From: Ruricius, aristocrat (later bishop of Limoges)
To: Hesperius, his son-in-law
Date: ~482 AD
Context: A playful, rhetorically dazzling reply to Hesperius's letter, in which Ruricius insists that his son-in-law's praise of his writing is absurdly misplaced — like a farmer making barren soil look productive through sheer skill.
Ruricius to his most devoted son and always magnificent Hesperius.
I received the letter from my kindred spirit, sprinkled with as much grace as eloquence, as much love as charm, as much wit as sweetness — a letter in which nothing was lacking in either delight or substance. Though it excels in every art of expression and reasoning, it seems to depart from itself in one respect only: its judgment. For while my little page was suited not for praise but — through its inept rusticity — for censure, you rush to attribute greater merit than it deserves. In following either the course of rhetoric or the impulse of affection, you have strayed from the standard of fair judgment.
I believe your accomplished self descended to this not from any fault of ignorance but by deliberate design, and for a threefold reason: to display on thin material the sharpness of your intellect, the fluency of your speech, and the abundance of your language. Just as on barren and idle soil the skill of the farmer shows itself more clearly — when he either tames the rebellion of stubborn clods with repeated strikes of the plow, or enriches soil too dry with a scattering of manure, so that the industry of the farmer produces the abundance of fruit that the nature of the soil denies — so too you have enriched the poverty of my letter with the richness of your eloquence.
The result is that if you suppress my letter, it can be praiseworthy when you are the one speaking; but if you produce it, it will cause embarrassment — to me for the false praise, and to you for the error of judgment. And so, since you chose to make my ignorance a product of your own modesty, take care that your recommendation does not endanger your reputation when I fail to live up to it. So if you trust my advice at all, if you consult both our interests, hide this volume — unworthy of memory, most worthy of oblivion — if you wish both to preserve for me the reputation of an orator (at your discretion) and for yourself the character of a sound judge.
IIII. DEUINCTISSIMO FILIO SEMPERQVE MAGNIFICO HESPERIO RURICIUS.
Recepi apices unianimitatis tuae tam gratia quam eloquentia,
tam amore pariter quam lepore, tam sale quam melle respersas,
in quibus nec dulcedini deesset aliquid nec sapori. qui cum
omni dictionis et rationis arte praemineant, solo tamen a se
1 incomcior S 2 gaudium excidisse uidetur, uoluptatem suppkri iubet
Kr . 7 ani v, una S 8 nobilium et (pro te) v 9 latentis v,
lantia S (e man. alt.), laticis Mommsemu eligi 8 scires Kr . lllpunitterent
IIInobilitatem S (littercu a et n supra rcu. exarauit mari. alt.) indicem
Mommsenus, iudicem S 12 nisi S (alterum i add . man. sec.)
a •
sollertiae lu||tur S (a et e supra rcu. exarauit man. alt.) 15 IIĮuiwn S1
17 nobilo S 19 nequid S clariscere S 21 praesusisse S inlicitae S
eligisse S 24 deuictissimo S magnifio S 27 inquilius S dulcidini S
uidentur discrepare iudicio. dum enim paginulae meae non
laudi aptae, sed uituperationi ineptia rusticitatis aptatae maiora
meritis tribuere festinas et sequeris uel declamationis cursum
uel diligentis affectum, a norma recti iudicii declinasti.
ad quam rem ego perfectionem (tuam) non ignorantiae uitio,
sed spontaneo arbitror descendisse consilio triplici ex causa,
ut in tenui materia et acumen ingenii et oris facundiam et
affluentiam sermonis ostenderes. sicuti in ieiuno atque otioso
caespite magis strenuitas cultoris apparet, cum aut rebellionem
glaebarum tenacium repetita saepius inpressione uomeris domat
aut ariditatem nimiam stercoris aspersione fecundat, ut fructuum
copiam, quam soli natura negat, industria producat, ita et tu
egestatem epistulae meae eloquentiae tuae ubertate ditasti, ut
possit esse, si eam subpresseris, te loquente laudabilis, si uero
protuleris, incutiat et mihi de falsa laude et tibi de iudicii
errore uerecundiam. et idcirco, quia inperitiam meam tui pudoris
opus esse uoluisti, caue, ne praeconio tuo nobis non
respondentibus tua periclitetur electio. itaque si quid mihi
credis, si quid utrique consulis, indignum memoria, obliuione
dignissimum uolumen absconde, si uis et me ad arbitrium
tuum oratoris famam et te probati iudicis obtinere personam.
◆
From:Ruricius, aristocrat (later bishop of Limoges)
To:Hesperius, his son-in-law
Date:~482 AD
Context:A playful, rhetorically dazzling reply to Hesperius's letter, in which Ruricius insists that his son-in-law's praise of his writing is absurdly misplaced — like a farmer making barren soil look productive through sheer skill.
Ruricius to his most devoted son and always magnificent Hesperius.
I received the letter from my kindred spirit, sprinkled with as much grace as eloquence, as much love as charm, as much wit as sweetness — a letter in which nothing was lacking in either delight or substance. Though it excels in every art of expression and reasoning, it seems to depart from itself in one respect only: its judgment. For while my little page was suited not for praise but — through its inept rusticity — for censure, you rush to attribute greater merit than it deserves. In following either the course of rhetoric or the impulse of affection, you have strayed from the standard of fair judgment.
I believe your accomplished self descended to this not from any fault of ignorance but by deliberate design, and for a threefold reason: to display on thin material the sharpness of your intellect, the fluency of your speech, and the abundance of your language. Just as on barren and idle soil the skill of the farmer shows itself more clearly — when he either tames the rebellion of stubborn clods with repeated strikes of the plow, or enriches soil too dry with a scattering of manure, so that the industry of the farmer produces the abundance of fruit that the nature of the soil denies — so too you have enriched the poverty of my letter with the richness of your eloquence.
The result is that if you suppress my letter, it can be praiseworthy when you are the one speaking; but if you produce it, it will cause embarrassment — to me for the false praise, and to you for the error of judgment. And so, since you chose to make my ignorance a product of your own modesty, take care that your recommendation does not endanger your reputation when I fail to live up to it. So if you trust my advice at all, if you consult both our interests, hide this volume — unworthy of memory, most worthy of oblivion — if you wish both to preserve for me the reputation of an orator (at your discretion) and for yourself the character of a sound judge.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.