness of
its recipient. And among such persons you will
have to vouch for those whom the Republic has
itself given you as companions and assistants in
public affairs, at least within the limits which I
have before laid down.
[
4]
In the case, however, of those of your personal
staff or official attendants whom you have
yourself selected to be about you—who
are usually spoken of as a kind of praetor's
cohort—we must vouch, not only for their
acts, but even for their words. But those you have
with you are the sort of men of whom you may
easily be fond when they are acting rightly, and
whom you may very easily check when they show
insufficient regard for your reputation. By these,
when you were raw to the work, your frank
disposition might possibly have been
deceived—for the better a man is the
less easily does he suspect others of being
bad—now, however, let this third year
witness an integrity as perfect as the two former,
but still more wary and vigilant. Listen to that
only which you are supposed to listen to; don't
let your ears be open to whispered falsehoods and
interested suggestions. Don't let your signet ring
be a mere implement, but, as it were, your second
self: not the minister of another's will, but a
witness of your own. Let your marshal hold the
rank which our ancestors wished him to hold, who,
looking upon this place as not one of profit, but
of labour and duty, scarcely ever conferred it
upon any but their freedmen, whom they indeed
controlled almost as absolutely as their slaves.
Let the lictor be the dispenser of your clemency,
not his own; and let the fasces and axes which
they carry before you constitute ensigns rather of
rank than of power. Let it, in fact,
be known to the whole province that the life,
children, fame, and fortunes of all over whom you
preside are exceedingly dear to you. Finally, let
it be believed that you will, if you detect it, be
hostile not only to those who have accepted a
bribe, but to those also who have given it. And,
indeed, no one will give anything, if it is made
quite clear that nothing is usually obtained from
you through those who pretend to be very
influential with you. Not, however, that the
object of this discourse is to make you over-harsh
or suspicious towards your staff. For if any of
them in the course of the last two years has never
fallen under suspicion of rapacity, as I am told
about Caesius and Chaerippus and
Labeo—and think it true, because I know
them—there is no authority, I think,
which may not be entrusted to them, and no
confidence which may not be placed in them with
the utmost propriety, and in anyone else like
them. But if there is anyone of whom you have
already had reason to doubt, or concerning whom
you have made some discovery, in such a man place
no confidence, intrust him with no particle of
your reputation. V. If, however, you have found in
the province itself anyone, hitherto unknown to
us, who has made his way into intimacy with you,
take care how much confidence you repose in him;
not that there may not be many good provincials,
but, though we may hope so, it is risky to be
positive. For everyone's real character is covered
by many wrappings of pretence and is concealed by
a kind of veil: face, eyes, expression very often
lie, speech most often of all. Wherefore, how can
you expect to find in that class
71 any who,
while foregoing for the sake of money all from
which we can scarcely tear ourselves away,
72 will yet love you sincerely and not merely
pretend to do so from interested motives? I think,
indeed, it is a hard task to find such men,
especially if we notice that the same persons care
nothing for almost any man out of office, yet
always with one consent show affection for the
praetors. But of this class, if by chance you have
discovered any one to be fonder of
you—for it may so happen—than
of your office, such a man indeed gladly admit
upon your list of friends: but if you
fail to perceive that, there is no Class of people
you must be more on your guard against admitting
to intimacy, just because they are acquainted with
all the ways of making money, do everything for
the sake of it, and have no consideration for the
reputation of a man with whom they are not
destined to pass their lives. And even among the
Greeks themselves you must be on your guard
against admitting close intimacies, except in the
case of the very few, if such are to be found, who
are worthy of ancient
Greece. As things now stand, indeed,
too many of them are untrustworthy, false, and
schooled by long servitude in the arts of
extravagant adulation. My advice is that these men
should all be entertained with courtesy, but that
close ties of hospitality or friendship should
only be formed with the best of them: excessive
intimacies with them are not very
trustworthy—for they do not venture to
oppose our wishes—and they are not only
jealous of our countrymen, but of their own as
well. VI. And now, considering the caution and
care that I would show in matters of this
kind—in which I fear I may be somewhat
over-severe—what do you suppose my
sentiments are in regard to slaves? Upon these we
