Introduction: Self-Fashioning and Philosophy

Cicero's letters to Lucius Papirius Paetus (Fam. 9.15–26 = 114, 188–91, 193–8, 362 SB) are some of the most striking in the collected correspondence. The majority can be dated plausibly to the months after July 46 bc, in the febrile period following Caesar's decisive victory over the republican forces in Africa, after which he returned to Rome and was proclaimed dictator for the extraordinary term of ten years.Footnote ¹ At this time Cicero was either at Rome or his Tusculan estate, having sought Caesar's pardon after unhappy involvement in the civil war on the side of Pompey,Footnote ² and Paetus was at his villa in Naples, observing events from a distance and worrying about the impact that Caesar's victory might have on the state of his finances and property. Nothing is known of Paetus outside of Cicero's letters, but it seems that he was an Epicurean—Cicero refers to ‘your Epicurean boozing partners’ (tuis combibonibus Epicuriis)Footnote ³ in a letter from 50 bc (Fam. 9.25.2 = 114 SB)—and that he was well-connected politically, even if he was not ambitious himself. The earliest reference to him is in letters to Atticus from 60 bc, in the context of Cicero's acquisition of a library—Paetus gave Cicero some Greek and Latin books that he had inherited from a cousin (Att. 1.20.7 = 20 SB, 2.1.12 = 21 SB). This episode suggests that Paetus was involved in both intellectual and political circles around Cicero, and indeed Cicero calls him vir bonus amatorque noster—‘a good man and an admirer of mine’ (Att. 1.20.7 = 20 SB; translation mine).Footnote ⁴ The two men evidently had a particularly close and affable personal relationship into the 40s, which shines out despite the anxieties and the dangers of the times: the letters of 46 bc are full of jokes, often risqué or involving references to Epicurean gastronomic indulgence; there are candid worries about money and Caesar's proposals concerning land redistribution and the repayment of debts, which threatened to ruin Paetus financially; Cicero also provides reports on his own activities in the new political settlement under Caesar, often laced with bleak and ironic humour, as well as offering searching critical reflections on his decisions in the past.

It has been observed that philosophy plays an important role in these letters.Footnote ⁵ Furthermore, in her paper ‘Ciceronian “Bi-Marcus”’, one of the few studies to examine closely the letters’ literary dimensions, Eleanor Leach (Reference Leach1999) focuses on Cicero's self-fashioning when writing to Paetus, a topic that has also drawn the attention of others.Footnote ⁶ She makes a telling observation: ‘their [the letters’] self-conscious artistry appears most significant when viewed from an interpretive perspective focused on Cicero's anxieties of personal identity experienced amidst the disorienting circumstances of Caesar's dictatorship’.Footnote ⁷ Drawing heavily on the psychoanalytic theory of Lacan, she argues that Caesar becoming dictator in 46 bc saw Cicero face a psychological or existential crisis, reflected in his letters, ‘in which the erasure of the self was both to be feared and desired’—how could he find a bearable way to keep on living and being ‘Cicero’ given the new realities?Footnote ⁸ Leach then adroitly traces how Cicero presents (and tests out) multiple versions of ‘self’ for his own and Paetus’ contemplation, highlighting his ‘compensatory role-playing’ as he casts himself variously as a teacher of oratory (magister dicendi) to two of Caesar's close associates (Hirtius and Dolabella), as a bon vivant immersed in the Caesarian social scene, and as a man of principle who measures himself against the model of the wise man or sage.Footnote ⁹

In this paper I build on Leach's valuable study by drawing out the full details of the philosophical content of this ‘compensatory role-playing’. Rather than explore Cicero's psychological anxieties about self and personal identity, I focus attention on how in playing these three roles Cicero evokes three distinct philosophical frameworks relating to freedom, as he seeks to accommodate himself to the new realities. Cicero does this largely by means of explicit name-dropping—in these letters he refers by name to Plato (Fam. 9.22 = 189 SB) and Dionysius of Syracuse (Fam. 9.18 = 191 SB), the Stoic Zeno of Citium (Fam. 9.22 = 189 SB), and the hedonists Epicurus (Fam. 9.20 = 193 SB) and Aristippus the Socratic (Fam. 9.26 = 197 SB)—in addition to his liberal use of philosophical jokes, arguments, and more oblique modes of allusion. At a general level, it is apparent that Cicero is engaging in the kind of philosophical practice that one would expect of a flexible Academic sceptic: he applies whatever models and arguments he considers most effective or congenial given the situation or the role he is playing, and he gives provisional assent to whatever seems most persuasive or reasonable in the circumstances.Footnote ¹⁰ However, the details of how he does this, and to what effect, remain to be untangled. This paper undertakes that task and makes clear the ways in which Cicero exploits the resources of the Greek philosophical tradition in his self-fashioning in the letters to Paetus.

