Letter 354: Now I recognise men's description of me! Basil has praised me, and I am hailed victor over all! Now that I have received your vote, I am entitled to walk with the proud gait of a man who haughtily looks down on all the world.
Your praise has done it — now I truly believe what people say about me! With Basil's vote in my favor, I can walk around like I own the place.
I hear you've written a speech against drunkenness. I'd very much like to read it — not to try to be clever in response, but because once I've seen how you handle the subject, it will show me how to say what I mean.
Human translation — New Advent (NPNF / ANF series)
Latin / Greek Original
[Πρός: Λιβάνιος Βασιλείῳ]
Νῦν ἔγνων εἶναι ὃ λέγομαι· Βασιλείου γάρ με ἐπαινέσαντος, κατὰ πάντων ἔχω τὰ νικητήρια. καὶ τὴν ψῆφον δεξαμένῳ τὴν σὴν ἔπεστί μοι βαδίζειν μετὰ σοβαροῦ τοῦ βαδίσματος, οἷά τις ἀλαζὼν τοὺς πάντας περιφρονῶν. ἐπεὶ οὖν καὶ σοὶ κατὰ μέθης λόγος πεπόνηται, βουλόμεθα τούτῳ περιτυχεῖν. ἀλλὰ κομψὸν μέν τι λέγειν οὐκ ἐθέλω. ὁ δὲ λόγος ὀφθεὶς διδάξει με τὴν τοῦ λέγειν τέχνην.
Related Letters
(In answer to Ep. XIV., of Basil, about 361.) You may mock and pull to pieces my affairs, whether in jest or in earnest. This is a matter of no consequence; only laugh, and take your fill of culture, and enjoy my friendship.
You yourself will judge whether I have added anything in the way of learning to the young men whom you have sent. I hope that this addition, however little it be, will get the credit of being great, for the sake of your friendship towards me. But inasmuch as you give less praise to learning than to temperance and to a refusal to abandon our soul...
Behold! I have sent you my speech, all streaming with sweat as I am! How should I be otherwise, when sending my speech to one who by his skill in oratory is able to show that the wisdom of Plato and the ability of Demosthenes were belauded in vain?
(Perhaps about a.d. 357 or 358; in answer to a letter which is not now extant.) I have failed, I confess, to keep my promise. I had engaged even at Athens, at the time of our friendship and intimate connection there (for I can find no better word for it), to join you in a life of philosophy.
You have not yet ceased to be offended with me, and so I tremble as I write. If you have cared, why, my dear sir, do you not write? If you are still offended, a thing alien from any reasonable soul and from your own, why, while you are preaching to others, that they must not keep their anger till sundown, have you kept yours during many suns?