ought to keep a hold in all places, but especially
in the provinces. On this head many rules may be
laid down, but this is at once the shortest and
most easily maintained—that they should
behave during your progresses in
Asia as though you
were travelling on the Appian way, and not suppose
that it makes any difference whether they have
arrived at
Tralles or
Formiae. But if,
again, any one of your slaves is conspicuously
trustworthy, employ him in your domestic and
private affairs; but in affairs pertaining to your
office as governor, or in any department of the
state, do not let him lay a finger. For many
things which may, with perfect propriety, be
in-trusted to slaves, must yet not be so
entrusted, for the sake of avoiding talk and
hostile remark. But my discourse, I know not how,
has slipped into the didactic vein, though that is
not what I proposed to myself originally. For what
right have I to be laying down rules for one who,
I am fully aware, in this subject especially, is
not my inferior in wisdom, while in experience he
is even my superior? Yet, after all, if your
actions had the additional weight of my approval,
I thought that they would seem more
satisfactory to yourself. Wherefore, let these be
the foundations on which your public character
rests: first and foremost your own honesty and
self-control, then the scrupulous conduct of all
your staff, the exceedingly cautious and careful
selection in regard to intimacies with provincials
and Greeks, the strict and unbending government of
your slaves. These are creditable even in the
conduct of our private and everyday business: in
such an important government, where morals are so
debased and the province has such a corrupting
influence, they must needs seem divine. Such
principles and conduct on your part are sufficient
to justify the strictness which you have displayed
in some acts of administration, owing to which I
have encountered certain personal disputes with
great satisfaction, unless, indeed, you suppose me
to be annoyed by the complaints of a fellow like
Paconius—who is not even a Greek, but in
reality a Mysian or Phrygian—or by the
words of Tuscenius, a madman and a knave, from
whose abominable jaws you snatched the fruits of a
most infamous piece of extortion with the most
complete justice.
[
7]
These and similar instances of your strict
administration in your province we shall find
difficulty in justifying, unless they are
accompanied by the most perfect integrity:
wherefore let there be the greatest strictness in
your administration of justice, provided only that
it is never varied from favour, but is kept up
with impartiality. But it is of little avail that
justice is administered by yourself with
impartiality and care, unless the same is done by
those to whom you have entrusted any portion of
this duty. And, indeed, in my view there is no
very great variety of business in the government
of
Asia:
the entire province mainly depends on the
administration of justice. In it we have the whole
theory of government, especially of provincial
government, clearly displayed: all that a governor
has to do is to show consistency and firmness
enough, not only td resist favouritism, but even
the suspicion of it. To this also must be added
courtesy in listening to pleaders, consideration
in pronouncing a decision, and painstaking efforts
to convince suitors of its justice, and to answer
their arguments. It is by such habits that C.
Octavius has recently made himself
very popular;
73
in whose court, for the first time,
74 the lictor did not
interfere, and the marshal kept silence, while
every suitor spoke as often and as long as he
chose. In which conduct he would perhaps have been
thought over-lax, had it not been that this laxity
enabled him to maintain the following in stance of
severity. The partisans of Sulla were forced to
restore what they had taken by violence and
terrorism. Those who had made inequitable decrees;
while in office, were now as private citizens
forced to submit to the principles they had
established. This strictness on his part would
have been thought harsh, had it not been rendered
palatable by many sweetening influences of
courtesy. But if this gentleness was sufficient to
make him popular at
Rome, where there is such haughtiness
of spirit, such unrestrained liberty, such
unlimited licence of individuals, and, in fine, so
many magistrates, so many means of obtaining
protection, such vast power in the hands of the
popular assembly, and such influence exercised by
the senate, how welcome must a praetor's courtesy
be in
Asia, in which there is such a
numerous body of citizens and allies, so many
cities, so many communities, all hanging on one
man's nod, and in which there are no means of
protection, no one to whom to make a complaint, no
senate, no popular assembly! Wherefore it requires
an exalted character, a man who is not only
equitable from natural impulse, but who has also
been trained by study and the refinements of a
liberal education, so to conduct himself while in
the possession of such immense power, that those
over whom he rules should not feel the want of any
other power.
