Let us, therefore, abandon this path, which is now desert, uncouth, and choked with weeds and briars: let some allowances be made to youth; let it enjoy more liberty; let not pleasure be debarred in every instance; let not reason, uninfluenced and unbiassed by passion, always take place. To passion and pleasure, let reason sometimes give way, provided, when that is the case, they are regulated by decency and moderation. Let the young man be tender of his own chastity; let him not injure that of another; let him not dissipate his fortune; let him not be eaten up by mortgages; let him not invade another man’s house, nor his reputation: let him not aim slander at the chaste, defilement at the uncorrupted, nor infamy at the worthy; let him terrify none by violence, nor over-reach them by treachery; let him be free from premeditated guilt. Lastly, when he shall obey the calls of pleasure, when he shall allot some part of his time to the diversions of his age, and these trifling pursuits of youth, let him sometimes recall his thoughts to the concerns of his family, the concerns of the forum, the concerns of his country, that he may seem to have discarded through satiety, and despised from experience, those objects which he had not before viewed with the cool eye of reason.

And, indeed, my lords, there have been many great men, and illustrious citizens, in our days, in the days of our fathers and forefathers, in whom, when the ebullitions of youthful desire have subsided, the most excellent virtues have in more advanced life sprung up. I need not descend to particulars; you yourselves may recollect them; for I am unwilling, while I speak of any brave and honourable man, to join the mention of his smallest failing to the praise of his greatest perfection. Did I think myself at liberty to do this, I might produce instances of many great and accomplished persons, and yet touch on the youthful licentiousness of some, on the extravagant luxury, the enormous debt, and expensive pleasures, of others: vices, which afterwards being effaced by many virtues, might be excused by the craving appetite of youth.

CICERO: FOR HIS DAUGHTER

Letters to Atticus

Cicero

Translated by Evelyn S. Shuckburgh, 1900

Cicero was enormously fond of his daughter, Tullia, who apparently took after him. Her premature death in 45 BC, just a month after giving birth to her second son, left him utterly bereft. He wrote to many friends of his grief. His letters to Atticus, of which a number are extracted here, reveal his difficulty in securing a suburban plot upon which to establish a memorial to Tullia as he came to terms with his bereavement.