In the first section I examine how Cicero uses the examples of Plato and Dionysius of Syracuse to frame his playing of the role of magister dicendi. The role could be seen as humiliating for a man of Cicero's standing or as indicative of his willing collusion with Caesar, but Cicero uses allusions to Plato and Dionysius to frame his choices and actions in the highly charged and extraordinary context of tyranny. In the second section I examine Cicero's striking claim in Fam. 9.20 (= 193 SB) to be embracing Epicurean hedonism as he immerses himself in Caesarian social circles. I argue that this self-portrayal is complicated by a positive allusion in Fam. 9.26 (= 197 SB) to the philosopher Aristippus, whose distinctive brand of hedonism Cicero routinely differentiates from Epicureanism. By comparing himself with Aristippus the Socratic, Cicero brings into play a different philosophical framework and signals that, even when playing the hedonist in the company of victorious Caesarians, he remains independent and in control of his situation. In the final section I examine Cicero's reflections on the suicide of Cato in the framework of Stoic philosophy. Here I show how Cicero promotes Plato as a superior practical model for acting in accordance with Stoic moral commitments: his example, which Cicero professes to follow, demonstrates how it is possible to accommodate oneself to the demands of force while maintaining one's freedom, virtue, and integrity.

Plato, Dionysius the Tyrant, and Cicero as magister dicendi

Cicero's concerns about the limits of freedom under Caesar are especially prominent in Fam. 9.16 (= 190 SB), which contains the first reference to Cicero acting as a teacher of oratory (magister dicendi). Cicero opens the letter by responding to Paetus’ concerns that Cicero's jokes and bad mouthing might be reaching Caesar from informants, and that Cicero would be in danger as a result. Cicero says that he is taking great care to regulate his joking and frank speech, for which he was famous, since he is well aware of the reports that go to Caesar and of the dangers of the times (Fam. 9.16.1–4 = 190 SB).Footnote ¹¹ Cicero makes it clear to Paetus that there are now real limitations on freedom, and in particular on freedom of speech: ut enim olim arbitrabar esse meum libere loqui, cuius opera esset in civitate libertas, sic ea nunc amissa nihil loqui quod offendat aut illius aut eorum qui ab illo diliguntur voluntatem (‘Time was when I thought free speech became me, for was not the existence of freedom in the community my doing? Now that freedom is lost, I think it no less becomes me to say nothing offensive to his sentiments or to those of people he likes’, Fam. 9.16.3 = 190 SB). As a result, Cicero has moderated his speech and behaviour: sed tamen eius ipsius nulla re a me offensus est animus, est enim adhibita in ea re ipsa summa a nobis moderatio (‘However, I have done nothing to offend Caesar's personal sensibilities. In that very particular I have been extremely careful to regulate my speech and conduct’, Fam. 9.16.3 = 190 SB). These comments make clear that the old republican norms surrounding libertas have gone, and that the norms of tyranny pertain instead.

Cicero then proceeds to argue that even under tyranny there are still ways for the individual to be free—by following the examples of the philosophers Socrates and Plato:Footnote ¹²