[
8]
Take the case of the famous Cyrus, portrayed by
Xenophon, not as an historical character, but as a
model of righteous government, the serious dignity
of whose character is represented by that
philosopher as combined with a peculiar courtesy.
And, indeed, it is not without reason that our
hero Africanus used perpetually to have those
books in his hands, for there is no duty
pertaining to a careful and equitable governor
which is not to be found in them. Well, if he cultivated those qualities, though never
destined to be in a private station, how carefully
ought those to maintain them to whom power is
given with the understanding that it must be
surrendered, and given by laws under whose
authority they must once more come? In my opinion
all who govern others are bound to regard as the
object of all their actions the greatest happiness
of the governed. That this is your highest object,
and has been so since you first landed in
Asia, has
been published abroad by Consistent rumour and the
conversation of all. It is, let me add, not only
the duty of one who governs allies and citizens,
but even of one who governs slaves and dumb
animals, to serve the interests and advantage of
those under him. In this point I notice that
everyone agrees that you take the greatest pains:
no new debt is being contracted by the states,
while many have been relieved by you from a heavy
and long-standing one. Several cities that had
become dilapidated and almost
deserted—of which one was the most
famous state in
Ionia, the other in
Caria, Samus and
Halicarnassus—have been given a new life
by you: there is no party fighting, no civil
strife in the towns: you take care that the
government of the states is administered by the
best class of citizens: brigandage is abolished in
Mysia;
murder suppressed in many districts; peace is
established throughout the province; and not only
the robberies usual on highways and in country
places, but those more numerous and more serious
ones in towns and temples, have been completely
stopped: the fame, fortunes, and repose of the
rich have been relieved of that most oppressive
instrument of praetorial rapacity-vexatious
prosecution; the expenses and tribute of the
states are made to fall with equal weight on all
who live in the territories of those states:
access to you is as easy as possible: your ears
are open to the complaints of all: no man's want
of means or want of friends excludes him, I don't
say from access to you in public and on the
tribunal, but -even from your house and chamber:
in a word, throughout your government there is no
harshness or cruelty-everywhere clemency,
mildness, and kindness reign supreme.
[
9]
What an immense benefit, again, have you done
in having liberated
Asia from the tribute exacted by the
aediles, a measure which cost me some violent
controversies! For if one of our
nobles complains openly that by your edict, "No
moneys shall be voted for the games," you have
robbed him of 200 sestertia, what a vast sum of
money would have been paid, had a grant been made
to the Credit of every magistrate who held games,
as had become the regular custom! However, I
stopped these Complaints by taking up this
position—what they think of it in
Asia I
don't know, in
Rome it meets with no little approval
and praise—I refused to accept a sum of
money which the states had decreed for a temple
and monument in our honour, though they had done
so with the greatest enthusiasm in view both of my
services and of your most valuable benefactions;
and though the law contained a special and
distinct exception in these words, "that it was
lawful to receive for temple or monument"; and
though again the money was not going to be thrown
away, but would be employed on decorating a
temple, and would thus appear to have been given
to the Roman people and gift in its favour, I
determined that I must not accept it, for the
immortal Gods rather than to myself—yet,
in spite of its having desert, law, and the wishes
of those who offered the this reason among others,
namely, to prevent those, to whom such an honour
was neither due nor legal, from being jealous.
Wherefore adhere with all your heart and soul to
the policy which you have hitherto
adopted—that of being devoted to those
whom the senate and people of
Rome have committed
and entrusted to your honour and authority, of
doing your best to protect them, and of desiring
their greatest happiness. Even if the lot had made
you governor of Africans, or Spaniards, or
Gauls—uncivilized and barbarous
nations—it would still have been your
duty as a man of feeling to consult for their
interests and advantage, and to have contributed
to their safety. But when we rule over a race of
men in which civilization not only exists, but
from which it is believed to have spread to
others, we are bound to repay them, above all
things, what we received from them. For I shall
not be ashamed to go so far—especially
as my life and achievements have been such as to
exclude any suspicion of sloth or
frivolity—as to confess that, whatever I
have accomplished, I have accomplished by means of
those studies and principles which have been
transmitted to us in Greek literature and schools
of thought. Wherefore, over and above the general good faith which is due to all
men, I think we are in a special sense under an
obligation to that nation, to put in practice what
it has taught us among the very men by whose
maxims we have been brought out of barbarism.
