Letters of Julian/Letter 29

29. To his Uncle Julian
[362, April, Constantinople] If I set small store by your letters, "Then the gods themselves have destroyed my wits." For all the virtues are displayed in them: goodwill, loyalty, truth, and what is more than all these, since without it the rest are nought, wisdom, displayed by you in all her several kinds, shrewdness, intelligence and good judgement. You reproached me for not answering them, but I have no time, heaven knows, and pray do not suppose that this is affectation or a jest. The gods of eloquence bear me witness that, except for Homer and Plato, I have with me not so much as a pamphlet on philosophy, rhetoric, or grammar, or any historical work of the sort that is in general use. And even these that I have are like personal ornaments or amulets, for they are always tied fast to me. For the rest I do not even offer up many prayers, though naturally I need now more than ever to pray very often and very long. But I am hemmed in and choked by public business, as you will perhaps see for yourself when I arrive in Syria.

As for the business mentioned in your letter, I approve of everything and admire everything you propose, nothing of that must be rejected. Be assured, then, that with the aid of the gods I shall leave nothing undone.

First of all set up the pillars of the temple of Daphne; take those that are in any palace anywhere, and convey them thence; then set up in their places others taken from the recently occupied houses. And if there are not enough even from that source, let us use cheaper ones meanwhile, of baked brick and plaster, casing them with marble, for you are well aware that piety is to be preferred to splendour, and, when put in practice, secures much pleasure for the righteous in this life. Concerning the affair of Lauricius, I do not think I need write you any instructions; but I give you just this word of advice: renounce all feeling of anger, trust all to justice, submitting your ears to his words with complete confidence in the right. Yet I do not deny that what he wrote to you was annoying and full of every kind of insolence and arrogance; but you must put up with it. For it becomes a good and great-souled man to make no counter charge when he is maligned. For, just as missiles that are hurled against hard, well-built walls, do not settle on them, or penetrate them, or stay where they strike, but rebound with increased force against the hand that throws them, just so every aspersion directed against an upright man, slander, calumny, or unmerited insolence, touches him not at all, but recoils on the head of him who made the aspersion. This is my advice to you, but the sequel will be for the law to decide, With regard, however, to the letters which he asserts you made public after receiving them from me, it seems to me ridiculous to bring them into court. For I call the gods to witness, I have never written to you or any other man a word that I am not willing to publish for all to see. Have I ever in my letters employed brutality or insolence, or abuse or slander, or said anything for which I need to blush? On the contrary, even when I have felt resentment against someone and my subject gave me a chance to use ribald language like a woman from a cart, the sort of libels that Archilochus launched against Lycambes, I have always expressed myself with more dignity and reserve than one observes even on a sacred subject. And if my letters did give emphatic proof of the kindly feeling that you and I have towards one another, did I wish this to be unknown or concealed? For what purpose? I call all the gods and goddesses to witness that I should not have resented it, even if someone had published abroad all that I ever wrote to my wife, so temperate was it in every respect. And if this or that person has read what I wrote to my own uncle, it would be fairer to blame the man who ferreted it out with such malevolence, rather than me, the writer, or you, or any other who read it. Nevertheless, concede this to me, do not let it disturb your peace of mind, only look at the matter thus — if Lauricius is really dishonest get rid of him in a dignified way. But if he is a well-meaning person of average honesty, and has treated you badly, forgive him. For when men are honest in public life we must be on good terms with them, even though they do not behave properly to us in their private capacity. On the other hand, when men are dishonest in public affairs, even though they have won our favour, we must keep them under control; I do not mean that we must hate or avoid them, but keep careful watch on them, so that we may not fail to detect them when they misbehave, though if they are too hard to control in this way, we must not employ them at all. As for what you, as well as others, have written, that though notorious for bad conduct he masquerades as a physician, I did send for him, thinking that he was trustworthy, but before he had an interview with me his true character was detected, or rather he was denounced to me — when I meet you I will tell you by whom — and he was treated with contempt. For this too I have to thank you.

Instead of the estates that you asked for, since I have already given those away — I call to witness the gods of our family and of friendship — I will give you some that pay far better, as you shall yourself discover.