Although Cicero refers sweepingly to the ‘records of Greece’, the examples of the ‘wisest men’ bearing despotisms at Athens and Syracuse strongly bring to mind the Platonic Seventh Letter in particular.Footnote ¹³ The actions of Socrates under the Thirty Tyrants at Athens are recounted by Plato early in the letter: Socrates was ordered by the Thirty to arrest a condemned citizen so that he might be put to death, but he simply refused to collaborate despite the risk of punishment (7.324e1–325a4). And the Seventh Letter as a whole is an apologia defending Plato himself against accusations of collusion and active support of the tyrant Dionysius of Syracuse. Plato recounts that he had willingly gone to Syracuse to act as a teacher to Dionysius for the second time because he had reason to believe he could make a positive difference (7.337e3–341a3). Things did not turn out as hoped and he became trapped with the tyrant against his will. Despite what outward appearances might suggest, however, he maintained his principles and did not collaborate with the tyrannical regime (7.345a6–350b6). At this point of Fam. 9.16 (= 190 SB) the reader is encouraged to make positive moral judgements about Cicero in the general framework of the Seventh Letter: under a tyranny one can willingly collaborate, leave, or go into exile (if it is possible), or actively resist and accept death; but one can also follow the examples of the ‘wisest men’, by adapting to the realities of superior force while maintaining one's moral integrity—which is just how Cicero presents his actions in the immediately preceding section of this letter (Fam. 9.16.5–6 = 190 SB).Footnote ¹⁴

It is worth noting that Cicero had done something like this before. In the early stages of the civil war (in 49 bc) Cicero also drew on the Platonic Seventh Letter in his letters to Atticus to frame his relationship with Caesar as being like that of Plato with the tyrant Dionysius—a principled intellectual seeking to advise and influence a powerful man for the good of the political community.Footnote ¹⁵ Like Plato, Cicero's efforts failed and he found himself in much the same predicament: after Caesar's stunning advances and Pompey's flight from Italy, Cicero compared himself to Plato trapped unwillingly with the tyrant, like a bird longing to fly away (Att. 9.10.2 = 177 SB, 9.13.4 = 180 SB). Cicero alluded to the Platonic Seventh Letter to highlight Caesar's coercive power and his own firm resolve not to be seen as giving him legitimacy, despite being in Italy and having intimate personal connections to him. Cicero ultimately left Italy and joined up with the forces of Pompey, but, as Fam. 9.16.6 (= 190 SB) indicates, after his return to Italy and his acceptance of Caesar's pardon, the model seems to have kept its appeal.

At Fam. 9.16.7 (= 190 SB) there is the first reference to Cicero acting as a teacher of oratory (magister dicendi) to Hirtius and Dolabella:

In a general sense, Cicero's position as teacher recalls Plato's role with Dionysius at Syracuse, and there appear to be similar concerns about the reputational impact of teaching Hirtius and Dolabella declamation in his home: Cicero signals that it was considered a notable item of news at Rome that might make its way to Paetus in Naples along with other things; and there is the veiled implication that people were talking about it and judging him critically.Footnote ¹⁶ Cicero does not go into more detail about his role as magister dicendi in Fam. 9.16 (= 190 SB), as attention moves to witty joking about lavish food and dinner parties (Fam. 9.16.7–10 = 190 SB). However, the following letter (Fam. 9.18 = 191 SB) addresses the topic in considerable detail, and it is worth quoting the opening sections at length:Footnote ¹⁷

There are two particularly striking elements in this passage: (1) Cicero's comparison of himself with the tyrant Dionysius of Syracuse rather than with Plato; (2) his claim that being a school master is a ‘plan’ (consilium) of his own in the current circumstances, better than alternative plans such as suicide or death in battle against Caesar, which have been chosen by Cato and others.

The tyrant Dionysius is usually a negative figure in Cicero's estimation—indeed, although not named explicitly, he appeared as such in the preceding letter (Fam. 9.16.6 = 190 SB).Footnote ¹⁸ In a letter to Atticus from the early stages of the civil war in March 49 bc, Cicero refers to the proverb ‘Dionysius in Corinth’ pejoratively with respect to the optimates, insinuating that they were prepared to accept a diminished position under Caesar, so long as they kept some semblance of power (Att. 9.9.1 = 176 SB).Footnote ¹⁹ And later, in his Tusculan Disputations, the example of Dionysius becoming a school master in Corinth is used to illustrate a very negative point about the desire for dominion over others: est autem impudens luctus maerore se conficientis, quod imperare non liceat liberis. Dionysius quidem tyrannus Syracusis expulsus Corinthi pueros docebat; usque eo imperio carere non poterat (‘Indeed, lamentation is shameless for the man wasting himself in grief because he is not permitted to hold dominion over free men. Dionysius the tyrant, in fact, having been expelled from Syracuse began to teach boys at Corinth; so completely was he unable to do without power’, 3.26–7; translation mine). Why, then, should Cicero here compare himself to Dionysius in the guise of school master?