[
10]
And indeed Plato, the fountain-head of genius
and learning, thought that states would only be
happy when scholars and philosophers began being
their rulers, or when those who were their rulers
had devoted all their attention to learning and
philosophy. It was plainly this union of power and
philosophy that in his opinion might prove the
salvation of states. And this perhaps has at
length fallen to the fortune of the whole empire:
certainly it has in the present instance to your
province, to have a man in supreme power in it,
who has from boyhood spent the chief part of his
zeal and time in imbibing the principles of
philosophy, virtue, and humanity. Wherefore be
careful that this third year, which has been added
to your labour, may be thought a prolongation of
prosperity to
Asia. And since
Asia was more
fortunate in retaining you than I was in my
endeavour to bring you back, see that my regret is
softened by the exultation of the province. For if
you have displayed the very greatest activity in
earning honours such as, I think, have never been
paid to anyone else, much greater ought your
activity to be in preserving these honours. What I
for my part think of honours of that kind I have
told you in previous letters. I have always
regarded them, if given indiscriminately, as of
little value, if paid from interested motives, as
worthless: if, however, as in this case, they are
tributes to solid services on your part, I hold
you bound to take much pains in preserving them.
Since, then, you are exercising supreme power and
official authority in cities, in which you have
before your eyes the consecration and apotheosis
of your virtues, in all decisions, decrees, and
official acts consider what you owe to those warm
opinions entertained of you, to those verdicts on
your character, to those honours which have been
rendered you. And what you owe will be to consult
for the interests of all, to remedy men's
misfortunes, to provide for their safety, to
resolve that you will be both called and believed
to be the "father of
Asia."
[
11]
However, to such a resolution and deliberate
policy on your part the great obstacle are the
publicani: for, if
we oppose them, we shall alienate
from ourselves and from the Republic an order
which has done us most excellent service, and
which has been brought into sympathy with the
Republic by our means; if, on the other hand, we
comply with them in every case, we shall allow the
complete ruin of those whose interests, to say
nothing of their preservation, we are bound to
consult. This is the one difficulty, if we look
the thing fairly in the face, in your whole
government. For disinterested conduct on one's own
part, the suppression of all inordinate desires,
the keeping a check upon one's staff, courtesy in
hearing causes, in listening to and admitting
suitor—all this is rather a question of
credit than of difficulty: for it does not depend
on any special exertion, but rather on a mental
resolve and inclination. But how much bitterness
of feeling is caused to allies by that question of
the
publicani we have
had reason to know in the case of citizens who,
when recently urging the removal of the port-dues
in
Italy,
did not complain so much of the dues themselves,
as of certain extortionate conduct on the part of
the collectors. Wherefore, after hearing the
grievances of citizens in
Italy, I can
comprehend what happens to allies in distant
lands. To conduct oneself in this matter in such a
way as to satisfy the
publicani especially when contracts
have been undertaken at a loss, and yet to
preserve the allies from ruin, seems to demand a
virtue with something divine in it, I mean a
virtue like yours. To begin with, that they are
subject to tax at all, which is their greatest
grievance, ought not to be thought so by the
Greeks, because they were so subject by their own
laws without the Roman government. Again, they
cannot despise the word
publicanus, for they have been unable
to pay the assessment according to Sulla's
poll-tax without the aid of the publican. But that
Greek
publicani are
not more considerate in exacting the payment of
taxes than our own may be gathered from the fact
that the Caunii, and all the islands assigned to
the Rhodians by Sulla, recently appealed to the
protection of the senate, and petitioned to be
allowed to pay their tax to us rather than to the
Rhodians. Wherefore neither ought those to revolt
at the name of a
publicanus who have always been subject
to tax, nor those to despise it who have been
unable to make up the tribute by themselves, nor those to refuse his services who have
asked for them. At the same time let
Asia reflect on
this, that if she were not under our government,
there is no calamity of foreign war or internal
strife from which she would be free. And since
that government cannot possibly be maintained
without taxes, she should be content to purchase
perpetual peace and tranquillity at the price of a
certain proportion of her products.
