Letter 9011: To the Lord Bishop Lupus [Lupus of Troyes].
Sidonius Apollinaris→Lupus, close friend|c. 467 AD|Sidonius Apollinaris
education booksfriendship
To the Lord Bishop Lupus [Lupus of Troyes].
Because of the book I sent — which you considered sent not to you but past you — I received a letter from you that was written not to me but against me. I reply to your reproaches on the strength of my case, not on the strength of matching your eloquence. Though who am I, and how small, to presume to plead innocence when you are the prosecutor? So I immediately beg forgiveness for this offense, however slight — confessing it was an error of diffidence, not of pride.
For though the rigor of your criticism in letters is as formidable as in morals, I confess that in the unsealing and reading of the book itself, the very affection you claim to feel was a greater burden to me than you admit. And this is not an unreasonable conjecture, since it is in human nature that friends are less forgiving of mistakes than strangers.
I had written a book — as you observed — packed and loaded with a jumble of subjects, occasions, and personalities. I would have been supremely impudent if everything in it had pleased me so well that I was confident nothing would displease you. And whatever the verdict might be, I saw that it would not be entirely honorable to withhold the volume from you — even if it did not seem to be offered to you — with the understanding that if I happened to please, I would not appear to have arrogantly passed you by, and if otherwise, to have impudently sought you out.
Another man in my position might have said: "I did not prefer anyone to you. I sent no special letter to anyone else. The person you think I favored received only a single standard letter and went away content. You, whom you claim was slighted, have been battered by three supremely wordy pages. Moreover — and you may not have noticed this — respect for your rank and merits was actually preserved by the fact that your name comes first in the book, just as you come first among bishops. His name barely sounds once, on his own page; yours appears frequently even on pages addressed to others."
But I pass over all such defenses and prefer to ask forgiveness rather than to argue my case. I also do not excuse the carelessness of the present letter — first because, even if I wished to, I can no longer write with much polish; second because, having finished my literary production, my mind, ready to rest at last, refuses to cultivate what it no longer cares to publish.
Yet though I yield to you completely in all other things — and rightly so, for what comparison is there? — you should know this: even if you shake the stars with your complaints and call on the ashes and shades of our ancestors to witness the injury done to your affection, I will not retreat from the contest — if the contest is who loves whom more. For in all things, but especially in love, defeat is the most shameful of all outcomes.
There — you have a letter nearly as talkative as you were demanding. Though all of mine, if any exist anywhere, are supremely wordy. For who would you not drive to the audacity of speaking? You draw out the talents of every writer — and I say nothing of myself — just as the rays of the sun draw hidden water through the porous earth from the bowels of the ground. Be mindful of us, my lord bishop.
EPISTULA XI
Sidonius domino papae Lupo salutem.
1. Propter libellum, quem non ad vos magis quam per vos missum putastis, epistulam vestram non ad me magis quam in me scriptam recepi. ad exprobrata respondeo pro aequitate causae, non pro aequalitate facundiae. quamquam quis nunc ego aut quantus qui agere praesumam vobis imputantibus innocentem? quocirca delicto huic, quantulumcumque est, inter principia confestim supplico ignosci, diffidentiae tantum, non et superbiae fassus errorem.
2. nam cum mihi rigor censurae tuae in litteris aeque ut <in> moribus sit ambifariam contremescendus, fateor tamen in voluminis ipsius operisque reseratu illam mihi fuisse plus oneri quam praetenditis caritatem. nec citra iustum ista conicio, quandoquidem mortalium mentibus vis haec naturalitus inest, ut, si quid perperam fiat, minus indulgeant plus amici.
3. scripseram librum, sicut pronuntiatis, plenum onustumque vario causarum temporum personarumque congestu: facturus rem videbar impudentissimam, si tantum mihi cuncta placuissent, ut nulla tibi displicitura confiderem; huc item, quisquis iudicii eventus foret, vidi partibus meis nequaquam pietatis ex solido constare rationem, si non saltim vobis esset anterius allatum volumen, etsi non videretur oblatum; sub hoc scilicet temperamento, ut, si forte placuissem, non vos arrogantia praeterisse, si secus, non vos improbitas expetisse iudicaretur.
4. nec sane multo labore me credidi deprecaturum vitatas causas erubescendi. pariter illud nosse vos noveram, quod auctores in operibus edendis pudor potius quam constantia decet quodque tetricis puncta censoribus tardius procacitas recitatoris quam trepidatio excudit. alioquin, si quis est ille qui cum fiduciae praerogativa thematis ante inauditi operam pervulgat, incipit expectationi publicae, quamvis solverit multa, plura redhibere. praeterea quidquid super huiusce rescripti tenore censueris, malui factum confiteri simpliciter quam trebaciter diffiteri.
5. dixisset alius: "neminem tibi praetuli, nullas ad ullum peculiares litteras dedi: quem praelatum suspicabare, unius epistulae forma contentus abscessit, atque ea quidem nihil super praesenti negotio deferente: tu, qui te quereris omissum, tribus loquacissimis paginis fatigatus potius in nausiam concitaris, dum frequenter insulsae lectionis verbis inanibus immoraris. adde, quia etiam in hoc, quod forsitan non notasti, reverentiae tuae meritorumque ratio servata est, quod sicut tu antistitum ceterorum cathedris, prior est tuus in libro titulus. illius nomen vix semel tantum et sibi adscripta pagina sonat; tuo praeter tibi deputatas frequenter illustrantur alienae.