Read as a piece of witty badinage, the reference to Dionysius tyrannus conjures a humorous image of Cicero holding a position as absolute ruler over his students (discipuli) Hirtius and Dolabella in his school (ludus). This is a pointed role-reversal of their relationship outside that environment. As alluded to in Fam. 9.16.6 (= 190 SB), in reality it is Caesar who is the tyrant and Cicero the subject who, like Plato, has to find a way to bear a tyrannical regime with some degree of dignity and personal liberty. Moreover, in that letter Cicero calls Hirtius and Dolabella his magistri when it comes to dining, where he is but a discipulus under their authority. By comparing himself to Dionysius as school master Cicero thus has some fun flipping the power dynamic, while still maintaining the general framework of Plato and the tyrant of Syracuse evoked in Fam. 9.16 (= 190 SB). That said, the allusion to Dionysius opening a school at Corinth should also be read more pessimistically: it conjures an image of a fallen or diminished person who has lost political power and finds a substitute in teaching because of a deep psychological need to have some semblance of authority. Similarly, Cicero was an ambitious man who once was politically powerful, who indeed had a forensic kingdom (regnum) as oratory was a realm where he reigned supreme. Now, however, he finds a lowly place in the schoolroom, where declamation is a pale imitation of the exercise of his oratorical talents and authority in previous times.Footnote ²⁰ In this sense Cicero compares himself with Dionysius (and not Plato) as a way of acknowledging his own belittling and diminishment.

Cicero's depiction of this teacher-student role-playing is ironic while making a serious point. On the one hand, it is farcical that they are playing these respective roles given the reality of the political circumstances and the fact that they are actually prominent Roman statesmen, Cicero a sixty-year-old ex-consul and Hirtius and Dolabella senior military and political figures, rather than a master and boys in a school (ludus). Leach pursues this line of interpretation. She asserts that the declamatory exercise ‘is all the same a parody of occupation and a subject of sport’ and notes the way Cicero ‘puns upon the double meaning, both legal and culinary, of ius’ in Fam. 9.18.3 (= 191 SB).Footnote ²¹ The letter can then be read as insinuating that nobody (least of all Cicero himself) is taking his adoption of the role of magister dicendi very seriously: it is a sort of charade in which he trades ‘useless rhetorical skills for exquisite food’.Footnote ²² But, given Cicero's practice when alluding to Dionysius in Corinth elsewhere, it would appear that a bleakly serious point is also being made about his adoption of the role: in the same manner that he accused the optimates in 49 bc, Cicero intimates that he has found it preferable to accept under Caesar any position with a semblance of authority rather than obscurity or worse, even though it is to be a Dionysius in Corinth.

Alongside the comparison with Dionysius, with all the negative connotations it raises, the motives behind Cicero's adoption of the role of magister dicendi are explained in a more detailed and endearing fashion. In the early part of the letter Cicero refers to his plan (consilium), which is to set up something like a school (ludum quasi habere coeperim) now that he cannot speak in the law-courts (his form of expulsion to parallel Dionysius’ banishment from Syracuse). Cicero then carefully outlines some benefits of this course of action. As well as his opening comment, which signals that his students are friends with Caesar and so may be useful in getting Cicero into Caesar's good graces (an opportunity that he tells Paetus he has deliberately exploited by sending his students to meet him),Footnote ²³ he offers three reasons: (1) it allows him some protection from the hazards of the times; it is not clear what this amounts to exactly, beyond keeping his life, but it is a better plan than suffering the fate of suicide or death in battle; (2) it boosts his health since he may keep up his oratorical skills, which require a high degree of physical fitness, through declaiming in the schoolroom rather than in the courts or the Senate, venues which are now closed to him (Fam. 9.18.3 = 191 SB); (3) it offers the pleasures of fine dining at Rome, as he now has a place at Hirtius’ table; and, it is implied, his place in Caesarian social circles, resting at least in part on his position as teacher of oratory, provides some financial security (Fam. 9.18.3–4 = 191 SB).

Cicero thus indicates in Fam. 9.18 (= 191 SB) that he has made a deliberate choice to play the role of magister dicendi as a result of calculations about the best course of action in the existing circumstances. The repeated use of consilium (‘plan’) stresses that Cicero is in control: he is freely making a conscious decision to adopt the role given the alternatives on offer, rather than simply submitting bitterly to a humiliating commission placed on him by Caesar.Footnote ²⁴ Here Cicero can be seen as giving his assent to the most reasonable course of action following a process of rational deliberation, which is what one would expect from an Academic sceptic. Cicero further frames his playing of the role by alluding to the examples of Plato in Fam. 9.16 (= 190 SB) and Dionysius in Fam. 9.18 (= 191 SB): like Plato under the tyrant, he is someone who has never lost sight of what is right and who appropriately adjusts his conduct given the practical constraints he faces; but, like Dionysius in Corinth, he is a diminished figure and retains only a modicum of status and authority as a school master to Hirtius and Dolabella. This impression is reinforced by his depiction of Hirtius and Dolabella as his masters (magistri) when it comes to dining. It is striking for a consular like Cicero to depict himself as a student in such a directly subordinate position, but it is surely telling that it is linked with social contact with supporters of Caesar. At this point let us turn to a second performative role that runs alongside that of the magister dicendi in the letters to Paetus: Cicero the bon vivant.

Epicurus, Aristippus, and Cicero as bon vivant

Cicero's depiction of himself in the role of discipulus of dining is cast in a philosophical framework most clearly in Fam. 9.20 (= 193 SB), dated to early August 46 bc. In the middle of much joking about Cicero's appetite and his new gastronomic pretentions (Fam. 9.20.1–2 = 193 SB), Cicero boldly declares that he has gone Epicurean, with a total rejection of politics and forensic matters in favour of hedonistic indulgence:

Why should Cicero tell Paetus that he has wholeheartedly decided to become an Epicurean, on top of the usual banter about food and dining? It can be read as funny for the simple reason that Cicero had indeed given up political affairs and was indeed attending all those lavish dinner parties: to all intents and purposes he had embraced the stereotypical pursuits of Epicurean hedonism (which are routinely the subject of his scorn),Footnote ²⁵ and so he really had joined the camp of his old philosophical adversary Epicurus. There is also the inkling that Cicero is making a political statement here. The camp of Epicurus might be seen as representing the camp of Caesar and company, his old adversaries in the civil war with whom he now associates.Footnote ²⁶ Cicero would then be using philosophical badinage to cushion an admission that he has essentially thrown his lot in with them.

The joking tone at the start of the letter encourages such readings, but Cicero's claim to have gone Epicurean sets up a very serious point that is developed as the letter progresses. Cicero clearly indicates that his adoption of this mode of life is a monumental development for him personally as it means giving up the political life that involves the affairs of the res publica, speaking in the Senate, and forensic work. This is confirmed in the final part of the letter, where there is a shift to a more sombre tone as he describes his current vita (‘mode of life’):

The letter as a whole actually revolves around a familiar Ciceronian hierarchy of lives: the best is a political life in a free res publica; then comes the life dedicated to letters, which is quite respectable but linked to otium and retirement from politics; finally, a life dedicated to the pleasures of the body, which is not respectable at all.Footnote ²⁷ The letter describes Cicero's current choice of life, which appears towards the bottom of the usual hierarchy—a rejection of politics and the pursuit of a blend of literary work and the claims of the body (in effect, the Epicurean life). He makes it clear, however, that the choice is imposed by the extreme circumstances: it has only been chosen because of the death of the Roman patria.Footnote ²⁸

Cicero's adoption of an explicitly Epicurean persona in Fam. 9.20 (= 193 SB) is recast in Fam. 9.26 (= 197 SB), dated to mid-November 46 bc. Cicero professes to be writing the letter while attending a dinner party at the home of Volumnius Eutrapelus, a supporter of Caesar and quite probably an Epicurean (Fam. 9.26.1 = 197 SB).Footnote ²⁹ He draws attention to the topic of freedom—miraris tam exhilaratam esse servitutem nostram? (‘Does it surprise you that we have become such a merry lot of slaves?’ Fam. 9.26.1 = 197 SB)—before reflecting again on his choice of life:

