To Aristaenetus.
Is this too a law for those who hold office, not to write to their friends, since they are magistrates? If indeed it is established and set down in writing, then make use of the law and keep silent; but if no law forbids it, where does the silence come from? Tell me. For I think I have found the reason: the multitude of your affairs has grown too great for you, and your concern for public matters does not allow you to attend to your own.
It is more pleasant for me to persuade myself of this than that you, on account of your office, have forgotten your friends -- you who, I hear, are more moderate under the exercise of power, and differ from your former self in this, that you accomplish more; for your character is the same, and there are some who say it is even better.
Januarius, then, will report to you about us, that we are unwell, unless he should wish to deceive you so as not to grieve you; for we are always struggling against some wave or other. And we pay this penalty to the God of Friendship [Zeus Philios], because something appeared to us more honored than our friends.
But I am able to tell you about him, how he proved himself good in a difficult administration. And this man alone both those who obtained what they needed quickly and those who obtained it slowly praised; so much enchantment did he mingle with his delays, so that, going away, he grieves the better sort, because while present he caused no pain.
And toward me, when I made a request, he was so far from disobeying that, if I left off doing this, he called the matter an insult and reproached me. And reckoning your good fortune to be both his own and mine, whatever he learned he came running to us to announce, proclaiming his pleasure with his face. I would have said more to one who did not know him, but as it is, you know the man.
**To Aristainetus** (357 or 358)
Is this too, then, a law for governors — that they must not write to their friends, since they are governing? If such a law has indeed been laid down and written, then abide by it and keep your silence. But if no law forbids it, where does the silence come from? Tell me. For I think I have found the answer: the sheer volume of business has overwhelmed you, and the care of public affairs leaves no room for attending to private ones.
I would rather persuade myself of this than believe that you have forgotten your friends on account of your office — you, whom I hear have been made more moderate by power and differ from your former self only in accomplishing more, since your character is the same, though there are those who say it is even better.
Januarius, then, will report to you about me — that I am unwell, unless he chooses to deceive you so as not to cause you grief. For I am always wrestling with one wave or another. This is the penalty I pay to the god of friendship: that something has come to seem more precious to me than my friends.
But what I can tell you about Januarius himself is this: in a difficult administration he proved himself an honest man. He alone won praise from those who obtained what they needed quickly and from those who obtained it slowly alike — so much charm did he blend into his delays. And so, in departing, he grieves the better sort of people, because while he was present he gave no one cause for grief.
When I made requests of him, he was so far from refusing that if ever I paused in asking, he called the omission an insult and reproached me for it. Regarding your successes as his own and mine alike, whatever good news he learned he would come running to me and announce it, his face proclaiming his delight. I would say more if I were writing to someone who did not know the man, but as it is, you know him well.
Is this too a law for those who hold office, not to write to their friends, since they are magistrates? If indeed it is established and set down in writing, then make use of the law and keep silent; but if no law forbids it, where does the silence come from? Tell me. For I think I have found the reason: the multitude of your affairs has grown too great for you, and your concern for public matters does not allow you to attend to your own.
It is more pleasant for me to persuade myself of this than that you, on account of your office, have forgotten your friends -- you who, I hear, are more moderate under the exercise of power, and differ from your former self in this, that you accomplish more; for your character is the same, and there are some who say it is even better.
Januarius, then, will report to you about us, that we are unwell, unless he should wish to deceive you so as not to grieve you; for we are always struggling against some wave or other. And we pay this penalty to the God of Friendship [Zeus Philios], because something appeared to us more honored than our friends.
But I am able to tell you about him, how he proved himself good in a difficult administration. And this man alone both those who obtained what they needed quickly and those who obtained it slowly praised; so much enchantment did he mingle with his delays, so that, going away, he grieves the better sort, because while present he caused no pain.
And toward me, when I made a request, he was so far from disobeying that, if I left off doing this, he called the matter an insult and reproached me. And reckoning your good fortune to be both his own and mine, whatever he learned he came running to us to announce, proclaiming his pleasure with his face. I would have said more to one who did not know him, but as it is, you know the man.
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.