To Anatolius. (359)
The habit of disparaging the sophists is an old one with you, but the Pythia too had to suffer the same treatment, so that everything might be done by you in a manner befitting your youthful style. And so both the sophists and the Pythia say to you: may you never cease disparaging what is worthy of honor.
For my part, trusting that I was loved by you, I both wrote to you and gave you notice that I had been well treated, asking for nothing that exceeded your power, but only such things as you scatter abroad in plenty every day upon the worthy and the unworthy alike. But when, instead of lending your aid, you sent us a letter full of jest, I judged that the time had come to write neither for the sake of a favor nor on any other account.
And when he escaped the illness, I rejoiced no less than the man who had himself escaped; yet it was possible, I suppose, to rejoice even without writing, and it was not the case that whoever did not write therefore also did not rejoice; but just as among those who wrote that they were glad one might perhaps find the man who was not glad, so it was possible to rejoice even in silence.
But you were in want of a flatterer, not of one who rejoiced out of friendship. And when you say that you do not know why I ceased to write, you pass over the former insult with a second one, having then judged me unworthy of your concern, and now not even knowing that you had neglected me.
And you have undergone an experience not foreign to power; for you who are set in brilliant fortune do not even think that you are wronging those whom you wrong, supposing that it befits you to commit outrage, while those others must everywhere bow down in worship.
Do you see that it would have been better for you not to stir up the bean-plant [i.e., not to provoke trouble]? But as it is, having desired to break my silence, you broke it against yourself, and you came to know the deed that was done, and that too though you are no infant, nor falling short of Odysseus in wiles.
As for your having sent gold to Optatus, you are praised by us; but in that, hoping by the gold to make him a rhetorician, you sent a hundred staters when you might have sent a thousand, you are not praised; for if those you sent can accomplish no small thing, you would have benefited him more by sending more. Yet even this small sum is reckoned great with us, and the expenditure proceeds in proportion.
**To Anatolius** (359 AD)
Mocking sophists has long been your habit, and now the Pythia too must suffer the same treatment — all so that you may act in a manner befitting your new rank. Well then, both the sophists and the Pythia say to you: may you never cease mocking what deserves to be honored.
For my part, believing that you held me in affection, I used to write to you and promised myself some kindness in return, asking nothing beyond your power — only the sort of favors you scattered daily upon the worthy and unworthy alike. But when, instead of acting on my behalf, you sent me a letter full of jesting, I judged the time had come to write no more, whether for a favor or for any other reason.
When you escaped your illness, I rejoiced no less than you who escaped it. But surely one could rejoice without writing, and it does not follow that whoever did not write did not rejoice. Just as among those who did write that they were glad, one might perhaps find someone who was not truly glad, so too it was possible to rejoice in silence.
What you wanted was a flatterer, not someone who rejoiced out of genuine friendship. And when you claim not to know why I stopped writing, you surpass the first insult with a second — for at the time you did not think me worthy of your attention, and now you do not even realize that you neglected me.
You have suffered from something not uncommon among those in power. For you men of brilliant fortune do not even consider yourselves to be wronging those you wrong, believing it your right to treat others with contempt while they must everywhere grovel before you.
You see, it would have been better for you not to stir the anagyrus bush? But now, having wished to break my silence, you have broken it upon your own head, and you have learned a thing done — and this though you are no child, but a man who yields not even to Odysseus in cunning.
As for Optatus: for sending him gold you earn our praise. But that you sent a hundred staters, hoping to make him a rhetorician with gold, when you could have sent a thousand — for that you earn no praise. For if the amount you sent can do no small good, you would have helped him still more with a larger sum. Still, even this small gift is greatly valued by us, and the expenditure is being put to proper use.
The habit of disparaging the sophists is an old one with you, but the Pythia too had to suffer the same treatment, so that everything might be done by you in a manner befitting your youthful style. And so both the sophists and the Pythia say to you: may you never cease disparaging what is worthy of honor.
For my part, trusting that I was loved by you, I both wrote to you and gave you notice that I had been well treated, asking for nothing that exceeded your power, but only such things as you scatter abroad in plenty every day upon the worthy and the unworthy alike. But when, instead of lending your aid, you sent us a letter full of jest, I judged that the time had come to write neither for the sake of a favor nor on any other account.
And when he escaped the illness, I rejoiced no less than the man who had himself escaped; yet it was possible, I suppose, to rejoice even without writing, and it was not the case that whoever did not write therefore also did not rejoice; but just as among those who wrote that they were glad one might perhaps find the man who was not glad, so it was possible to rejoice even in silence.
But you were in want of a flatterer, not of one who rejoiced out of friendship. And when you say that you do not know why I ceased to write, you pass over the former insult with a second one, having then judged me unworthy of your concern, and now not even knowing that you had neglected me.
And you have undergone an experience not foreign to power; for you who are set in brilliant fortune do not even think that you are wronging those whom you wrong, supposing that it befits you to commit outrage, while those others must everywhere bow down in worship.
Do you see that it would have been better for you not to stir up the bean-plant [i.e., not to provoke trouble]? But as it is, having desired to break my silence, you broke it against yourself, and you came to know the deed that was done, and that too though you are no infant, nor falling short of Odysseus in wiles.
As for your having sent gold to Optatus, you are praised by us; but in that, hoping by the gold to make him a rhetorician, you sent a hundred staters when you might have sent a thousand, you are not praised; for if those you sent can accomplish no small thing, you would have benefited him more by sending more. Yet even this small sum is reckoned great with us, and the expenditure proceeds in proportion.
AI-assisted translation - This translation was produced with AI assistance and has not been peer-reviewed. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek below for scholarly use.