Letter 746
To Acacius. (362)
Those many splendid speeches you delivered — first in Phoenicia, then here, and now in fair Palestine (and how could it not be fair, since it is in love with the beauty that resides in you?) — those noble offspring have been matched in the reputation they bring you by the ones Eutropius has produced.
For these too are yours through the one who sowed them, so that his kinship seems revealed no less by the style of his speeches than by his physical appearance — speeches in which he displays vigor with speed, that hallmark of your school.
Being so fine an orator, he is equally good-natured: perceiving that you wished him to honor me in every way he honors you, he treats me as though he were my own nephew and pupil.
Accordingly, I have enrolled the man among my oldest intimates — and ahead of many long-standing ones at that, for he surpassed many in affection. Hence even the small things of mine — and I consider everything of mine small, for why should a man be ignorant of himself, especially when a wise man cries out that one must know oneself? — even the smallest of these he cherished, and there is nothing I said that he did not hear, nor anything he heard without praise.
Now then, this fine and noble man who wishes to be just has in one matter wronged me. Consider the charge: "Eutropius has wronged me regarding the speech. Acacius — doing well — wrote it, and — doing well — sent it, having given it to the emperor before giving it to me."
He will blame the old man, of course — he tried such clever excuses on me too. But do not believe him. I certainly did not. However formidable he may be, you and I got here first. And surely he knows what Homer grants to elders.
So let him say nothing in his defense but prove it by his actions, and let him imitate Achilles — since he has the power, as Achilles did, to heal the wound he inflicted.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.