Cicero offers some justification for his choice. The reasoning here is very candid and matter of fact. Of course, there is a morally principled course of action, but what is it going to achieve in practice given the realities of political power beyond pain and suffering?Footnote ³⁰ Of course, literary pursuits are more noble than the pleasures of the body, but even they have their limits. All things considered, most importantly the fact that he is really in a state of servitude rather than in a free res publica, the life that involves hedonistic as well as literary pursuits is the best choice available (even if he cares little for the affairs of the body). In Fam. 9.20 (= 193 SB) this mode of life was associated explicitly with Epicurus, but in Fam. 9.26 (= 197 SB) that identification is made problematic. Cicero now professes to care very little about dinner (a standard Epicurean concern and something he had stressed in previous letters—Fam. 9.16.7–9, 9.18.3–4, 9.19, 9.20 = 190, 191, 193, 194 SB),Footnote ³¹ his penning the letter in the middle of the party can be taken as him distancing himself from his Caesarian dining companions,Footnote ³² and his routine scorn appears later in this letter with regard to the Epicurean philosopher Dio, whom he calls ille baro (‘that dunce’; Fam. 9.26.3 = 197 SB).Footnote ³³ Rather than Epicureanism, with its Caesarian connotations, Cicero proceeds to align himself with a different hedonist model.

In the second part of the letter Cicero sets Paetus up as someone accusing him of indecorous and even scandalous behaviour. He uses a literary quotation to depict himself as a man who used to be a leading pinnacle of virtue but who has now fallen into disrepute owing to the company that he keeps: infra Eutrapelum Cytheris accubuit. ‘in eo igitur’, inquis, ‘convivio Cicero ille’ quem aspectabant, cuius ob os Grai ora obvertebant sua? (‘Cytheris lay down next to Eutrapelus. “So”, I hear you say, “Cicero at such a party”, He the admired, upon whose countenance the Greeks all turned their eyes?’; Fam. 9.26.2 = 197 SB).Footnote ³⁴ In his defence he pleads ignorance (non mehercule suspicatus sum illam adfore; Fam. 9.26.2 = 197 SB) before claiming the hedonist philosopher Aristippus as an ally:

Aristippus’ quip ἔχω, ἀλλ’ οὐκ ἔχομαι (‘I have her, but I am not had by her’; or, reading ἔχομαι as middle voice, ‘I have her, but I do not cling to her’) was famous in antiquity.Footnote ³⁵ Following the report of Diogenes Laertius (2.74–5),Footnote ³⁶ it can be seen as a pithy riposte to accusations that he has violated expected norms of behaviour by being completely infatuated with the prostitute Lais: rather than shamefully being a passive slave to Lais and his sexual desires (as he might appear to others), Aristippus deftly signals that he is really in full control, actively possessing her for his own pleasure (and mastery of pleasure, he says, is better than abstaining); but he is not clinging to Lais and would be fine if circumstances changed and the relationship ended. Aristippus is going with the flow, making the most of the (sexual) pleasures available to him in the present.Footnote ³⁷ With the allusion Cicero indicates that he is doing something similar in his enjoyment of the dinner party (and the presence of Cytheris), while making it clear that he does not mean in any sexual sense.Footnote ³⁸ And he indicates that, like Aristippus, he is in full control of his situation.

In addition to being an opportunistic piece of learned and witty badinage given the presence of Cytheris, this bit of name-dropping brings into play a new philosophical framework for judging Cicero as he associates with Caesarian figures at such dinner parties: Cyrenaic as opposed to Epicurean hedonism. Cicero presents Aristippus as the founding figure of the Cyrenaic school at De oratore 3.62,Footnote ³⁹ and he contrasts aspects of Cyrenaic hedonism with that of the Epicureans in De finibus (2.18–20, 2.34–5, 2.39–41) and the Tusculan Disputations (3.28–51).Footnote ⁴⁰ Cicero typically presents Aristippus and the Cyrenaics more respectfully than Epicurus and the Epicureans, perhaps owing to Aristippus’ position as a follower of Socrates (De or. 3.62; Fin. 1.23, 1.26).Footnote ⁴¹ As an Academic philosopher who weighs the strengths and weaknesses of competing arguments and claims, Cicero is even prepared at times to give his assent to Cyrenaic philosophical practices. Thus, in the Tusculan Disputations he comments favourably on the therapeutic value of steeling oneself against ills or misfortunes in the manner of the Cyrenaics, who maintain that the anticipation of suffering evils in the future makes bearing them easier since they have long been foreseen (3.28–30). Cicero asserts that he himself has accepted these weapons (arma) from the Cyrenaics owing to their effectiveness (3.31),Footnote ⁴² while at the same time he strongly rejects the views of the Epicureans (3.28–51).Footnote ⁴³

