To Basilius. (361?)
How could I forget those days, those speeches, those bursts of applause? That brief time is engraved in my memory — worth many years and sweeter than any festival. But a man can be shaken from his purpose by many things, especially in a city this large, amid a great swell of trouble that may soon be breaking over us too.
You should rejoice when my letters reach you. But if one fails to arrive, suppose anything rather than that you no longer matter to me. And for the young men on whose behalf you came to see me — look to them not only from the point where you left off, but know that I count their progress as my own.
Write to me, and often. A letter is a small thing to send, but the friendship it keeps alive is not small.
How could I forget those days, those speeches, those bursts of applause? That brief time is engraved in my memory — worth many years and sweeter than any festival. But a man can be shaken from his purpose by many things, especially in a city this large, amid a great swell of trouble that may soon be breaking over us too.
You should rejoice when my letters reach you. But if one fails to arrive, suppose anything rather than that you no longer matter to me. And for the young men on whose behalf you came to see me — look to them not only from the point where you left off, but know that I count their progress as my own.
Write to me, and often. A letter is a small thing to send, but the friendship it keeps alive is not small.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.