B.C. 68. Coss., L. CÆcilius Metellus, Q. Marcius Rex. This opening of the correspondence finds Cicero, now in his thirty-ninth year, in the midst of his official career. He had already been quÆstor (B.C. 75) and Ædile (B.C. 69), and was looking forward to his election to the prÆtorship in the next year (B.C. 67). He had already risen almost to the highest place in his profession as advocate, and had partly delivered, partly published his great indictment of Verres only a year ago. He is married to Terentia (B.C. 80), and has one daughter, Tullia or Tulliola, born on August 5, probably the next year (B.C. 79). His intimacy with T. Pomponius Atticus (three years his senior), perhaps begun at school, had lasted at least eleven years, from the time when he met him at Athens (B.C. 79), and with him had been initiated in the Eleusinian mysteries (de Leg. 2, § 36). There too they had both seen much of the writer's cousin Lucius, whose death he deplores in this letter (de Fin. 5, § 1). Atticus had lived abroad in Athens and Epirus, with occasional visits home from B.C. 88 to B.C. 65, in which latter year he seems to have returned for a more lengthened stay (Nep. Att. 4). The two friends have already corresponded frequently, but this is the first letter preserved. TO ATTICUS (AT ATHENS)RomeB.C. 68, ÆT. 38 We are such intimate friends that more than almost anyone else you can appreciate the grief as well as the actual public and private loss that the death of my cousin Lucius is to me. There is absolutely no gratification which any human being can receive from the kindly character of another that I have not been accustomed to receive from him. I am sure, therefore, that you will share my grief. For, in the first place, whatever affects me affects you; and in the second place, you have yourself lost in him a friend and connexion of the highest character and most obliging As to what you say in your letter about your sister, As to the frequency of my letters you have no ground for your complaint. The fact is our good sister Pomponia never informed me of there being a courier ready to take a letter. Farthermore, I never chanced to know of anyone going to Epirus, Again, as to the business of Acutilius which you had left in my hands. I had settled it on my first visit to Rome after your departure. But it turned out that, in the first place, there was no urgency in the matter, and, in the second place, as I felt confidence in your judgment, I preferred that PeducÆus As to what you say in your letter, "Even if anyone is inclined to be offended with you, I ought to bring him to a better mind"—I understand to what you allude, and I have not neglected the matter. But the truth is that the extent of his displeasure is something surprising. However, I have not omitted to say anything there was to say in your behalf: but on what points I am to hold out your wishes, I consider, ought to be my guide. If you will write me word distinctly what they are, you will find that I have had no desire to be more exacting, and in the future shall be no more yielding, than you wish. As to the business of Tadius. He tells me that you have written him word that there was no need of farther trouble, since the property is secured by prescription. I am surprised that you do not know that in the case of a statutory wardship of an unmarried girl prescription cannot be pleaded. I am glad you like your purchase in Epirus. What I commissioned you to get for me, and anything you see suitable to my Tusculan villa, I should be glad if you will, as you say in your letter, procure for me, only don't put yourself to any inconvenience. The truth is, there is no other place that gives me complete rest after all my worries and hard work. I am expecting my brother Quintus every day. Terentia has a severe attack of rheumatism. She is devoted to you, to your sister, and your mother, and adds her kindest regards in a postscript. So does my pet Tulliola. Love me, and be assured that I love you as a brother. |