The differing attitudes that Cicero has towards the two traditions can also be read into these letters to Paetus. Cicero's hedonist role-playing then takes on a new colouring with the allusion to Aristippus. On the surface Cicero plays the Epicurean and appears to have attached himself to the victorious Caesarians, leaving himself open to criticism on that score. However, the allusion to Aristippus places Cicero in a different framework to Epicureanism and his Caesarian companions. Furthermore, the connotations surrounding Aristippus’ quip create the impression that Cicero really remains independent and in control of his situation, even though things might appear differently to others. Despite the overarching state of servitude admitted at the start of Fam. 9.26 (= 197 SB), it is insinuated that Cicero remains his own master as he plays the role of bon vivant in Caesarian social space.

Stoicism, Plato, and Cicero as Man of Principle

At the opening of Fam. 9.22 (= 189 SB) Cicero declares that there is a big dispute between the Stoic Zeno and the Academy concerning freedom of speech (amo verecundiam!—vel potius libertatem loquendi. atqui hoc Zenoni placuit, homini mehercule acuto, etsi Academiae nostrae cum eo magna rixa est, Fam. 9.22.1 = 189 SB).Footnote ⁴⁴ Pouncing on Paetus’ use of the obscene term mentula, Cicero then offers a long and mischievously ribald presentation of the Stoic case for why we should call everything by its proper name and reject concerns about obscenity and causing offense, treating Paetus to a virtuoso display of joking, clever wordplay, and double entendre (Fam. 9.22.1–3 = 189 SB). After doing so, Cicero declares that he himself follows the verecundia (‘modesty’) of Plato: ego servo et servabo (sic enim adsuevi) Platonis vercecundiam. itaque tectis verbis ea ad te scripsi quae apertissimis agunt Stoici (‘For myself, I adhere (and shall so continue, since it is my habit) to the modesty of Plato. That is why I have written to you in guarded language on a theme which the Stoics handle with complete freedom’, Fam. 9.22.4 = 189 SB). The letter as a whole, which Cicero describes as ‘a Stoic lecture’ (schola Stoica), demonstrates how Cicero can in practice hold the essential Stoic position that ‘the wise man will call it as it is’ (ὁ σοφὸς ɛὐθυρρημονήσɛι; Fam. 9.22.4 = 189 SB) by following the model of Plato; and it may in fact be a more effective approach than that offered by Zeno and plain speaking Stoics of his ilk.Footnote ⁴⁵

This accord between Stoic ethical commitments and Plato as a model for practical action frames a sequence of letters in which Cicero further addresses the themes of freedom, moral integrity, and appropriate conduct. Consider the following passage:

Miriam Griffin (Reference Griffin and Powell1995, 335–7) argues convincingly that Cicero here engages with two Stoic paradoxes: (1) that virtue is the only good, vice the only evil; (2) that virtue is sufficient for happiness. These paradoxes dictate that the wise man (sapiens) is answerable only for guilt (culpa) and that he is also impervious to the vicissitudes of fortune. Cicero judges himself against the model of the wise man and returns a positive verdict: he insists that he has not renounced his moral principles or gone astray in his reasoning, but by taking into account the constraining realities of force he has not rashly acted on them or been outspoken against those in power.Footnote ⁴⁶ He thus has a clear conscience about his conduct both in the past and in the present, and his virtue cannot be harmed by fortune or the envy of others.

