From these men, animated by selfishness, by jealousy, by greed for gain, by sentimentalism, or by hypocritical patriotism, Matius stands aloof, and stands perhaps alone.  For him the death of Caesar means the loss of a friend, of a man in whom he believed.  He can find no common point of sympathy either with those who rejoice in the death of the tyrant, as Cicero does, for he had not thought Caesar a tyrant, nor with those who use the name of Caesar to conjure with.  We have said that he accepted no political office.  He did accept an office, that of procurator, or superintendent, of the public games which Caesar had vowed on the field of Pharsalus, but which death had stepped in to prevent him from giving, and it was in the pious fulfilment of this duty which he took upon himself that he brought upon his head the anger of the “auctores libertatis,” as he ironically calls them.  He had grieved, too, at the death of Caesar, although “a man ought to rate the fatherland above a friend,” as the liberators said.  Matius took little heed of this talk.  He had known of it from the outset, but it had not troubled him.  Yet when it came to his ears that his friend Cicero, to whom he had been attached from boyhood, to whom he had proved his fidelity at critical moments, was among his accusers, he could not but complain bitterly of the injustice.  Through a common friend, Trebatius, whose acquaintance he had made in Gaul, he expresses to Cicero the sorrow which he feels at his unkindness.  What Cicero has to say in explanation of his position and in defence of himself, we can do no better than to give in his own words: 

   “Cicero to Matins, greeting:[145]

“I am not yet quite clear in my own mind whether our friend Trebatius, who is as loyal as he is devoted to both of us, has brought me more sorrow or pleasure:  for I reached my Tusculan villa in the evening, and the next day, early in the morning, he came to see me, though he had not yet recovered his strength.  When I reproved him for giving too little heed to his health, he said that nothing was nearer his heart than seeing me.  ‘There’s nothing new,’ say I?  He told me of your grievance against me, yet before I make any reply in regard to it, let me state a few facts.

“As far back as I can recall the past I have no friend of longer standing than you are; but long duration is a thing characteristic of many friendships, while love is not.  I loved you on the day I met you, and I believed myself loved by you.  Your subsequent departure, and that too for a long time, my electoral canvass, and our different modes of life did not allow our inclination toward one another to be strengthened by intimacy; still I saw your feeling toward me many years before the Civil War, while Caesar was in Gaul; for the result which you thought would be of great advantage to me and not of disadvantage to Caesar himself you accomplished:  I mean in bringing him to love me,