ded as a misfortune for Theodoric that his maxims of statesmanship,
which were assuredly full of manly sense and vigour, should have reached
us only in such a shape, diluted with the platitudes and false rhetoric
of a scholar of the decadence. Still, even through all these disguises,
it is easy to discern the genuine patriotism both of the great King and
of his minister, their earnest desire that right, not might, should
determine every case that came before them, their true insight into the
vices and the virtues of each of the two different nations which now
shared Italy between them, their persevering endeavour to keep
_civilitas_ intact, their determination to oppose alike the turbulence
of the Goth and the chicane of the scheming Roman.

As specimens of the rhetoric of Cassiodorus when he is trying his
highest flights, the reader may care to peruse the two following
letters. The first[91] was written to Faustus the Praetorian Prefect, to
complain of his delay in forwarding some cargoes of corn from Calabria
to Rome:

[Footnote 91: Var., i., 35.]

"What are you waiting for?" says Cassiodorus, writing in his master's
name. "Why are your ships not spreading their sails to the breeze? When
the South-wind is blowing and your oarsmen are urging on your vessels,
has the sucking-fish (Echeneis) fastened its bite upon them through the
liquid waves? Or have the shell-fishes of the Indian Sea with similar
power stayed your keels with their lips: those creatures whose quiet
touch is said to hold back, more than the tumultuous elements can
possibly urge forward? The idle bark stands still, though winged with
swelling sails, and has no way on her though the breeze is propitious;
she is fixed without anchors; she is moored without cables, and these
tiny animals pull back, more than all such favouring powers can propel.
Therefore when the subject wave would hasten the vessel's course, it
appears that it stands fixed on the surface of the sea: and in
marvellous style the floating ship is retained immovable, while the
wave is hurried along by countless currents.

"But let us describe the nature of another kind of fish. Perhaps the
crews of the aforesaid ships have been benumbed into idleness by the
touch of a torpedo, by which the right hand of him who attacks it is so
deadened--even through the spear by which it is itself wounded--that
while still part of a living body it hangs down benumbed without sense
or motion. I think some