Lurking behind Cicero's engagement with the sage or wise man is the example of Cato and his suicide at Utica. Cato was a committed Stoic and his actions could be seen as exemplary: this is what the wise man will do in this situation. In Fam. 9.16 (= 190 SB) Cicero develops the line that there are in fact alternative actions that the wise man might choose to pursue. Moreover, at Fam. 9.18.2 (= 191 SB) he comments directly on Cato's death: ‘I have only to see that it does not become so much a matter of necessity for me as it was for him. I am doing just that’. In his self-fashioning Cicero clearly differentiates himself from Cato while remaining with him when it comes to moral integrity: it is not the commitment to virtue that differs between them but rather their practical actions in accordance with that commitment. Cicero's particular circumstances with Caesar are the key distinguishing factor. Cato had a deeply antagonistic relationship with Caesar, which left him no principled option but suicide. Cicero's relationship was different and so he had other options. We have seen already how he depicts his relationship with Caesar as being like that of Plato with the tyrant Dionysius. Cicero signals that so long as he keeps those conditions with Caesar he can act in the fashion of Plato, whose conduct under tyranny is a model to follow (Fam. 9.16.6 = 190 SB), rather than of Cato. That involves not offending the sensibilities of Caesar (Fam. 9.16.3 = 190 SB) and not acting or speaking rashly against those in power (Fam. 9.16.5 = 190 SB), which can also be seen as reflecting his stated practice of adhering to the verecundia of Plato (Fam. 9.22.4 = 189 SB).

The issue of maintaining freedom and moral integrity in conditions of servitude is prominent once more in Fam. 9.17 (= 195 SB), a letter in which Cicero responds to Paetus’ worries about what is going to happen in the future in the light of Caesar's possible plans to confiscate land and redistribute it to his veterans. Cicero develops his reasoning in the same philosophical framework that combines Stoic moral commitments with Platonic practice. In the opening section of the letter, Cicero stresses the need to take into account the realities of superior force when choosing how best to live and how to face the uncertainties of the future. He baldly states that he is not interested in what might happen in the future (Fam. 9.17.1 = 195 SB). He then asserts that even though the free res publica has ceased to be and a new constraining set of circumstances has emerged, dictated by force of arms, a bearable life (vita) is possible for those willing to accept whatever is conceded to them by those in power (fiet enim quodcumque volent qui valebunt; valebunt autem semper arma. satis igitur nobis esse debet quicquid conceditur; Fam. 9.17.1 = 195 SB). If it is impossible to bear living like this, then the other option is death (hoc si qui pati non potuit, mori debuit; Fam. 9.17.1 = 195 SB), presumably following the example of Cato. Here Cicero reaffirms his assent to the practical model of Plato, even in conditions of uncertainty going forward.

The remainder of the letter stresses the need to avoid worrying about what is beyond one's control, a central directive of Stoic philosophy.Footnote ⁴⁷ Cicero says that he can bear whatever happens without fear (nihil tamen timeo) while enjoying whatever is allowed to him for the time being (fruor dum licet, opto ut semper liceat; Fam. 9.17.2 = 195 SB). He expresses some doubt about how long that might continue, but as a philosopher he has considered life a very fine thing (ego vir fortis idemque philosophus vivere pulcherrimum duxi) and is grateful that Caesar has granted him it (Fam. 9.17.2 = 195 SB). Here Cicero makes it clear that he himself is going with the flow, making the most of whatever is available to him, and that everything depends on the will of Caesar. The following part of the letter is laced with irony: they are all slaves to Caesar, but he too is a slave to the circumstances and does not know what will happen, and so discerning what he has in mind is impossible (nos enim illi servimus, ipse temporibus. ita nec ille quid tempora postulatura sint nec nos quid ille cogitet scire possumus; Fam. 9.17.3 = 195 SB). This all pushes the letter's central Stoic message: do not worry about what is outside your control; make the most of whatever is possible in the present. The concluding comment makes the point bluntly: tu tamen pro tua sapientia debebis optare optima, cogitare difficillima, ferre quaecumque erunt (‘But you are a man of sense, and as such you should pray for the best, contemplate the worst, and bear whatever happens’, Fam. 9.17.4 = 195 SB).

In sum, when playing the man of principle who measures himself against the model of the wise man, Cicero frames his conduct and his reasoning in terms of Stoic moral theory and the practical example of Plato. This is most obvious when the focus is on comparing himself against the example of Cato. Cicero uses these philosophical frameworks to make it clear to Paetus that accommodation to circumstances is not a moral failure, even on Stoic terms, so long as it is not a path chosen because of fear or other irrational desires, such as a hankering for a share in Caesar's spoils, but rather is the result of a process of thinking rationally about all the relevant factors. That is the practice of the Academic philosopher, that allows a real degree of freedom and autonomy, and that is what Cicero does. Cicero's philosophical role-playing thus transforms what might seem to be craven accommodation to circumstances into something edifying and morally upstanding.