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abilities to make them famous at Borne." Yet the
other strain had nothing in it of aifectation or hypo-
crisy : it was the schoolboy escaped from work, thor-
oughly enjoying his holiday, and fancying that nothing
would be so delightful as to have holidays always.
In this, again, there was a similarity between Cicero's
taste and that of Horace. The poet loved his Sabine
farm and all its rural delights after his fashion ; and
perhaps thought honestly that he loved it more than
he really did. Above all, he loved to write about it.
With that fancy, half-real, perhaps, and half-afiected,
for pastoral simplicity, which has always marked a
state of over-luxurious civilisation, he protests to him-
self that there is nothing like the country. But per-
haps Horace discharges a sly jest at himself, in a sort
of aside to his readers, in the person of Alphius, the
rich city money-lender, who is made to utter that pretty
apostrophe to rural happiness :


" Happy the man, in busy schemes unskilled,
Who, living simply, like our sires of old,
Tills the few acres which his father tilled,
Vexed by no thoughts of usury or gold."

Martin's ' Horace.'

And who, after thus expatiating for some stanzas on
the charms of the country, calls in all his money one
week in order to settle there, and puts it all out again
(no doubt at higher interest) the week after. " rus,
quando te aspiciam I " has been the cry of public men
before and since Cicero's day, to whom, as to the great
Roman, banishment from political life, and condemna-
tion to perpetual leisure, would have been a sentence
that would have crushed their very souls.

He was very happy at this time in his family. His
wife and he loved one another with an honest affection;
anything more would have been out of the natural course
of things in Eoman society at any date, and even so much
as this was become a notable exception in these later
days. It is paying a high honour to the character of
Cicero and his household and from all evidence that
has come down to us it may be paid with truth that
even in those evil times it might have presented the ori-
ginal of what Virgil drew as almost a fancy picture, or one
to be realised only in some happy retirement into which
the civilised vices of the capital had never penetrated

" Where loving children climb to reach a kiss
A home of chaste delights and wedded bliss." *

* " Interia dulces pendent circum oscula nati ;
Casta pudicitiam servat domus."

Georg. ii. 524.


His little daughter, Tullia, or Tulliola, which was her
pet name (the Roman diminutives being formed some-
what more elegantly than ours, by adding a syllable
instead of cutting short), was the delight of his heart ;
in his earlier letters to Atticus he is constantly making
some affectionate mention of her sending her love, or
some playful message which his friend would under-
stand. She had been happily married (though she
was then but thirteen at the most) the year before his
consulship ; but the affectionate intercourse between
father and daughter was never interrupted until her
early death. His only son, Marcus, born after a consider-
able interval, who succeeded to Tullia's place as a house-
hold pet, is made also occasionally to send some child-
ish word of remembrance to his father's old friend :
" Cicero the Little sends his compliments to Titus the
Athenian " " Cicero the Philosopher salutes Titus the
Politician."* These messages are written inGreekat the
end of the letters. Abeken thinks that in the originals
they might have been added in the little Cicero's own
hand, " to show that he had begun Greek ;" "a conjec-
ture," says Mr Merivale, " too pleasant not to be readily
admitted." The boy gave his father some trouble in
after life. He served with some credit as an officer
of cavalry under Pompey in Greece, or at least got
into no trouble there. Some years after, he wished
to take service in Spain, under Caesar, against the
sons of Pompey ; but the father did not approve of
this change of side. He persuaded him to go to

* See 'Letters to Atticus,' ii. 9, 12 ; Merivale's translation of
Abeken's 'Cicero in Seinen Brief en,' p. 114.


Athens to study instead, allowing him what both At-
ticus and himself thought a very liberal income not
sufficient, however, for him to keep a horse, which
Cicero held to be an unnecessary luxury. Probably
the young cavalry officer might not have been of the
same opinion ; at any rate, he got into more trouble
among the philosophers than he did in the army. He
spent a great deal more than his allowance, and one of
the professors, whose lectures he attended, had the
credit of helping him to spend it. The young man
must have shared the kindly disposition of his father.
He wrote a confidential letter to Tiro, the old family
servant, showing very good feeling, and promising re-
formation. It is doubtful how far the promise was
kept. He rose, however, subsequently to place and
power under Augustus, but died without issue ; and,
so far at least as history knows them, the line of the
Ciceros was extinct. It had flashed into fame with
the great orator, and died out with him.

