Letter 312: Even before your letter arrived, I knew both that you had fallen into terrible illness and that you had recovered...

To Acacius Presbyter. (357) Even before your letter arrived, I knew both that you had fallen into terrible illness and that you had recovered from it. A man came from your city -- not well known to me -- and said that you had been so gravely ill that you had even thought of writing your will. When I heard this, I was beside myself with grief. "But there was no need for the will," he added, "because the crisis has passed." At that, I came back to myself and began telling my friends what you had suffered and escaped, weaving together the alarming reports with the better news. When I then received your letter and could see clearly the nature of the illness in proper order -- for Hippocrates as well as Plato equipped you to describe it, since you are a student of both -- I grieved over your sufferings, and I was distressed for a city that nurtures so many quacks. I forgave you for the wine's holding sway while you were ill, for I myself am a slave to wine when sick. But when I heard about the torrents of sweat, I breathed again. I am grateful to Asclepius [god of healing] for stopping the illness, and to you for telling me about it. For it is a common festival of all the Greeks that the foremost of the Greeks is well. What you call me, you yourself actually are. When you spend time with my writings, you make me happy -- if indeed I am worth that much. And I will not say what most people say: that you love the father of the speeches but do not praise the offspring. You would never call a skilled friend a skilled orator if he were not actually skilled, nor would you consider a man a poor orator simply because he was not your friend. You strip everything down to the speeches themselves and insist on seeing them for what they are, not whose they are. So I already think highly of myself, trusting in your judgment that I am indeed someone worth something.

Ἀκακίῳ. (357) Καὶ πρὸ τῆς σῆς ἐπιστολῆς ἠπιστάμην οἱ κακῶν τε ἀφῖξο καὶ ὅτι τῶν κακῶν ἀπηλλάγης. ἀνὴρ γάρ τις ἐκεῖθεν ἥκων οὐ πάνυ μοι γνώριμος εἰπών σε νοσῆσαι σφόδρα καὶ μνησθῆναί γε διαθηκῶν, ὡς εἶδεν ἐμαυτοῦ με ἐκπεσόντα καὶ ἀπολωλότα, ἀλλ’ οὐκ ἐδέησε μέντοι τῶν διαθηκῶν, ἔγη, λέλυται γὰρ τὸ δεινόν. οὕτως αὖθις ἐν ἐμαυτῷ τε ἐγενόμην καὶ πρὸς τοὺς φίλους διηγούμην, ἃ παθὼν δια- φύγοις, συνάπτων τοῖς ταράττουσι τὰ βελτίω. λαβὼν δέ σου τὰ γράμματα καὶ τοῦ νοσήματος τὴν φύσιν ἀκριβῶς ἐν τῇ τάξει καθορῶν, παρεῖχε δέ σοι τοῦτο ποιεῖν μετὰ τοῦ Πλά- τωνος Ἱπποκράτης, σὺ γὰρ ἀμφοῖν μαθητής, συνήλγουν μὲν ἐπὶ τοῖς πόνοις, συνηχθόμην δὲ τῇ πόλει πολλοὺς τρεφούσῃ τοὺς Ἀκεσίας. συγγνώμην δὲ εἶχον, εἰ σοῦ κάμνοντος οἶνος ἐκράτει. καὶ γὰρ αὐτός εἰμι τῶν οἴνῳ δουλευόντων ἐν τῷ νοσεῖν. ὡς δ’ ἤκουσα κρουνοὺς ἱδρῶτος, ἀνέπνευσα. καὶ χάριν ἔχω τῷ μὲν Ἀσκληπιῷ τοῦ στῆσαι τὴν ἀσθένειαν, σοὶ δὲ τοῦ μηνῦσαι. κοινὴ γὰρ δὴ τῶν Ἑλλήνων ἑορτὴ τὸν τῶν Ελλήνων ἄκρον ἐρρῶσθαι. ὃ γὰρ ἐμὲ σὺ καλεῖς, αὐτὸς ὢν τυγχάνεις. λόγοις δὲ ἐμοῖς ὁμιλῶν εὐδαίμονά με ποιεῖς, εἰ δὴ τοσοῦτον ἐγώ. καὶ οὐκ ἐρῶ γε τὸ τῶν πολλῶν, ὅτι τὸν πατέρα τῶν λόγων φιλῶν, ἀλλ’ οὐ τοὺς ἐκγόνους ἐπαινῶν ὁμιλεῖς τοῖς λόγοις. σὺ γὰρ οὔτ’ ἂν φίλον μὲν δεξιόν, ῥήτορα δὲ μὴ δεξιὸν ῥήτορα προσείποις δεξιὸν οὔτ’ ἇι μὴ φίλον μέν, ῥήτορα δὲ ἀγαθὸν φαῦλον ἡγήσαιο ῥήτορα. πάντα γὰρ δὴ περικόπτων αὐτῶν γίγνῃ τῶν λόγων καἰ οὐχ ὧν εἰσιν, ἀλλ’ οἷοί τινές εἰσιν ἀξιοῖς ὁρᾶν, ὥστ’ ἤδη μεγάλα φρονῶ τῇ σῇ ψήφῳ πειθόμενος, ὡς ἄρα τις εἴην καὶ αὐτός. Τιτια- νὸς δὲ τῷ θέρει μέν, ὅσα εἰκὸς τῷ θέρει, χρήσθω, τοῦ χει- μῶνος δὲ παρ’ ἡμῖν ἴστω. καὶ προσαπτέσθω μὲν τῶν ἐμῶν, ἐπειδὴ τῷ πατρὶ δοκεῖ, τῶν δὲ τοῦ πατρὸς ἰχνῶν ἐχέσθω πλέον καὶ πρὸ τοῦ Νέστορος Πεισίστρατος θαυμαζέτω μηδένα.