CATO, Marcus Porcius, or Cato of Utica, was great-grandson of Cato the Censor. It is said that from his infancy he discovered, by his speech, his countenance, and even by his childish sports and recreations, an inflexibility of mind; for he forced himself to execute whatever he had undertaken, though the task was ill suited to his strength. He was rough towards those who flattered him, and quite untractable when threatened; he was rarely seen to laugh, or even to smile, and not easily provoked to anger; but if once incensed he was scarcely to be pacified. Sylla having conceived a friendship for the father of Cato, sent often for him and his brother, and talked familiarly with them. Cato, who was then about fourteen years of age, seeing the heads of great men brought there, and observing the sighs of those who were present, asked his preceptor, why does nobody kill this man? Because, said the other, he is more feared than he is hated. The boy replied, why then did you not give me a sword when you brought me hither, that I might have stabbed him, and freed my country from this slavery?
He learned the principles of the Stoic philosophy, which so well suited his character, under Antipater of Tyre, and applied himself diligently to the study of it. Eloquence he likewise cultivated as a necessary means of defending the cause of justice, and made considerable proficiency in that art. To increase his bodily strength, he inured himself to suffer the extremes of heat and cold; and used to make journeys on foot and bare-headed in all seasons. When he was sick, patience and abstinence were his only remedies; he shut himself up, and would see nobody till he became well. Though remarkably sober in the beginning of his life, making it a rule to drink but once after supper and then retire, he insensibly contracted a habit of drinking more freely, and of sitting at table till morning. His friends endeavoured to excuse this, by saying that the affairs of the public engrossed his attention during the day, and that, being ambitious of knowledge, he passed the night in the conversation of philosophers. He affected singularity; and, in things indifferent, sought to act directly contrary to the taste and fashions of the age. Magnanimity and constancy are generally ascribed to him; and Seneca would fain make that haughtiness and contempt for others, which, in Cato, accompanied those virtues, a subject of praise. Cato, says Seneca, having received a blow in the face, neither took revenge nor was angry; he
did not even pardon the affront, but denied that he had received it. His virtue raised him so high that injury could not reach him. He served as a volunteer under Gallus in the war of Spartacus; and when military rewards were offered him by the commander, he refused them, because he thought he had no right to them. Some years afterwards he went a legionary tribune into Macedonia, under the prætor Rubrius; in which station he appeared, in dress, and during a march, more like a private soldier than an officer: but the dignity of his manners, the elevation of his sentiments, and the superiority of his views, set him far above those who bore the titles of generals and proconsuls.
Cato laboured to bring about a reconciliation between Cæsar and Pompey; but seeing it in vain, he took part with the latter. When Pompey was slain he fled to Utica, and being pursued by Cæsar, advised his friends to be gone, and throw themselves on Cæsar's clemency. His son, however, remained with him; and also Statilius, a young man, remarkable for his hatred of Cæsar. The evening before the execution of the purpose he had formed with regard to himself, after bathing, he supped with his friends and the magistrates of the city. They sat late at table, and the conversation was lively. The discourse falling upon this maxim of the Stoics, that the wise man alone is free, and that the vicious are slaves, Demetrius, who was a Peripatetic, undertook to confute it from the maxims of his school. Cato, in answer, treated the matter very amply, and with so much earnestness and vehemence of voice, that he betrayed himself, and confirmed the suspicion of his friends that he designed to kill himself. When he had done speaking, a melancholy silence ensued; and Cato perceiving it, turned the discourse to the present situation of affairs, expressing his concern for those who had been obliged to put to sea, as well as for those who had determined to make their escape by land, and had a dry and sandy desert to pass. After supper, the company being dismissed, he walked for some time with a few friends, and gave his orders to the officers of the guard; and going into his chamber, he embraced his son and his friends with more than usual tenderness, which further confirmed the suspicions of the resolution he had taken. He then laid himself down on his bed, and took up Plato's Dialogue on the Immortality of the Soul. Having read for some time, he looked up, and missing his sword, which his son had removed while he was at supper, he called a slave, and asked who had taken it away; and receiving no pertinent answer, he resumed his reading. Some time afterwards he asked again for his sword, and, without showing any impatience, ordered it to be brought to him; but having read out the book, and finding nobody had brought him his sword, he called for all his servants, fell into a rage, and struck one of them on the mouth with so much violence that he very much hurt his own hand, crying out in a passionate manner, "What! do my own son and family conspire to betray me, and deliver me up naked and unarmed to the enemy?" Immediately his son and friends rushed into the room, and began to lament, and to beseech him to change his resolution. Cato raising himself, and looking fiercely at them, "How long is it," said he, "since I have lost my senses, and my son is become my keeper? Brave and generous son, why do you not bind your father's hands, that when Cæsar comes he may find me unable to defend myself? Do you imagine that without a sword I cannot end my life? Cannot I destroy myself by holding my breath for some moments, or by striking my head against the wall?" His son answered with his tears, and retired. Apollonides and Demetrius remained with him; and to them he addressed himself in the following words: "Is it to watch over me that ye sit
silent here? Do you pretend to force a man of my years to live? or can you bring any reason to prove that it is not base and unworthy of Cato to beg his safety of an enemy? or why do you not persuade me to unlearn what I have been taught, that, rejecting all the opinions I have hitherto defended, I may now, by Cæsar's means, grow wiser, and be yet more obliged to him than for life alone? Not that I have determined any thing concerning myself; but I would have it in my power to perform what I shall think fit to resolve upon; and I shall not fail to ask your counsel when I have occasion to act up to the principles which your philosophy teaches. Go tell my son that he should not compel his father to what he cannot persuade him." They withdrew, and the sword was brought by a young slave. Cato drew it, and finding the point to be sharp, "Now," said he, "I am my own master;" and, laying it down, he took up his book again, which it is reported he read twice over. After this he slept so soundly that he was heard to snore by those who were near him. About midnight he called two of his freedmen, Cleanthes his physician, and Butas, whom he chiefly employed in the management of his affairs. The last he sent to the port to see whether all the Romans were gone; to the physician he gave his hand to be dressed, which was swelled by the blow he had given his slave. This being regarded as an intimation that he intended to live, gave great joy to his family. Butas soon returned, and brought word that they were all gone except Crassus, who had staid upon some business, but was just ready to depart. He added that the wind was high and the sea rough. These words drew a sigh from Cato. He sent Butas again to the port to know whether there might not be some one who, in the hurry of embarkation, had forgotten some necessary provisions, and had been obliged to put back to Utica. It was now break of day, and Cato slept yet a little more, till Butas returned to tell him that all was perfectly quiet. He then ordered him to shut the door, and flung himself upon his bed, as if he meant to finish his night's rest; but immediately he took his sword and stabbed himself a little below his chest; yet not being able to use his hand so well, by reason of the swelling, the blow did not kill him. It threw him into a convulsion, in which he fell from his bed, and overturned a table near it. The noise gave the alarm, and his son and the rest of the family entering the room, found him weltering in his blood, and his bowels half out of his body. The surgeon, upon examination, found that his bowels were not cut, and was preparing to replace them and bind up the wound, when Cato, recovering his senses, thrust the surgeon from him, and tearing out his bowels, immediately expired, in the forty-eighth year of his age. This was the insanity of political fanaticism.