Marcus Tullius Cicero→Servius Sulpicius Rufus|c. 45 BC|Cicero|From Rome|To Achaea|AI-assisted
Many people report to me every day that you are deeply anxious and, amid the common misery, are tormented by a special sorrow of your own. I am not surprised, and in some sense I recognize the feeling in myself, but I am sorry that a man of almost unmatched wisdom does not take comfort in his own blessings rather than torment himself over the misfortunes of others.
As for me, although I yield to no one in the pain I feel from the ruin and destruction of the republic, I now find many consolations, above all the consciousness of my own policy. Long before the storm I saw it coming, as if from a watchtower, not only by my own judgment but still more because you warned and foretold it. Although I was away for much of your consulship, I learned even from a distance what your view was in trying to prevent and predict this disastrous war. I was also present in the early days of your consulship, when you most carefully warned the Senate, after reviewing all civil wars, that they should fear the ones they remembered and understand this: since earlier victors, though no such precedent had existed in the republic before, had been so cruel, anyone who later oppressed the republic by arms would be far harder to bear. What is done by precedent, men think legally justified; then they add something of their own, or rather a great deal.
So remember that those who did not follow your authority and advice have fallen by their own folly, when they could have been saved by prudence like yours. You will say, "What comfort is that to me amid such darkness and what I might call the ruins of the republic?" Certainly the sorrow scarcely admits of consolation, so complete is the loss and so hopeless the recovery. Yet in Caesar's judgment and in the people's opinion, your integrity, wisdom, and high character shine like a torch when all else is extinguished. That should do much to lessen your distress.
As for absence from your family, it should trouble you less because you are also absent from many severe annoyances. I would list them if I did not hesitate to enlighten you about matters from which your ignorance seems to me to leave you happier than those of us who see them. The consolation I can properly offer is to tell you, as a deeply affectionate friend, the facts that may relieve your anxiety.
The other consolations, which are well known to me and by no means small, indeed I think by far the greatest, lie within yourself. By testing them every day I recognize their strength so fully that they seem life-giving. I remember that from earliest manhood you have been wholly devoted to every kind of philosophical study, and with the greatest zeal and care you have learned all the teachings of the wisest men about living rightly. These are useful and delightful even in the highest prosperity; in times like these we have nothing else to give the mind peace.
I will not be presumptuous and urge a man so rich in learning and natural ability to return to the studies to which you have devoted yourself from youth. I will only say what I hope you think right: since there is now no place in forum or Senate-house for the art to which I devoted myself, I have given every thought and effort to philosophy. For your professional knowledge, outstanding and unmatched as it is, no much better field has been left than for mine. So, though I do not presume to advise you, I have persuaded myself that you too are occupied in studies which, even if not exactly profitable, at least draw the mind away from anxiety.
Your son Servius is pursuing all liberal studies, especially those in which I have said I find peace of mind, with conspicuous success. In affection for him I yield to no one except you, and he returns my affection with gratitude. In this matter he clearly thinks that in showing attention and regard to me, he is also doing what will give you the greatest pleasure.
CDXCII (Fam. IV, 3) TO SERVIUS SULPICIUS RUFUS (IN ACHAIA) ROME (OCTOBER OR NOVEMBER) Many daily report to me that you are in a state of great anxiety, and in the midst of miseries affecting all alike are suffering, as it were, a special personal sorrow. Though not surprised at this, and to a certain extent sharing in it myself, yet I am sorry that a man of your all but unequalled wisdom does not rather feel pleasure in his own blessings, than vexation at other people's misfortunes. For myself; though I do not yield to anyone in sorrow experienced from the ruin and destruction of the constitution, yet I now find many Sources of consolation, and above all in the consciousness of the policy which I pursued. For far in advance I foresaw the coming storm, as it were from a watchtower, and that not altogether spontaneously, but much more owing to your warnings and denunciations. For, though I was absent during the greater part of your consulship, yet in spite of that absence I was well informed of your sentiments in taking precautions against and predicting this disastrous war, and I was myself present in the first period of your consulship, when, after passing in review all the civil wars, you warned the senate in the most impressive terms, both to fear those they remembered, and to feel assured, since the last generation had been