All Cicero's biographers have found considerable
difficulty in tracing, at all satisfactorily, the sources of
the magnificent fortune which must have been required
to keep up, and to embellish in accordance with so
luxurious a taste, so many residences in all parts of
the country. True, these expenses often led Cicero
into debt and difficulties ; but what he borrowed from
his friends he seems always to have repaid, so that the
money must have come in from some quarter or other.
His patrimony at Arpinum would not appear to have
been large ; he got only some 3000 or 4000 dowry
with Terentia; and we find no hint of his making


money by any commercial speculations, as some Eoman
gentlemen did. On the other hand, it is the barest
justice to him to say that his hands were clean from
those ill-gotten gains which made the fortunes of many
of the wealthiest public men at Eome, who were crim-
inals in only a less degree than Verres peculation,
extortion, and downright robbery in the unfortunate
provinces which they were sent out to govern. Such
opportunities lay as ready to his grasp as to other
men's, but he steadily eschewed them. His declining
the tempting prize of a provincial government, which
was his right on the expiration of his prsetorship, may
fairly be attributed to his having in view the higher
object of the consulship, to secure which, by an early
and persistent canvass, he felt it necessary to remain
in Eome. But he again waived the right when his
consulship was over ; and when, some years afterwards,
he went unwillingly as proconsul to Cilicia, his admin-
istration there, as before in his lower office in Sicily,
was marked by a probity and honesty quite excep-
tional in a Eoman governor. His emoluments, con-
fined strictly within the legal bounds, would be only
moderate, and, whatever they were, came too late in
his life to be any explanation of his earlier expenditure.
He received many valuable legacies, at different times,
from personal friends or grateful clients who died
childless (be it remembered how the barrenness of the
marriage union had become then, at Eome, as it is said
to be in some countries now, the reproach of a sensual
and effete aristocracy) ; he boasts himself, in one of his
' Philippics,' that he had received from this source



above 170,000. Mr Forsyth also notices the large
presents that were made by foreign kings and states to
conciliate the support and advocacy of the leading men
at Eome "we can hardly call them bribes, for in
many cases the relation of patron and client was avow-
edly established between a foreign state and some
influential Roman : and it became his duty, as of
course it was his interest, to defend it in the Senate
and before the people." In this way, he thinks, Cicero
held " retainers " from Dyrrachhim ; and, he might
have added, from Sicily. The great orator's own boast
was, that he never took anything for his services as an
advocate ; and, indeed, such payments were forbidden
by law.* But with all respect for Cicero's material
honesty, one learns from his letters, unfortunately, not
to put implicit confidence in him when he is in a
boasting vein ; and he might not look upon voluntary
gifts, after a cause was decided, in the light of pay-
ment. Psetus, one of his clients, gave him a valuable
library of books ; and one cannot believe that this was
a solitary instance of the quiet evasion of the Cincian
law, or that there were not other transactions of the
same nature which never found their way into any
letter of Cicero's that was likely to come down to us.

* The principle passed, like so many others, from the old
Roman law into our own, so that to this very day, a barrister's
fees, being considered in the nature of an honorarium, or vol-
untary present made to him for his services, are not recoverable
by law.



