1807.] 
{to whom I have the honour ‘of being 
executor), among whofe papers I found 
afew loofe jeux @efprit of the nature 
above deferibed, which, I have every 
reafon to fuppote, he intended to have 
increafed to an ample collection, and 
publithed under fome fuch title as “ Ro- 
man Letters.” 
Under this appellation, I beg leave to 
fend you the only pieces-I haye yet 
found, which, you will fee, have been 
written very haftily, but which you are 
very welcome to intert in your excellent 
Magazine, if agreeable. 
Tam, Sir, yours, &c. 
VaRRO. 
Afinius Pollio to Cornelius Balbus. 
<6 MY DEAR CORNELIUS, 
“ T CAN by no means agree with you 
in your opinion of our old friend Cicero’s 
character. I know he defended your 
uncle extremely well, in that caufe about 
the freedom of the city, on the ground 
of Pompey’s aét, about which fo much 
ftir was made by the government; but it 
1s difagreeable to rip up old fores: fo no 
more on that fubject. You don’t know, 
perhaps, that he was at the bottom of 
the oppofition which was raifed againtt 
your having a triumph for your exploits 
among the Garamantes; but you mult 
have been informed of (what 1s notorious 
to all the world) the part he took in the 
year 700, when your uncle prefled him 
to remain neuter in Pompey’s concerns, 
which has fully acquitted your family of 
all obligations it might have formerly 
conceived itfelf under to him. 
But what has all this to do with the 
charge which you fo zealoufly attempt to 
confute? Believe me, Balbus, I have 
had many opportunities of judging, which 
your fituation has denicd to you. It is 
more for the honour of the Academy, 
than out of perfonal refpect to Cicero, 
that you infiit on the felidity of his pre- 
tenfions to continence and temperance. 
Tave you never heard your father fpeak 
of that W— Cerellia? When you were 
laft at Tufculum, did Tully himfelf thew 
you none of her letters to him? But 
you will fay, thofe letters breathed no 
other fpirit than that of the pureft phi- 
lofophy: as if any woman ever became 
a philofopher, before the had facrificed 
ali pretenfions to that character. No, 
no, my friend; we old fellows, who have 
all our days breathed the ipirit of the 
Efquiline Hill, know more of thefe mat- 
ters than the unexperienced burgliers of 
AWorduba and Gades, Cerellia was a 
Roman Letters. 
t41 
painted Jezebel, and no better philofo- 
pher in her heart than Pericles’s miitrefs, 
Afpatia, 
{ fupped once at Antony’s box on the 
Appian road, expecting to meet a feleé 
company of merry fellows, with a few 
fine girls, to give a zelt to the entertain- 
ment. Upon my arrival, I found Ane 
tony; and Cytheris téte-a-téte, which, as 
I thought myfelf late, fomewhat difcon- 
certed me; but judge how I was alfto~ 
nifhed, when he told me that he exe 
pected Cicero and this fame Czrellia, to 
complete the company. Now, as I knew 
Cerellia had been always reputed a 
prude, I could not forbear catiing a few 
fide clances at Antony’s good lady, ex- 
preilive of my aftonifament at her being 
prefent at fo grave and ferious a party. 
She fimled at my confution, and took 
my well-meant hints with infinite good. 
humour. “I don’t believe you know 
Cerellia,” the fignificantly added, ‘‘ the’s 
a fine woman, and a very able difpue 
tant.” 
Cytheris was now interrupted by four 
diftinét and philofophical raps at the 
fore-door, the well-known fignal of our 
old hypocrite’s approach. Antony, whe 
was loilmg on a couch, too fat aud lazy 
to fiir, exclaimed, “ For the fake of 
Cafior and Poilux, my good Citty, go 
and do the honours of the houfe for me. 
I am confoundedly done up by our de- 
bauch laft night at Cotta’s, and feel the 
crepula rifing in my ftomach. Cicero is 
too formal and precife to come in with- 
out -a regular mtroduction, according to 
etfjuecite.” 
He had fcarce fpcken, when the door 
opened, and Cerellia made her appears 
ance. She entered with a low courtefy, 
covering her ugly face with an Eoyptian 
fan, and took her féat without more ce- 
mony. She was 1nmediately followed 
by the orator, who advanced fimpering 
to Mark, in a fort of Lydian dancing- 
ftep, and with a genteel neglizence of 
air and deportment, bis hair curled as 
nicely as Clodius’s, his toga fantattically 
tucked up to his knees with a rofe-coe 
loured ribbon, a neat rattan cane in one 
hand, and an ebony fnuf-box in the 
other. His gay appearance was, indeed, 
fomewhat overcait on obferving me as.I 
ftood next the fire-place, and his airy fep 
began to aflame fomething of philoto- 
phical folemnity, till Antony obferved, 
“There are none but friends, Cicero, 
You know. my old comrade Pollio—ag 
jolly an Epicurean as ever exifted. "Tj, 
my rule to banifh all diftinction when [ 
am 