so cruel — to an extent up to that time unprecedented in the Republic — that whoever thenceforth overpowered the Republic by arms would be much more difficult to endure. For what is done on a precedent, they Consider as even legally justifiable: but they add and Contribute something, or rather a great deal, of their own to it. Wherefore you must remember that those who have not followed your authority and advice have fallen by their own folly, when they might have been saved by prudence like yours. You will say: “What consolation is that to me in the midst of such gloom and what I may call the ruins of the Republic?” Certainly it is a sorrow scarce admitting of consolation: so complete is the loss and the hopelessness of recovery. But, after all, both in Caesar 's judgment and the people's estimate your righteousness, wisdom, and lofty character shine out like some torch when all the rest have gone out. This ought to go a long way towards alleviating your unhappiness. As to absence from your family, that should be the less distressing to you from the fact that you are at the same time absent from many severe annoyances. All of these I would have now mentioned in detail, had I not scrupled to enlighten you on certain particulars, from not seeing which you appear to me to be in a happier position than we who see them. I think that any consolation from me is properly confined to your being informed by a very affectionate friend of those facts by which your uneasiness could be relieved. Other sources of consolation, not unknown to me nor the least significant-indeed, as I think, by far the greatest — are centred in yourself: and by daily testing them I so completely recognize their soundness that they seem to me to be positively life-giving. Again, I recall the fact that from the earliest dawn of manhood you have been most absolutely devoted to all kinds of philosophical study, and have with the utmost zeal and care learnt all the maxims of the wisest men which concern a right conduct of life. These indeed are useful as well as delightful, even in the highest state of prosperity: but in such times as these we have nothing else to give us peace of mind. I will not be in any way presumptuous, nor exhort a man so richly endowed with professional knowledge and natural ability, to return to those arts to which, from the earliest period of your life, you have devoted your industry. I will only say, what I hope you think to be right, that for myself, seeing that for the art to which I had devoted myself there was now no place either in forum or senate-house , I have bestowed my every thought and every effort on philosophy. For your professional knowledge — eminent and unrivalled as it is — no sphere much better has been left than for mine. Wherefore, though I do not presume to advise you, I have persuaded myself that you also were engaged in pursuits which, even if they were not exactly profitable yet served to withdraw the mind from anxiety. Your son Servius indeed is engaged in all liberal studies, and especially in those in which I have mentioned that I find peace of mind, with conspicuous success. In my affection for him in fact I yield to no one in the world but yourself, and he repays me with gratitude. In this matter he thinks, as one may easily see, that in showing me attention and regard, he is at the same time doing what will give you the greatest pleasure.
III. Scr. Romae exeunte mense Septembri a.u.c. 708. M. CICERO S. D. SER. SULPICIO.
Vehementer te esse sollicitum et in communibus miseriis praecipuo quodam dolore angi multi ad nos quotidie deferunt; quod quamquam minime miror et meum quodammodo agnosco, doleo tamen te sapientia praeditum prope singulari non tuis bonis delectari potius quam alienis malis laborare. Me quidem, etsi nemini concedo, qui maiorem ex pernicie et peste rei publicae molestiam traxerit, tamen multa iam consolantur maximeque conscientia consiliorum meorum; multo enim ante tamquam ex aliqua specula prospexi tempestatem futuram, neque id solum mea sponte, sed multo etiam magis monente et denuntiante te; etsi enim afui magnam partem consulatus tui, tamen et absens cognoscebam, quae esset tua in hoc pestifero bello cavendo et praedicendo sententia, et ipse affui primis temporibus tui consulatus, cum accuratissime monuisti senatum collectis omnibus bellis civilibus, ut et illa timerent, quae meminissent, et scirent, cum superiores nullo tali exemplo antea in re publica cognito tam crudeles fuissent, quicumque postea rem publicam oppressisset armis, multo intolerabiliorem futurum; nam, quod exemplo fit, id etiam iure fieri putant, sed aliquid atque adeo multa addunt et afferunt de suo. Quare meminisse debes eos, qui auctoritatem et consilium tuum non sint secuti, sua stultitia occidisse, cum tua prudentia salvi esse potuissent. Dices: "quid me ista res consolatur in tantis tenebris et quasi parietinis rei publicae?" Est omnino vix consolabilis dolor—tanta est omnium rerum amissio et desperatio recuperandi—; sed tamen et Caesar ipse ita de te iudicat et omnes cives sic existimant, quasi lumen aliquod exstinctis ceteris elucere sanctitatem et prudentiam et dignitatem tuam: haec tibi ad levandas molestias magna esse debent. Quod autem a tuis abes, id eo levius ferendum est, quod eodem tempore a multis et magnis molestiis