[
12]
But if they will fairly reconcile themselves to
the existence and name of publican, all the rest
may be made to appear to them in a less offensive
light by your skill and prudence. They may, in
making their bargains with the
publicani, not have regard so much to
the exact conditions laid down by the censors as
to the convenience of settling the business and
freeing themselves from farther trouble. You also
may do, what you have done splendidly and are
still doing, namely, dwell on the high position of
the
publicani, and on
your obligations to that order, in such a way
as—putting out of the question all
considerations of your
imperium and the power of your official
authority and dignity—to reconcile the
Greeks with the
publicani; and to beg of those, whom
you have served eminently well, and who owe you
everything, to suffer you by their compliance to
maintain and preserve the bonds which unite us
with the
publicani.
But why do I address these exhortations to you,
who are not only capable of carrying them out of
your own accord without anyone's instruction, but
have already to a great extent thoroughly done so?
For the most respectable and important companies
do not cease offering me thanks daily, and this is
all the more gratifying to me because the Greeks
do the same. Now it is an achievement of great
difficulty to unite in feeling things which are
opposite in interests, aims, and, I had almost
said, in their very nature. But I have not written
all this to instruct you—for your wisdom
requires no man's instruction—but it has
been a pleasure to me while writing to set down
your virtues, though I have run to greater length
in this letter than I could have wished, or than I
thought I should.
[
13]
There is one thing on which I shall not cease
from giving you advice, nor will I, as far as in
me lies, allow your praise to be spoken of with a
reservation. For all who come from
your province do make one reservation in the
extremely high praise which they bestow on your
virtue, integrity, and kindness—it is
that of sharpness of temper. That is a fault
which, even in our private and everyday life,
seems to indicate want of solidity and strength of
mind; but nothing, surely, can be more improper
than to combine harshness of temper with the
exercise of supreme power. Wherefore I will not
undertake to lay before you now what the greatest
philosophers say about anger, for I should not
wish to be tedious, and you can easily ascertain
it yourself from the writings of many of them: but
I don't think I ought to pass over what is the
essence of a letter, namely, that the recipient
should be informed of what he does not know. Well,
what nearly everybody reports to me is this: they
usually say that, as long as you are not out of
temper, nothing can be pleasanter than you are,
but that when some instance of dishonesty or
wrong-headedness has stirred you, your temper
rises to such a height that no one Can discover
any trace of your usual kindness. Wherefore, since
no mere desire for glory, but circumstances and
fortune have brought us upon a path of life which
makes it inevitable that men will always talk
about us, let us be on our guard, to the utmost of
our means and ability, that no glaring fault may
be alleged to have existed in us. And I am not now
urging, what is perhaps difficult in human nature
generally, and at our time of life especially,
that you should change your disposition and
suddenly pluck out a deeply-rooted habit, but I
give you this hint: if you cannot completely avoid
this failing, because your mind is surprised by
anger before cool calculation has been able to
prevent it, deliberately prepare yourself
beforehand, and daily reflect on the duty of
resisting anger, and that, when it moves your
heart most violently, it is just the time for
being most careful to restrain your tongue. And
that sometimes seems to me to be a. greater virtue
than not being angry at all. For the latter is not
always a mark of superiority to weakness, it is
sometimes the result of dullness; but to govern
temper and speech, however angry you may be, or
even to hold your tongue and keep your indignant
feelings and resentment under control, although it
may not be a proof of perfect wisdom, yet requires
no ordinary force of character. And,
indeed, in this respect they tell me that you are
now much more gentle and less irritable. No
violent outbursts of indignation on your part, no
abusive words, no insulting language are reported
to me: which, while quite alien to culture and
refinement, are specially unsuited to high power
and place. For if your anger is implacable, it
amounts to extreme harshness; if easily appeased,
to extreme weakness. The latter, however, as a
choice of evils, is, after all, preferable to
harshness.