WE must return to Rome. Cicero had never left it
but for his short occasional holiday. Though no longer
in office, the ex-consul was still one of the foremost
public men, and his late dignity gave him important
precedence in the Senate. He was soon to be brought
into contact, and more or less into opposition, with
the two great chiefs of parties in whose feuds he be-
came at length so fatally involved. Pompey and
Ceesar were both gradually becoming formidable, and
both had ambitious plans of their own, totally incon-
sistent with any remnant of republican liberty plans
which Cicero more or less suspected, and of that sus-
picion they were probably both aware. Both, by their
successful campaigns, had not only acquired fame and
honours, but a far more dangerous influence an
influence which was to overwhelm all others here-
after in the affection of their legions. Pompey was
still absent in Spain, but soon to return from his
long war against Mithridates, to enjoy the most splen-
did triumph ever seen at Rome, and to take the


lead of the oligarchical party just so long and so
far as they would help Mm to the power he coveted.
The enemies whom Cicero had made by his strong
measures in the matter of the Catilinarian conspiracy
now took advantage of Pompey's name and popularity
to make an attack upon him. The tribune Metellus,
constant to his old party watchword, moved in the
Senate that the successful general, upon whom all ex-
pectations were centred, should be recalled to Rome
with his army " to restore the violated constitution."
All knew against whom the motion was aimed, and
what the violation of the constitution meant ; it was
the putting citizens to death without a trial The
measure was not passed, though Caesar, jealous of
Cicero even more than of Pompey, lent himself to the

But the blow fell on Cicero at last from a very dif-
ferent quarter, and from the mere private grudge of a
determined and unprincipled man. Publius Clodius,
a young man of noble family, once a friend and sup-
porter of Cicero against Catiline, but who had already
made himself notorious for the most abandoned profli-
gacy, was detected, in a woman's dress, at the celebra-
tion of the rites of the Bona Dea a kind of religious
freemasonry amongst the Roman ladies, the mysteries
of which are very little known, and probably would in
any case be best left without explanation. But for a
man to have been present at them was a sacrilege
hitherto unheard of, and which was held to lay the
whole city under the just wrath of the offended god-
dess. The celebration had been held in the house of


Caesar, as praetor, under the presidency of his wife
Pompeia ; and it was said that the object of the young
profligate was an intrigue with that lady. The circum-
stances are not favourable to the suspicion ; but Caesar
divorced her forthwith, with the often-quoted remark
that " Caesar's wife must not be even suspected." For
this crime unpardonable even in that corrupt society,
when crimes of far deeper dye passed almost unre-
proved Clodius was, after some delay, brought to
public trial. The defence set up was an' alibi, and
Cicero came forward as a witness to disprove it : he
had met and spoken with Clodius in Eome that very
evening. The evidence was clear enough, but the
jury had been tampered with by Clodius and his friends ;
liberal bribery, and other corrupting influences of even
a more disgraceful kind, had been successfully brought
to bear upon the majority of them, and he escaped con-
viction by a few votes. But he never forgave the part
which Cicero had taken against him; and from that
time forth the latter found a new, unscrupulous, inde-
fatigable enemy, of whose services his old opponents
gladly availed themselves. Cicero himself for some
time underrated this new danger. He lost no oppor-
tunity of taunting the unconvicted criminal in the bit-
terest terms in the Senate, and of exchanging with him
very much to the detriment of his own character
and dignity, in our modern eyes the coarsest jests
when they met in the street. But the temptation to
a jest, of whatever kind, was always irresistible to
Cicero : it was a weakness for which he more than
once paid dearly, for they were remembered against


him when he had forgotten them. Meanwhile Clodius
a sort of milder Catiline, not without many popular
qualities had got himself elected tribune ; degrading
himself formally from his own order of nobles for
that purpose, since the tribune must be a man of the
commons. The powers of the office were formidable
for all purposes of obstruction and attack; Clodius had
taken pains to ingratiate himself with all classes ; and
the consuls of the year were men of infamous character,
for whom he had found a successful means of bribery
by the promise of getting a special law passed to secure
them the choice of the richest provincial governments
those coveted fields of plunder of which they would
otherwise have had to take their chance by lot. When
all was ripe for his revenge, he brought before the
people in full assembly the following bill of pains and
penalties : " Be it enacted, that whoever has put to
death a Roman citizen uncondemned in due form of
trial, shall be interdicted from fire and water." Such
was the legal form of words which implied banishment
from Eome, outlawry, and social excommunication.
Every man knew against whom the motion was level-
led. It was carried carried in spite of the indigna-
tion of all honest men in Rome, in spite of all Cicero's
humiliating efforts to obtain its rejection.

