Letter 6.3

In my previous letter, led more by goodwill than because the situation demanded it, I was longer than necessary. For your virtue did not need my encouragement, nor was my own cause and fortune such that one who himself lacked everything should encourage another. At this time likewise I ought to be briefer; for if there was no need then for so many words, there is no more need now; and if there was need then, that suffices, especially since nothing new has occurred. For although we hear something every day of those matters which I suppose are reported to you, the general situation is the same and the outcome the same -- which I see in my mind as clearly as those things we discern with our eyes. Nor indeed do I see anything that I do not know with certainty that you too see. For although no one can divine what outcome the battle line will have, I do see the outcome of the war, and if not that, then certainly this: since it is necessary that one side or the other win, what either this victory or that will be like. And having thoroughly perceived this, I see this: that nothing bad seems likely to happen, if what is proposed as the greatest object of fear should occur first. For to live as one would have to live then is the most wretched thing; but no wise man has considered death wretched, not even for a happy man. But you are in a city where the very walls seem able to speak these things and more, with greater elegance. I assure you of this, though it is a slight consolation drawn from the miseries of others: you are now in no greater danger than anyone, either of those who have departed or of those who have remained. The one group is fighting, the other fears the victor. But this consolation is slight; that graver one, which I hope you are using and which I certainly use myself, is this: as long as I shall exist, I shall not be troubled by anything, since I am free from all blame; and if I shall not exist, I shall have no sensation at all. But again, this is carrying owls to Athens, writing these things to you. You and yours and all your affairs are of the greatest concern to me, and will be as long as I live. Farewell.

DXXXVIII (Fam. VI, 3) TO AULUS MANLIUS TORQUATUS (AT ATHENS) ROME (JANUARY) IN my former letter I was somewhat lengthy, more from warmth of affection than because the occasion demanded it. For neither did your virtue require fortifying by me, nor were my own case and position of such a nature as to allow of my encouraging another when in want of every source of encouragement myself. On the present occasion I ought to he briefer. For if there was no need of so many words then, there is no more need of them now, or if there was need of them then, what I said is enough, especially as there has been nothing new to add. For though I am every day told some items of news, which I think are conveyed to you, yet the upshot is the same, as is also the result: a result which I see as clearly in my mind as what I actually see with my eyes; and yet in truth I see nothing that I am not well assured that you see also. For though no one can prophesy the result of a battle, yet the result of a war I can see: and if not that, yet at least this — since one or the other side must win — how victory on the one side or the other will be used. And having a clear grasp of this, what I see convinces me that no evil will occur, if that shall have happened to me, even before, which is held out as the most formidable of all terrors. For to live on the terms on which one would then have to live, is a most miserable thing, while no philosopher has asserted death to be a miserable thing even for a prosperous man. But you are in a city in which the very walls of the houses seem capable of telling you these things, even at greater length and in nobler style. I assure you of this — though the miseries of others supply but a poor consolation — that you are now in no greater danger than anyone else, either of those who went away, or of those who remained. The one party are now in arms, the other in terror of the conqueror. But this, I repeat, is a poor consolation. There is another, which I hope you use, as I certainly do: I will never, while hive, let any-thing give me pain, so long as I have done nothing wrong: and if I cease to live, I shall cease to have any sensation. But to write this to you is again a case of “an owl to Athens .” To me both you and your family and all your interests are, and while I live will be, the subject of the greatest concern. Good-bye.

III. Scr. Romae a.u.c. 709. M. CICERO S. D. A. TORQUATO Superioribus litteris benevolentia magis adductus, quam quo res ita postularet, fui longior; neque enim confirmatione nostra egebat virtus tua neque erat ea mea causa atque fortuna, ut, cui ipsi omnia deessent, alterum confirmarem. Hoc item tempore brevior esse debeo; sive enim nihil tum opus fuit tam multis verbis, nihilo magis nunc opus est, sive tum opus fuit, illud satis est, praesertim cum accesserit nihil novi: nam, etsi quotidie aliquid audimus earum rerum, quas ad te perferri existimo, summa tamen eadem est et idem exitus; quem ego tam video animo, quam ea, quae oculis cernimus, nec vero quidquam video, quod non idem te videre certo scio; nam, etsi, quem exitum acies habitura sit, divinare nemo potest, tamen et belli exitum video et, si id minus, hoc quidem certe, cum sit necesse alterum utrum vincere, qualis futura sit vel haec vel illa victoria. Idque cum optime perspexi, tum tale video, nihil ut mali videatur futurum, si id ante acciderit, quod vel maximum ad timorem proponitur; ita enim vivere, ut tum sit vivendum, miserrimum est; mori autem nemo sapiens miserum duxit, ne beato quidem. Sed in ea es urbe, in qua haec vel plura et ornatiora parietes ipsi loqui posse videantur. Ego tibi hoc confirmo, etsi levis est consolatio ex miseriis aliorum, nihilo te nunc maiore in discrimine esse quam quemvis aut eorum, qui discesserint, aut eorum, qui remanserint: alteri dimicant, alteri victorem timent. Sed haec consolatio levis est; illa gravior, qua te uti spero, ego certe utor: nec enim, dum ero, angar ulla re, cum omni vacem culpa, et, si non ero, sensu omnino carebo. Sed rursus glaËx' eÞs 'AyÆnaw, qui ad te haec. Mihi tu, tui, tua omnia maximae curae sunt et, dum vivam, erunt. Vale.