Letter 375

LibaniusΚαλυκίῳ|libanius

To Calycius. (358 AD)

Those of us who did not share in the wedding feast deserved at least a letter about the marriage, telling us that all is well with you and that for now you are tending to your studies on your own, but will shortly resume them with us.

You seem, however, to have forgotten us, and I fear that along with us you have forgotten your studies too. But this is not right, my good young man of fine parentage. Consider: who is your father, and who is your father-in-law? The one is Hierocles, the other Acacius — both distinguished men.

What made them great? Bodily strength? Speed of foot? Heaps of money? No, by Zeus — but one noble thing, a share in which would have profited even Midas more than possessing all that gold he is said to have had. For it was their ability to speak that brought them to where they are.

How strange, then, if Cimon emulated his father's deeds in war, yet you should prove inferior to your father's power in the courts — priding yourself on being married to a rhetorician's daughter while throwing away what rhetoric you possess, when you could be gaining what you lack.

My advice is this: spend the summer refreshing what has slipped from your memory, and in winter compose speeches under my guidance. Your wife will surely be at your side encouraging you, joining her prayers to yours that you attain the beauty that comes from eloquence rather than the beauty of Nireus [the handsomest Greek at Troy].

And do not think it shameful to pursue learning after marriage. What is noble by nature never ceases to be noble, and there is greater praise in eagerly pursuing the hunt when the law has excused you from it. Through this you will delight your friends and frighten your enemies; you will have the power to help the one and crush the other.

Remember too that Socrates, wise as the god declared him to be, did not shrink from learning in old age, believing it is always the right time to learn. There is nothing wrong with burying yourself in books when your wife is present — indeed it is most pleasant, since she is the very person before whom you would wish to distinguish yourself, and it is a fine thing to do something admirable while she watches.

Moreover, if your father does not press you toward this because he does not believe you will rise to it, prove yourself better than his expectations. But if he does press you and you pay no attention, you will inevitably cause grief and suffer it yourself. That is to seek ease and find only misery.

So, dearest friend, consider what a celebration you will create for your parents, your in-laws, your excellent uncle, your good wife, and for me who have labored so much on your behalf. Fill yourself now with the old writings, and when the farmers have finished with the wine-presses, come here yourself, and good fortune attend you.

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