It was in vain that he put on mourning, as was the
custom with those who were impeached of public
crimes, and went about the streets thus silently im-
ploring the pity of his fellow-citizens. In vain the
whole of his own equestrian order, and in fact, as he
declares, " all honest men" (it was his favourite term


for men of his own party), adopted the same dress to
show their sympathy, and twenty thousand youths
of good family all in mourning accompanied him
through the city. The Senate even met and passed
a resolution that their whole house should put on
mourning too. But Gabinius, one of the consuls, at
once called a public meeting, and warned the people
not to make the mistake of thinking that the Senate
was Rome.

In vain, also, was any personal appeal which Cicero
could make to the only two men who might have had
influence enough to sway the popular vote. He was
ostensibly on good terms both with Pompey and Caesar;
in fact, he made it his policy so to be. He foresaw
that on their future course would probably depend
the fate of Eome, and he persuaded himself, perhaps
honestly, that he could make them " better citizens."
But he trusted neither ; and both saw in him an ob-
stacle to their own ambition. Cassar now looked on
coldly, not altogether sorry at the turn which affairs
had taken, and faintly suggested that perhaps some
" milder measure" might serve to meet the case. From
Pompey Cicero had a right to look for some active
support ; indeed, such had been promised in case of
need. He threw himself at his feet with prayers and
tears, but even this last humiliation was in vain ; and
he anticipated the execution of that disgraceful edict
by a voluntary withdrawal into exile. Piso, one of
the consuls, had satirically suggested that thus he
might " save Eome" a second time. His property was
at once confiscated; his villas at Tusculum and at For-


miae were plundered and laid waste, the consuls claim-
ing the lion's share of the spoil; and Clodius, with his
armed mob, set fire to the noble house on the Palatine,
razed it to the ground, and erected on the site a temple
to Liberty !

Cicero had friends who strongly urged him to defy
the edict; to remain at Rome, and call on all good
citizens to arm in his defence. Modern historians very
generally have assumed that, if he could have made up
his mind to such a course, it would probably have been
successful. He was to rely, we suppose, upon those
" twenty thousand Eoman youths " rather a broken
reed to trust to (remembering what those young gal-
lants were), with Caesar against him, now at the head
of his legions just outside the gates of Rome. He him-
self seriously contemplated suicide, and consulted his
friends as to the propriety of such a step in the gravest
and most business-like manner; though, with our
modern notions on the subject, such a consultation has
more of the ludicrous than the sublime. The sensible
and practical Atticus convinced him that such a solu-
tion of his difficulties would be the greatest possible
mistake a mistake, moreover, which could never be

But almost any course would have become him better
than that which he chose. Had he remained and faced
Clodius and his bravos manfully or had he turned his
back upon Rome for ever, and shaken the dust off his
feet against the ungrateful city, and become a noble
pensioner upon Atticus at Buthrotum he would have
died a greater man. He wandered from place to place,


sheltered by friends whose unselfish loyalty marks their
names with honour in that false and evil generation
Sica, and Flaccus, and Plancius bemoaning himself
like a woman, "too blinded with tears to write,"
" loathing the light of day." Atticus thought he was
going mad. It is not pleasant to dwell upon this
miserable weakness of a great mind, which Cicero's
most eager eulogists admit, and which his detractors
have not failed to make the most of. Nor is it easy to
find excuse for him, but we will give him all the
benefit of Mr Forsyth's defence :

" Seldom has misfortune so crushed a noble spirit, and
never, perhaps, has the ' bitter bread of banishment ' seemed
more bitter to any one than to him. We must remember
that the love of country was a passion with the ancients to
a degree which it is now difficult to realise, and exile from
it even for a time was felt to be an intolerable evil. The
nearest approach to such a feeling was perhaps that of some
favourite under an European monarchy, when, frowned
upon by his sovereign, he was hurled from place and power,
and banished from the court. The change to Cicero was
indeed tremendous. Not only was he an exile from Rome,
the scene of all his hopes, his glories, his triumphs, but he
was under the ban of an outlaw. If found within a certain
distance from the capital, he must die, and it was death to
any one to give him food or shelter. His property was
destroyed, his family was penniless, and the people whom
he had so faithfully served were the authors of his ruin.
All this may be urged in his behalf, but still it would
have been only consistent with Roman fortitude to have
shown that he possessed something of the spirit of the
fallen archangel." *

* Forsyth's Life of Cicero, p. 190.