6. illud his iunge, quod, si quid ibi vel causaliter placet, tu per consilium meum lectitas, ille quandoque per beneficium tuum, qui munusculi mei incassum pressus invidia necdum ad facultatem legendi, ut suspicor, venit, cum iamdiu ipse perveneris ad copiam transferendi. aio, tamquam non sit autholographas membranas arbitraturus, si tamen, quod ante percurras, vel exemplar acceperit; neque enim in his, quae tractaveris, ulla culpabitur aut distinctionum raritas aut frequentia barbarismorum. nempe ad extremum palam videtur etiam tibi transmissa proprietas, cui usus absque temporis fixi praescriptione transmissus est quique supradicto tamdiu potes uti libello, ut eum non amplius zothecula tua quam memoria concludat."
7. haec et his plura fors aliquis. ego vero cuncta praetereo et malo precari veniam quam reatum, si hoc esse creditur, deprecari. praesentum quoque neglegentiam litterarum nunc nec excuso, primum quod, etsi cupiam, parum cultius scribere queo, dein quod libellari opere confecto animus tandem feriaturus iam quae propalare dissimulat excolere detrectat.
8. at tamen, cum satis tibi et quidem merito (quidnam enim simile?) in omnibus cedam, quippe qui in alio genere virtutum iam per quinquennia decem non aequaevis sacerdotibus tantum verum et antiquis, quotiens collatus, antelatus quoque sis, noveris volo, quamvis astra questibus quatias atque maiorum cineres favillasque in testimonium laesae caritatis implores, pedem me conflictui tuo, si mutuo super amore certandum est, non retracturum, quia cum in ceteris rebus tum foedissimum perquam est in dilectione superari. quae velis nolis certa professio conviciis tuis illis cuncta sane blandimentorum mella vincentibus non praeter aequum reponderatur.
9. ecce habes litteras tam garrulas ferme quam requirebas; quamquam sunt omnes, si quae uspiam tamen sunt, loquacissimae. namque in audentiam sermocinandi quem non ipse compellas? qui omnium (de me enim taceo) litteratorum, licet oculi affectent, sic ingenia producis, ut solet aquam terrae visceribus absconditam per atomos bibulas radius extrahere solaris? cuius [lucis] aculeo non sola penetratur aut harena subtilis aut humus fossilis, sed si saxei montis oppressu fontium conditorum vena celetur, aperit arcanum liquentis elementi secretorum caelestium natura violentior. ita si quos, vir sacrosancte, studiosorum senseris aut quietos aut verecundos aut in obscuro iacentis famae recessu delitescentes, hos eloquii tui claritas artifice confabulatu, dum compellat, et publicat.
10. sed quorsum + quam moris est? redeamus ad causam, super cuius abundante blateratu, quia pareo, precor, ut errata confessum veniae clementis indultu placatus impertias, licet, quae laetitia tua sancta quaeque communio, copiosius hilarere, si meae culpae defensio potius tibi scripta feratur quam satisfactio. memor nostri esse dignare, domine papa.
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To the Lord Bishop Lupus [Lupus of Troyes].
Because of the book I sent — which you considered sent not to you but past you — I received a letter from you that was written not to me but against me. I reply to your reproaches on the strength of my case, not on the strength of matching your eloquence. Though who am I, and how small, to presume to plead innocence when you are the prosecutor? So I immediately beg forgiveness for this offense, however slight — confessing it was an error of diffidence, not of pride.
For though the rigor of your criticism in letters is as formidable as in morals, I confess that in the unsealing and reading of the book itself, the very affection you claim to feel was a greater burden to me than you admit. And this is not an unreasonable conjecture, since it is in human nature that friends are less forgiving of mistakes than strangers.
I had written a book — as you observed — packed and loaded with a jumble of subjects, occasions, and personalities. I would have been supremely impudent if everything in it had pleased me so well that I was confident nothing would displease you. And whatever the verdict might be, I saw that it would not be entirely honorable to withhold the volume from you — even if it did not seem to be offered to you — with the understanding that if I happened to please, I would not appear to have arrogantly passed you by, and if otherwise, to have impudently sought you out.
Another man in my position might have said: "I did not prefer anyone to you. I sent no special letter to anyone else. The person you think I favored received only a single standard letter and went away content. You, whom you claim was slighted, have been battered by three supremely wordy pages. Moreover — and you may not have noticed this — respect for your rank and merits was actually preserved by the fact that your name comes first in the book, just as you come first among bishops. His name barely sounds once, on his own page; yours appears frequently even on pages addressed to others."
But I pass over all such defenses and prefer to ask forgiveness rather than to argue my case. I also do not excuse the carelessness of the present letter — first because, even if I wished to, I can no longer write with much polish; second because, having finished my literary production, my mind, ready to rest at last, refuses to cultivate what it no longer cares to publish.
Yet though I yield to you completely in all other things — and rightly so, for what comparison is there? — you should know this: even if you shake the stars with your complaints and call on the ashes and shades of our ancestors to witness the injury done to your affection, I will not retreat from the contest — if the contest is who loves whom more. For in all things, but especially in love, defeat is the most shameful of all outcomes.
There — you have a letter nearly as talkative as you were demanding. Though all of mine, if any exist anywhere, are supremely wordy. For who would you not drive to the audacity of speaking? You draw out the talents of every writer — and I say nothing of myself — just as the rays of the sun draw hidden water through the porous earth from the bowels of the ground. Be mindful of us, my lord bishop.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.