excellent piece of news. I saw all your heart in
your letter."

[Footnote 9: See page 277.]

Cicero's letters to the invalid are at first very frequent. One is dated
on the third, another on the fifth, and a third on the seventh of
November; and on the eighth of the month there are no fewer than three,
the first of them apparently in answer to a letter from Tiro. "I am
variously affected by your letter--much troubled by the first page, a
little comforted by the second. The result is that I now say, without
hesitation, till you are quite strong, do not trust yourself to travel
either by land of sea. I shall see you as soon as I wish if I see you
quite restored." He goes on to criticise the doctor's prescriptions.
Soup was not the right thing to give to a dyspeptic patient. Tiro is not
to spare any expense. Another fee to the doctor might make him more
attentive. In another letter he regrets that the invalid had felt
himself compelled to accept an invitation to a concert, and tells him
that he had left a horse and mule for him at Brundisium. Then, after a
brief notice of public affairs, he returns to the question of the
voyage. "I must again ask you not to be rash in your traveling. Sailors,
I observe, make too much haste to increase their profits. Be cautious,
my dear Tiro. You have a wide and dangerous sea to traverse. If you can,
come with Mescinius. He is wont to be careful in his voyages. If not
with him, come with a person of distinction, who will have influence
with the captain." In another letter he tells Tiro that he must revive
his love of letters and learning. The physician thought that his mind
was ill at ease; for this the best remedy was occupation. In another he
writes: "I have received your letter with its shaky handwriting; no
wonder, indeed, seeing how serious has been your illness. I send you
Aegypta (probably a superior slave) to wait upon you, and a cook with
him." Cicero could not have shown more affectionate care of a sick son.

Tiro is said to have written a life of his master. And we certainly owe
to his care the preservation of his correspondence. His weak health did
not prevent him from living to the age of a hundred and three.

Cicero pursued his homeward journey by slow stages, and it was not till
November 25th that he reached Italy. His mind was distracted between
two anxieties--the danger of civil war, which he perceived to be daily
growing more imminent, and an anxious desire to have hi