We are quite agreed, I think, that everything that is the object of our bodily senses is incapable of remaining a single moment in the same state, but is in motion and transition and possesses no actuality, that is, in plain language, has no real existence. In consequence, true, divine philosophy admonishes us to check and mitigate our affection for such things, as being very baneful and productive of detriment, so that even while in control of this mortal body, the soul may with intensity and fervour pursue those things that are ever the same and satisfy with no transient charm. Although this is true and although my mind envisages you in your simple and unalloyed character, as an individual who may be loved without disquietude, still I must confess that when you are absent in body and distant in space, I miss the pleasure of meeting and seeing you, and desire it, when it can be had, for the brethren. This fault, if I know you aright, you are glad to find in me, and, although you pray for every good thing for your dearest and closest