[
14]
But since your first year gave rise to most
talk in regard to this particular
complaint—I believe because the
wrong-doing, the covetousness, and the arrogance
of men came upon you as a surprise, and seemed to
you unbearable-while your second year was much
milder, because habit and refection, and, as I
think, my letters also, rendered you more tolerant
and gentle, the third ought to be so completely
reformed, as not to give even the smallest ground
for anyone to find fault. And here I go on to urge
upon you, not by way of exhortation or admonition,
but by brotherly entreaties, that you would set
your whole heart, care, and thought on the gaining
of praise from everybody and from every quarter.
If, indeed, our achievements were only the subject
of a moderate amount of talk and commendation,
nothing eminent, nothing beyond the practice of
others, would have been demanded of you. As it is,
however, owing to the brilliancy and magnitude of
the affairs in which we have been engaged, if we
do not obtain the very highest reputation from
your province, it seems scarcely possible for us
to avoid the most violent abuse. Our position is
such that all loyalists support us, but demand
also and expect from us every kind of activity and
virtue, while all the disloyal, seeing that we
have entered upon a lasting war with them, appear
contented with the very smallest excuse for
attacking us. Wherefore, since fortune has
allotted to you such a theatre as
Asia, completely
packed with an audience, of immense size, of the
most refined judgment, and, moreover, naturally so
capable of conveying sound, that its expressions
of opinion and its remarks reach
Rome, put out all
your power, I beseech you, exert all your energies
to appear not only to have been worthy of the part
we played here, but to have surpassed everything
done there by your high qualities.
[
15]
And since chance has assigned to me among the
magistracies the Conduct of public business in the
city, to you that in a province, if my share is
inferior to no one's, take care that yours
surpasses others. At the same time think of this:
we are not now working for a future and
prospective glory, but are fighting in defence of
what has been already gained; which indeed it was
not so much an object to gain as it is now our
duty to defend. And if anything in me could be
apart from you, I should desire nothing more than
the position which I have already gained. The
actual fact, however, is that unless all your acts
and deeds in your province correspond to my
achievements, I shall think that I have gained
nothing by those great labours and dangers, in all
of which you have shared. But if it was you who,
above all others, assisted me to gain a most
splendid reputation, you will certainly also
labour more than others to enable me to retain it.
You must not be guided by the opinions and
judgments of the present generation only, but of
those to come also: and yet the latter will be a
more candid judgment, for it will not be
influenced by detraction and malice. Finally, you
should think of this—that you are not
seeking glory for yourself alone (and even if that
were the case, you still ought not to be careless
of it, especially as you had determined to
consecrate the memory of your name by the most
splendid monuments), but you have to share it with
me, and to hand it down to our children. In regard
to which you must be on your guard lest by any
excess of carelessness you should seem not only to
have neglected your own interests, but to have
begrudged those of your family also.
[
16]
And these observations are not made with the
idea of any speech of mine appearing to have
roused you from your sleep, but to have rather
"added speed to the runner. For you will continue
to compel all in the future, as you have compelled
them in the past, to praise your equity,
self-control, strictness, and honesty. But from my
extreme affection I am possessed with a certain
insatiable greed for glory for you. However, I am
convinced that, as
Asia should now be as well-known to
you as each man's own house is to himself, and
since to your supreme good sense such great
experience has now been added, there is nothing
that affects reputation which you do not know as
well as possible yourself, and which
does not daily occur to your mind without
anybody's exhortation. But I, who when I read your
writing seem to hear your voice, and when I write
to you seem to be talking to you, am therefore
always best pleased with your longest letter, and
in writing am often somewhat prolix myself. My
last prayer and advice to you is that, as good
poets and painstaking actors always do, so you
should be most attentive in the last scenes and
conclusion of your function and business, so that
this third year of your government, like a third
act in a play, may appear to have been the most
elaborated and most highly finished. You will do
that with more ease if you will think that I, whom
you always wished to please more than all the
world besides, am always at your side, and am
taking part in everything you say and do. It
remains only to beg you to take the greatest care
of your health, if you wish me and all your
friends to be well also. Farewell.
