'All men have known you as Praefect of the Praetorian throne, a dignity which all other public employments wait upon like lacqueys. For from this high office, ways and means for the army are demanded; from this, without any regard for the difficulty of the times, the food of the people is required; on this, a weight of judicial responsibility is thrown, which would be by itself a heavy burden. Now the law, which has thrown this immense load on the Praefect's office, has, on the other hand, honoured him by putting almost all things under his control. In truth, what interval of leisure could you snatch from your public labours, when into your single breast flowed every claim which could be made on behalf of the common good of all?
The Quaestorship.
'We must add, moreover, that when you were on frequent occasions charged with the office of the Quaestorship, the leisure which you might have enjoyed was taken from you by your own constant thoughtfulness for the public good; and when you were thus bearing the weight of an honour which was not the highest, your Sovereigns used to lay upon you those duties, properly belonging to other offices, which their own holders were unable to discharge[196]. All these duties you discharged with absolute freedom from corruption, following your father's example in receiving, from those who hoped for your favour, nothing but the obligation to serve them, and bestowing on petitioners all that they had a right to ask for without traffic or reward.
Intimacy with Theodoric.
'Moreover, men know that the conversations which you were honoured by holding with the King occupied a large portion of your days, greatly to the public welfare[197], so that men of leisure have no right to expect that their requirements shall be met by you, whose day was thus occupied with continuous toil[198]. But in truth this will redound yet more to your glory, if amid so many and such severe labours you succeed in writing that which is worthy to be read. Besides, your work can without wounding their self-love instruct unlettered persons who are not prepared by any consciousness of eloquence for the service of the Republic[199]; and the experience which you have gained by being tossed to and fro on the waves of stormy altercation, they in their more tranquil lot may more fortunately make their own. Again (and here we make an appeal which your loyalty cannot resist), if you allow posterity to be ignorant of the numerous benefits conferred by your King, it is in vain that with benevolent eagerness he so often granted your requests. Do not, we pray, draw back once more into silence and obscurity those who, while you were sounding their eulogies, seemed worthy to receive illustrious dignities. For you then professed to describe them with true praises, and to paint their characters with the colours of history[200]. Now if you leave it to posterity to write the panegyric on these men, you take away as it were from those who die an honourable death the funeral oration to which, by the customs of our ancestors, they are entitled. Besides, in these letters you correct immorality with a ruler's authority; you break the insolence of the transgressor; you restore to the laws their reverence. Do you still hesitate about publishing that which, as you know, satisfies so many needs? Will you conceal, if we may say so, the mirror of your own mind, in which all ages to come may behold your likeness? Often does it happen that a man begets a son unlike himself, but his writings are hardly ever found unequal to his character[201]. The progeny of his own will is his truest child; what is born in the secret recesses of his own heart is that by which posterity will know him best.
Gothic History.
'You have often, amid universal acclamation, pronounced the praises of kings and queens. In twelve books you have compiled the History of the Goths, culling the story of their triumphs[202]. Since these works have had such favourable fortunes, and since you have thus served your first campaign in literature, why hesitate to give these productions of yours also to the public?'
Cassiodorus consents to publish.
So pleaded my friends, and to my shame I must own that I was conquered, and could no longer resist so many prayers; especially when I saw myself accused of want of affection. I have now only to crave my readers' pardon; and if they find rashness and presumption in my attempt, to blame my advisers rather than me, since my own judgment agrees with that of my severest critic.
All the letters, therefore, which I have been able to find in various public archives that had been dictated by me as Quaestor, as Magister [Officiorum], or as Praefect, are here collected and arranged in twelve books. By the variety of subjects touched upon, the attention of the reader will be aroused, and it will be maintained by the feeling that he is rapidly approaching the conclusion of the letter.