From: Libanius, rhetorician in Antioch
To: Italicianus
Date: ~365 AD
Context: A graceful letter about the relationship between letter-writing and friendship -- silence doesn't mean indifference.
We're only human, and no better than our neighbors. So don't distort the truth with your flattering portraits of me, and when you praise, don't throw all proportion out the window. And don't assume you're unloved just because you don't get many letters from me. The reason is simply that I'm overwhelmed with business. A man can love someone perfectly well without writing to them -- after all, you yourself loved me during all that time you sent no letters, and even if you hadn't sent this one, you'd love me just the same.
True, you said fine things and made fine promises, but nothing ever came of them. Still, I don't take that as proof I'm unloved. I'd rather convince myself that you wanted to act but couldn't. Better to believe that, I think, than to go hunting for reasons to complain.
**To Italicianus** (365?)
We are but human, and no better than our neighbors. Do not, then, do violence to the truth with your portraits of me, and when you offer praise, do not neglect all measure. Nor should you suppose yourself unloved simply because you do not receive many letters from me. The cause of that is the press of my affairs — for a man may love even without writing, since you yourself, during all that time you sent no letters, still loved me, and had you not sent even this present one, you would have loved me all the same.
And yet, fine words you spoke and fine promises you made, but no deed followed upon them. Still, I do not take this as a sign that I am unloved. Rather, I persuade myself that you wished to act but were unable. For I think it better to believe this than to go looking for grounds for reproach at every turn.
Context:A graceful letter about the relationship between letter-writing and friendship -- silence doesn't mean indifference.
We're only human, and no better than our neighbors. So don't distort the truth with your flattering portraits of me, and when you praise, don't throw all proportion out the window. And don't assume you're unloved just because you don't get many letters from me. The reason is simply that I'm overwhelmed with business. A man can love someone perfectly well without writing to them -- after all, you yourself loved me during all that time you sent no letters, and even if you hadn't sent this one, you'd love me just the same.
True, you said fine things and made fine promises, but nothing ever came of them. Still, I don't take that as proof I'm unloved. I'd rather convince myself that you wanted to act but couldn't. Better to believe that, I think, than to go hunting for reasons to complain.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.