Although we know of a good many happy wedded lives in that age,(1078) there is no picture so full of pure devotion and tenderness as that which we have in Pliny’s letters to Calpurnia. They are love-letters in the best sense and the most perfect style.(1079) Pliny’s youth was long past when he won the hand of Calpurnia, yet their love for one another is that of boy and girl. When she has to go into Campania for her health, he is racked with all sorts of anxiety about her, and entreats her to write once, or even twice, a day. Pliny reads her letters over and over again, as if they had just come. He has her image before him by night, and at the wonted hour by day his feet carry him to her vacant room. His only respite from these pains of a lover is while he is engaged in court. Pliny had frequent care about Calpurnia’s health. They did not belong to the hideous class who preferred “the rewards of childlessness,” but their hopes of offspring were dashed again and again. These griefs were imparted to Calpurnia’s aunt, and to her grandfather, Calpurnius Fabatus, a generous old squire of Como, who was as anxious as Pliny to have descendants of his race. At the time of the old man’s death, Calpurnia was with her husband in Bithynia, and she wished to hasten home at once to console her aunt. Pliny, not having time to secure the emperor’s sanction, gave her the official order for the use of the public post on her journey back to Italy. In answer to his letter of explanation and excuse, Trajan sent his approval in his usual kind and courteous style. This is the last glimpse we have of Pliny and Calpurnia.(1080)