abes; quas ad te omnes perscriberem, nisi vererer, ne ea cognosceres absens, quae quia non vides, mihi videris meliore esse condicione quam nos, qui videmus. Hactenus existimo nostram consolationem recte adhibitam esse, quoad certior ab homine amicissimo fieres iis de rebus, quibus levari possent molestiae tuae. Reliqua sunt in te ipso neque mihi ignota nec minima solatia, ut quidem ego sentio, multo maxima: quae ego experiens quotidie sic probo, ut ea mihi salutem afferre videantur; te autem ab initio aetatis memoria teneo summe omnium doctrinarum studiosum fuisse omniaque, quae a sapientissimis viris ad bene vivendum tradita essent, summo studio curaque didicisse; quae quidem vel optimis rebus et usui et delectationi esse possent, his vero temporibus habemus aliud nihil, in quo acquiescamus. Nihil faciam insolenter neque te tali vel scientia vel natura praeditum hortabor, ut ad eas te referas artes, quibus a primis temporibus aetatis studium tuum dedisti: tantum dicam, quod te spero approbaturum, me, posteaquam illi arti, cui studueram, nihil esse loci neque in curia neque in foro viderem, omnem meam curam atque operam ad philosophiam contulisse. Tuae scientiae excellenti ac singulari non multo plus quam nostrae relictum est loci; quare non equidem te moneo, sed mihi ita persuasi, te quoque in iisdem versari rebus, quae, etiamsi minus prodessent, animum tamen a sollicitudine abducerent. Servius quidem tuus in omnibus ingenuis artibus in primisque in hac, in qua ego me scripsi acquiescere, ita versatur, ut excellat; a me vero sic diligitur, ut tibi uni concedam, praeterea nemini, mihique ab eo gratia refertur, in quo ille existimat, quod facile appareat, cum me colat et observet, tibi quoque in eo se facere gratissimum.
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Many people report to me every day that you are deeply anxious and, amid the common misery, are tormented by a special sorrow of your own. I am not surprised, and in some sense I recognize the feeling in myself, but I am sorry that a man of almost unmatched wisdom does not take comfort in his own blessings rather than torment himself over the misfortunes of others.
As for me, although I yield to no one in the pain I feel from the ruin and destruction of the republic, I now find many consolations, above all the consciousness of my own policy. Long before the storm I saw it coming, as if from a watchtower, not only by my own judgment but still more because you warned and foretold it. Although I was away for much of your consulship, I learned even from a distance what your view was in trying to prevent and predict this disastrous war. I was also present in the early days of your consulship, when you most carefully warned the Senate, after reviewing all civil wars, that they should fear the ones they remembered and understand this: since earlier victors, though no such precedent had existed in the republic before, had been so cruel, anyone who later oppressed the republic by arms would be far harder to bear. What is done by precedent, men think legally justified; then they add something of their own, or rather a great deal.
So remember that those who did not follow your authority and advice have fallen by their own folly, when they could have been saved by prudence like yours. You will say, "What comfort is that to me amid such darkness and what I might call the ruins of the republic?" Certainly the sorrow scarcely admits of consolation, so complete is the loss and so hopeless the recovery. Yet in Caesar's judgment and in the people's opinion, your integrity, wisdom, and high character shine like a torch when all else is extinguished. That should do much to lessen your distress.
As for absence from your family, it should trouble you less because you are also absent from many severe annoyances. I would list them if I did not hesitate to enlighten you about matters from which your ignorance seems to me to leave you happier than those of us who see them. The consolation I can properly offer is to tell you, as a deeply affectionate friend, the facts that may relieve your anxiety.
The other consolations, which are well known to me and by no means small, indeed I think by far the greatest, lie within yourself. By testing them every day I recognize their strength so fully that they seem life-giving. I remember that from earliest manhood you have been wholly devoted to every kind of philosophical study, and with the greatest zeal and care you have learned all the teachings of the wisest men about living rightly. These are useful and delightful even in the highest prosperity; in times like these we have nothing else to give the mind peace.
I will not be presumptuous and urge a man so rich in learning and natural ability to return to the studies to which you have devoted yourself from youth. I will only say what I hope you think right: since there is now no place in forum or Senate-house for the art to which I devoted myself, I have given every thought and effort to philosophy. For your professional knowledge, outstanding and unmatched as it is, no much better field has been left than for mine. So, though I do not presume to advise you, I have persuaded myself that you too are occupied in studies which, even if not exactly profitable, at least draw the mind away from anxiety.
