To Adamantius (358/59)
I think I have received a letter from you, even though I did not receive one. For in dissolving your unjust anger against your son, and in praising those very things for which you had until now been rebuking him, you made it clear that, although you would most gladly have written, you did not have the courage to do so. But, my good man, both have the courage and write.
The blame for those disagreeable matters belongs to the men who sent you those fine letters; or rather, the fact that they themselves were deceived by others releases even them from blame. For we are not ignorant of the source of the trickery—a source it is better to pity than to hate.
But looking both to the nature of your boy and to his delight in toils, I sing the proverb that says:
"At once the plants are clear that are going to bear fruit."
And I would have gone on at greater length, had I not known that, as one who loves him, I would be his praiser—a situation in which even the most truthful statement draws disbelief upon itself.
**To Adamantius** (358/59)
I believe I have received a letter from you even without having received one. For in releasing your unjust anger toward your son and praising the very things you had previously censured, you made it clear that, though you would have been most glad to write to me, you did not have the confidence to do so. But, my good friend, summon your confidence and write.
As for those unpleasant matters, the blame lies with those who sent you that fine letter — or rather, even they are absolved of blame, since they were themselves deceived by others. For we are well aware of the true source of the deception, and it is better to pity than to hate.
When I look at your son's natural gifts and his delight in hard work, I find myself singing the proverb:
*Soon enough, the plants that will bear fruit make themselves known.*
I would have said more, but I know that when a lover speaks praise, even the truest words invite disbelief.
I think I have received a letter from you, even though I did not receive one. For in dissolving your unjust anger against your son, and in praising those very things for which you had until now been rebuking him, you made it clear that, although you would most gladly have written, you did not have the courage to do so. But, my good man, both have the courage and write.
The blame for those disagreeable matters belongs to the men who sent you those fine letters; or rather, the fact that they themselves were deceived by others releases even them from blame. For we are not ignorant of the source of the trickery—a source it is better to pity than to hate.
But looking both to the nature of your boy and to his delight in toils, I sing the proverb that says:
"At once the plants are clear that are going to bear fruit."
And I would have gone on at greater length, had I not known that, as one who loves him, I would be his praiser—a situation in which even the most truthful statement draws disbelief upon itself.
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.