His exile lasted nearly a year and a half. Long be-
fore that time there had come a reaction in his favour.
The new consuls were well disposed towards him;
Clodius's insolence had already disgusted Pompey;
Caesar was absent with his legions in Gaul ; his own
friends, who had all along been active in his favour
(though in his querulous mood he accused them of
apathy) took advantage of the change, his generous
rival Hortensius being amongst the most active ; and
all the frantic violence of Clodius and his party served
only to delay for a while the return which they could
not prevent. A motion for his recall was carried at
last by an immense majority.

Cicero had one remarkable ally on that occasion.
On one of the days when the Senate was known to be
discussing his recall, the 'Andromache' of Ennius was
being played in the theatre. The popular actor ^Esop,
whose name has come down to us in conjunction with
that of Roscius, was playing the principal character.
The great orator had been his pupil, and was evidently
regarded by him as a personal friend. With all the
force of his consummate art, he threw into Andro-
mache's lament for her absent father his own feelings
for Cicero. The words in the part were strikingly ap-
propriate, and he did not hesitate to insert a phrase or
two of his own when he came to speak of the man

" Who with a constant mind upheld the state,
Stood on the people's side in perilous times,
Ne'er recked of his own life, nor spared himself."

So significant and emphatic were his tone and ges-


ture as he addressed himself pointedly to his Roman
audience, that they recalled him, and, amid a storm of
plaudits, made him repeat the passage. He added to
it the words which were not set down for him

" Best of all friends in direst strait of war ! "

and the applause was redoubled. The actor drew
courage from his success. When, as the play went on,
he came to speak the words

" And you you let him live a banished man
See him driven forth and hunted from your gates !"

he pointed to the nobles, knights, and commons, as
they sat in their respective seats in the crowded rows
before him, his own voice broke with grief, and the
tears even more than the applause of the whole audience
bore witness alike to their feelings towards the exile,
and the dramatic power of the actor. " He pleaded
my cause before the Roman people," says Cicero (for
it is he that tells the story), "with far more weight of
eloquence than I could have pleaded for myself."*

He had been visited with a remarkable dream, while
staying with one of his friends in Italy, during the
earlier days of his exile, which he now recalled with
some interest. He tells us this story also himself,
though he puts it into the mouth of another speaker,
in his dialogue on " Divination." If few were so fond
of introducing personal anecdotes into every place
where he could find room for them, fewer still could
tell them so well.

* Defence of Sestius, c. 56, &c.


" I had lain awake a great part of the night, and at
last towards dawn had begun to sleep soundly and
heavily. I had given orders to my attendant that,
in this case, though we had to start that very morning,
strict silence should he kept, and that I was on no
account to he disturbed ; when about seven o'clock I
awoke, and told him my dream. I thought I was wan-
dering alone in some solitary place, when Caius Marius
appeared to me, with his fasces bound with laurel, and
asked why I was so sad ? And when I answered that
I had been driven from my country, he caught my hand,
bade me be of good cheer, and put me under the guid-
ance of his own lictor to lead me to his monument ;
there, he said, I should find my deliverance."

So indeed it had turned out. The temple dedicated
to Honour and Virtue, in which the Senate sat when
they passed the first resolution for Cicero's recall, was
known as the " Monument of Marius." There is no
need to doubt the perfect good faith of the story
which he tells, and it may be set down as one of the
earliest authenticated instances of a dream coming true.
But if dreams are fashioned out of our waking imagi-
nations, it is easy to believe that the fortunes of his
great townsman Marius, and the scenes in the Senate
at Rome, were continually present to the exile's

His return was a triumphal progress. He landed at
Brundusium on his daughter's birthday. She had only

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