of the son was perhaps the noblest portion of his varied and variously honourable activity.  True to his maxim, that a ruddy-checked boy was worth more than a pale one, the old soldier in person initiated his son into all bodily exercises, and taught him to wrestle, to ride, to swim, to box, and to endure heat and cold.  But he felt very justly, that the time had gone by when it sufficed for a Roman to be a good farmer and soldier; and be felt also that it could not but have an injurious influence on the mind of his boy, if he should subsequently learn that the teacher, who had rebuked and punished him and had won his reverence, was a mere slave.  Therefore he in person taught the boy what a Roman was wont to learn, to read and write and know the law of the land; and even in his later years he worked his way so far into the general culture of the Hellenes, that he was able to deliver to his son in his native tongue whatever in that culture he deemed to be of use to a Roman.  All his writings were primarily intended for his son, and he wrote his historical work for that son’s use with large distinct letters in his own hand.  He lived in a homely and frugal style.  His strict parsimony tolerated no expenditure on luxuries.  He allowed no slave to cost him more than 1500 -denarii- (65 pounds) and no dress more than 100 -denarii- (4 pounds:  6 shillings); no carpet was to be seen in his house, and for a long time there was no whitewash on the walls of the rooms.  Ordinarily he partook of the same fare with his servants, and did not buffer his outlay in cash for the meal to exceed 30 -asses- (2 shillings); in time of war even wine was uniformly banished from his table, and he drank water or, according to circumstances, water mixed with vinegar.  On the other hand, he was no enemy to hospitality; he was fond of associating both with his club in town and with the neighbouring landlords in the country; he sat long at table, and, as his varied experience and his shrewd and ready wit made him a pleasant companion, he disdained neither the dice nor the wine-flask:  among other receipts in his book on husbandry he even gives a tried recipe for the case of a too hearty meal and too deep potations.  His life up to extreme old age was one of ceaseless activity.  Every moment was apportioned and occupied; and every evening he was in the habit of turning over in his mind what he had heard, said, or done during the day.  Thus he found time for his own affairs as well as for those of his friends and of the state, and time also for conversation and pleasure; everything was done quickly and without many words, and his genuine spirit of activity hated nothing so much as bustle or a great ado about trifles.  So lived the man who was regarded by his contemporaries and by posterity as the true model of a Roman burgess, and who appeared as it were the living embodiment of the—­certainly somewhat coarse-grained—­energy and probity of Rome in contrast with Greek indolence and Greek immorality; as a later Roman poet says: