Letter 2005: Avitus, bishop, to the deacon Helpidius.

Avitus of VienneElpidius|c. 495 AD|Avitus of Vienne
arianismbarbarian invasiondiplomatic
From: Avitus, bishop of Vienne
To: Helpidius, a deacon
Date: ~505 AD
Context: Avitus writes to his friend the deacon Helpidius, who serves at the Burgundian court, apologizing for a lost letter and expressing joy at the safe return of a family member — mentioning Prince Sigismund's diplomatic mission.

Avitus, bishop, to the deacon Helpidius.

I received the divine gift of news of your safety through certain clerics of the other confession [Arian clergy]. The character of the bearers does not diminish the grace of the sender, just as the food sent from heaven to our Elijah [1 Kings 17:6] was not cheapened by the rough beaks of the birds that carried it.

Yet the sweetness of your letter — for which I am quite hungry — was sprinkled with a bit of bitter roughness, because you deny that the letter I previously sent reached you. For through the steward of your household, who had found your master — my lord Sigismund [the Burgundian prince] — in the city of Vienne, sent by his father on a diplomatic mission, I was glad to receive your letters and in turn discharged the duties of my most lavish affection through the same messenger, cultivating with a devoted letter the attachment to you that I had conceived in my heart. Why it did not reach your hands, the steward I mentioned cannot be unaware.

I took this hard, and I was glad that it troubled you too — that in so perfect an opportunity the exchange of a single letter was lost to the desires of two people. But when both sides are secure in the purpose of the love they have established, we must sometimes forgive the accidents that steal our conversations rather than our wishes. What happens to our letters can damage our correspondence but not our love. For there can be no time of negligence — whether opportunities are denied or found — when my eagerness to keep up with your well-being grows cold among whatever other business I may have.

I consider what is most precious in the hearts of friends to be precisely what chance has no power over: what is neither scattered by the length of a journey nor cheated by the abuse of forgetfulness.

Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.

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