On Old Age, On Friendship, On Divination

CICERO

Now, however, it has seemed good to me to write something about old age
2 for you. For I wish both you and myself to be relieved of this burden, which I share with you, of an old age that is either already pressing upon us or at least approaching. Although, as for you, I know for certain that you bear it, and will continue to bear it, with moderation and wisdom, just as you do all things. But when I wished to write something about old age, you came to mind as worthy of this gift, which both of us might enjoy in common. To me, indeed, the composition of this book has been so pleasant that it has not only wiped away all the annoyances of old age, but has even made old age itself seem gentle and pleasant. Therefore, philosophy can never be praised highly enough, for the one who obeys it can spend every period of his life without distress.

3 But about other matters, we have said much and shall say much again: I have sent this book to you concerning old age. I have attributed the entire discourse not to Tithonus, as Aristo of Ceos did—for there would be little authority in a myth—but to the elder Marcus Cato, so that the speech might have greater authority. In his presence, I represent Laelius and Scipio as admiring the fact that he bears his age so easily, and him responding to them. If he shall appear to argue more learnedly than he was accustomed to do in his own books, attribute it to Greek literature, of which it is well known he was very studious in his old age. But why is there a need for more? For now, the speech of Cato himself will explain our entire opinion regarding old age.

Cicero was then 62, Atticus 65.