appearance, by his power of saying
gracious things, and then again by his power of holding his tongue. "You
know the slowness of the man," he says to Lentulus, "and his
silence."[9] A slow, cautious, hypocritical man, who knew well how to
use the allurements of personal manners! These letters to Lentulus are
full of flattery.

There are five letters to his brother Quintus, dealing with the politics
of the time, especially with the then King of Egypt, who was to be, or
was not to be, restored. From all these things, however, I endeavor to
abstain as much as possible, as matters not peculiarly affecting the
character of Cicero. He gives his brother an account of the doings in
the Senate, which is interesting as showing us how that august assembly
conducted itself. While Pompey was speaking with much dignity, Clodius
and his supporters in vain struggled with shouts and cries to put him
down. At noon Pompey sat down, and Clodius got possession of the rostra,
and in the middle of a violent tumult remained on his feet for two
hours. Then, on Pompey's side, the "optimates" sang indecent songs
--"versus obscenissimi"--in reference to Clodius and his sister Clodia.
Clodius, rising in his anger, demanded, "Who had brought the famine?"
"Pompey," shouted the Clodians. "Who wanted to go to Egypt?" demanded
Clodius. "Pompey," again shouted his followers. After that, at three
o'clock, at a given signal, they began to spit upon their opponents.
Then there was a fight, in which each party tried to drive the others
out. The "optimates" were getting the best of it, when Cicero thought it
as well to run off lest he should be hurt in the tumult.[10] What hope
could there be for an oligarchy when such things occurred in the Senate?
Cicero in this letter speaks complacently of resisting force by force in
the city. Even Cato, the law-abiding, precise Cato, thought it necessary
to fall into the fashion and go about Rome with an armed following. He
bought a company of gladiators and circus-men; but was obliged to sell
them, as Cicero tells his brother with glee, because he could not afford
to feed them.[11]

There are seven letters also to Atticus--always more interesting than
any of the others. There is in these the most perfect good-feeling, so
that we may know that the complaints made by him in his exile had had no
effect of estranging his friend; and we learn from them his real,
innermost thoughts, as they are not given even to his brother