Book 4, Letter 18, part 1 of 2, on the final letters

 

Dear Cicero,

I finished reading all your letters yesterday. Today is Father's Day here in Australia. (I wrote this letter back in September, 2020). It feels symbolic, but I'm not sure how. I can feel my relationship with you changing, as all relationships do. I've lived with you as my constant companion for over two years now, you have been the yardstick of my daily life, and though I still have two of your books and some of your speeches to read, I can see the edge of destiny approaching. I set out to read every single piece of your writing, and to document my journey through these letters, and with you at my side, I have studied many other writers, a great deal of whom you introduced me to. I had not read Aristotle until you recommended him. I had not read any of the Greek plays until you insisted I at least read Medea. I read Caesar to get the other side of the story. I read Lucretius and Xenophon, both on your recommendation, and although Plato really needs no introduction, I took heed of your praise of him, and have begun my quest through his works. I discovered Stoic philosophy through you, and through that connection, I discovered Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus and Seneca.

All this, because of you, dear Cicero, and though I can see the day approaching when I shall have read all of your works, I cannot see a time when I shall not need you as my friend, and books once read, are better learned through second reading. Each piece of new knowledge seems to build upon the next, and with the passing of years, comes the maturation of my own wisdom and the accumulated bounty of awareness that comes from continued study. Awareness both of the vastness of my own ignorance, and of the dazzling pearls of knowledge granted me by all the ancient authors I am reading.

The last two letters extant, are one from you to M Brutus, and one from Munatius Plancus to you, Cicero.

DCCCCX (BRUT. 1, 18)

TO M. IUNIUS BRUTUS (IN MACEDONIA)

Rome, 27 July

After I had often urged you by letter to come as soon as possible to the aid of the state, and to bring your army into Italy, and when I thought that your relatives had no doubt on that subject, I was asked by that most prudent and careful lady your mother — whose every thought and care are

directed and devoted to you — to call on her on the 24th of July, which, as in duty bound, I at once did. On my arrival, I found Casca, Labeo, and Scaptius there. Well, she opened the subject and asked me my opinion, whether we should ask you to come to Italy, and whether we thought that to your advantage, or whether it were better that you should put it off and stay where you were. I answered — as was my real opinion — that it was of the highest advantage to your position and reputation to bring help at the first possible moment to the tottering and almost prostrate Republic. For what disaster do you think is wanting in a war, in which the victorious armies refuse to pursue a flying enemy, and in which an officer with imperium in full possession of his rights, enjoying the most splendid honours and the most ample fortune, with wife and children, with you and Cassius related to him by marriage, has yet proclaimed war on the Republic?

How can I use the words "in such unanimity of senate and people," when such fatal mischief

abides within our very walls? But the bitterest sorrow which is affecting me as I write this is that, whereas the Republic accepted me as a surety for that youth, or, I might almost say, that boy, I seem scarcely able to make my promise good. Truly, a guarantee for another's feeling and sentiment, especially in affairs of the greatest importance, is more onerous and difficult than one for money. For money can be paid, and a loss of property is bearable. But how are you to make good what you have guaranteed to the state, unless he for whom you undertook the obligation is willing that it should be fulfilled ? 'However, I shall retain even him, I hope, in spite of many adverse influences. For he seems to have a character of his own, though he is at the pliable time of life, and there are many prepared to corrupt him, who hope that, by holding out before him the glamour of false honour,' the sight of a naturally good intelligence may be blinded. Accordingly, to my other labours has been added the task of applying every engine to the keeping of a hold upon the young man, that I may not incur a reputation for rashness. However, where is the rashness ? I bound the man, for whom I gave the guarantee, more tightly than I did myself ; nor can the state regret my having given a guarantee for one who in the actual campaign was rendered more resolute by my promise, as well as from his own disposition. But, unless I am mistaken, the greatest difficulty in the Republic is the want of money. For the loyalists grow daily more callous to the call for property tax. All that was collected by the one per cent, income tax, owing to the shameless returns made by the wealthy, is exhausted by the bounties given to two legions : whereas endless expenses are hanging over us, both for the armies now protecting us, and for yours — for our friend Cassius seems able to come home very well provided. But of this and many other things I desire to talk to you when we meet, and that as soon as possible. About your sister's sons, Brutus, I did not wait for you to write. As a matter of fact, the state of the times itself — for the war will be protracted — guarantees that

the case will be left for you to decide. But from the very first, though I could not divine the long continuance of the war, I pleaded the cause of the boys in the senate, as I think you can have learnt from your mother's letter. Nor will there ever arise any circumstance in which I shall not, even

at the risk of my life, say and do whatever I think is your wish and to your interest.

Oh Cicero, how your grim fate seems reflected in the grim subject of your letter. We know well that your faith in Augustus was misplaced, at least, that is how the historians describe it. But I wonder now, if your misplaced trust is not a sign of your dedication to an honourable method of living that was long at odds with the realpolitik? I think now that I can admire you for believing in the beautiful lie of hope, now that in my own day and age, such a belief seems the only way to maintain myself in the face of the realpolitik of 2020. Yet, in the case of the Roman Republic, its time was done. The rot of corruption and oppression was everywhere...I don't need to go on about it, you know how it all turned out.

I am probably projecting my presentism, (as the historians put it), onto your experience. I am probably seeking a parallel where none exists, but you are my friend, and I place my hope and trust in you Cicero, in the belief that you were a good man, and a useful guide for me now, on my own path seeking virtue.