Your son Servius is pursuing all liberal studies, especially those in which I have said I find peace of mind, with conspicuous success. In affection for him I yield to no one except you, and he returns my affection with gratitude. In this matter he clearly thinks that in showing attention and regard to me, he is also doing what will give you the greatest pleasure.
AI-assisted translation - This translation was produced with AI assistance and has not been peer-reviewed. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek below for scholarly use.
Latin / Greek Original
III. Scr. Romae exeunte mense Septembri a.u.c. 708. M. CICERO S. D. SER. SULPICIO.
Vehementer te esse sollicitum et in communibus miseriis praecipuo quodam dolore angi multi ad nos quotidie deferunt; quod quamquam minime miror et meum quodammodo agnosco, doleo tamen te sapientia praeditum prope singulari non tuis bonis delectari potius quam alienis malis laborare. Me quidem, etsi nemini concedo, qui maiorem ex pernicie et peste rei publicae molestiam traxerit, tamen multa iam consolantur maximeque conscientia consiliorum meorum; multo enim ante tamquam ex aliqua specula prospexi tempestatem futuram, neque id solum mea sponte, sed multo etiam magis monente et denuntiante te; etsi enim afui magnam partem consulatus tui, tamen et absens cognoscebam, quae esset tua in hoc pestifero bello cavendo et praedicendo sententia, et ipse affui primis temporibus tui consulatus, cum accuratissime monuisti senatum collectis omnibus bellis civilibus, ut et illa timerent, quae meminissent, et scirent, cum superiores nullo tali exemplo antea in re publica cognito tam crudeles fuissent, quicumque postea rem publicam oppressisset armis, multo intolerabiliorem futurum; nam, quod exemplo fit, id etiam iure fieri putant, sed aliquid atque adeo multa addunt et afferunt de suo. Quare meminisse debes eos, qui auctoritatem et consilium tuum non sint secuti, sua stultitia occidisse, cum tua prudentia salvi esse potuissent. Dices: "quid me ista res consolatur in tantis tenebris et quasi parietinis rei publicae?" Est omnino vix consolabilis dolor—tanta est omnium rerum amissio et desperatio recuperandi—; sed tamen et Caesar ipse ita de te iudicat et omnes cives sic existimant, quasi lumen aliquod exstinctis ceteris elucere sanctitatem et prudentiam et dignitatem tuam: haec tibi ad levandas molestias magna esse debent. Quod autem a tuis abes, id eo levius ferendum est, quod eodem tempore a multis et magnis molestiis abes; quas ad te omnes perscriberem, nisi vererer, ne ea cognosceres absens, quae quia non vides, mihi videris meliore esse condicione quam nos, qui videmus. Hactenus existimo nostram consolationem recte adhibitam esse, quoad certior ab homine amicissimo fieres iis de rebus, quibus levari possent molestiae tuae. Reliqua sunt in te ipso neque mihi ignota nec minima solatia, ut quidem ego sentio, multo maxima: quae ego experiens quotidie sic probo, ut ea mihi salutem afferre videantur; te autem ab initio aetatis memoria teneo summe omnium doctrinarum studiosum fuisse omniaque, quae a sapientissimis viris ad bene vivendum tradita essent, summo studio curaque didicisse; quae quidem vel optimis rebus et usui et delectationi esse possent, his vero temporibus habemus aliud nihil, in quo acquiescamus. Nihil faciam insolenter neque te tali vel scientia vel natura praeditum hortabor, ut ad eas te referas artes, quibus a primis temporibus aetatis studium tuum dedisti: tantum dicam, quod te spero approbaturum, me, posteaquam illi arti, cui studueram, nihil esse loci neque in curia neque in foro viderem, omnem meam curam atque operam ad philosophiam contulisse. Tuae scientiae excellenti ac singulari non multo plus quam nostrae relictum est loci; quare non equidem te moneo, sed mihi ita persuasi, te quoque in iisdem versari rebus, quae, etiamsi minus prodessent, animum tamen a sollicitudine abducerent. Servius quidem tuus in omnibus ingenuis artibus in primisque in hac, in qua ego me scripsi acquiescere, ita versatur, ut excellat; a me vero sic diligitur, ut tibi uni concedam, praeterea nemini, mihique ab eo gratia refertur, in quo ille existimat, quod facile appareat, cum me colat et observet, tibi quoque in eo se facere gratissimum.