Letter 11005: [In this personal preface, Cassiodorus introduces the final two books of the Variae -- letters written in his own...

CassiodorusAdministrative Letters|c. 522 AD|Cassiodorus
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Preface to the Administrative Letters of the Prefecture.

[In this personal preface, Cassiodorus introduces the final two books of the Variae -- letters written in his own name as Praetorian Prefect, rather than on behalf of the kings. He offers a literary apology for any unevenness in style.]

The need for a preface often arises from difficulty itself, since what might have obstructed the writer's thought actually helps the author of a preface. This may strip away praise, but when handled gently it at least grants pardon -- for what is expected of the leisured cannot be demanded of the busy. An administrator of the highest rank would be a disgrace if he were thought to have had free time; even his private hours, so-called, are pounded by the tumult of affairs. Yet this defense will scarcely help me, since I am believed to have been busy and yet am judged to have had no excuse for writing badly.

It would have been far better to hide flawed work in obscurity than to publish something blameworthy through inconsiderate boldness. But this charge could only be brought by a man of leisure -- had I thrown out a word with careless haste, left an ordinary thought unadorned by elegant language, or failed to follow the ancients' rule of giving each person his proper voice. A busy man, however -- one seized by the variety of business, pressed constantly to give answers and dictate solutions for others -- cannot condemn me, since he knows he himself has been in the same danger.

A man conscious of his own struggles easily pardons another's. We do not always perform at our best in what we are sometimes thought capable of. A lively mind pours forth sharp invention freely; a preoccupied mind conceives only lukewarm words. What is always acute should also be polished, because the art of speaking is acknowledged to lie within our own power, while the spark of the mind depends on divine gifts alone.

What remains in my defense is the unexpected brevity of these books, which no one excuses more readily than someone believed capable of writing well. But lest anyone take offense that I, holding the supreme office of the Praetorian Prefecture and busy in every possible way, have dictated so little -- let him know it was done with the collaboration of that most prudent man Felix, whose counsel I shared in every matter.

Felix is a man first purified by the sincerity of his character: outstanding in legal knowledge, precise in his choice of words, old in wisdom though young in years, a gentle debater, an eloquent man of measured speech. By elegantly fulfilling the demands of public business, he brought our administration to a favorable reputation through his own labor. Otherwise, burdened as I was by such a mass of business, I might have been either overwhelmed or found arrogant. It was better that, refreshed by his assistance, I attended to royal affairs in such a way that I could not be found wanting in difficult matters.

I have therefore appended two small books of my own compositions from my service as prefect, so that I who spoke for ten books in the royal voice might not remain unknown in my own person. It would be absurd to fall silent in an office one has attained when one seemed to have said so much on behalf of others.

But after I had concluded my little work in twelve books at its desired end, friends compelled me to write also about the nature of the soul and its virtues -- so that, having said so much through the soul, I might be seen to say something about it as well.

Now spare me, you eloquent critics -- show favor to a beginner. If I deserve nothing on the score of eloquence, consider me at least for my most devoted labor. A man who could find time for writing while occupied by such pressing needs of the state -- even if it had been my fortune to overflow with Ciceronian rivers of words -- that itself deserves recognition. For even the fountain of eloquence himself, when asked to speak, is said to have excused himself on the grounds that he had not done his reading the day before. What can happen to others, if so great a master of fluency was known to need the benefit of preparation?

The mind truly sickens unless refreshed by constant reading. Granaries are quickly emptied when not constantly replenished. A treasury itself is easily drained if not refilled with new funds. Just so, the human mind, if not nourished by the discoveries of others, can quickly be depleted of its own. If anything in my writing gives off a pleasant scent, it is the flower of my studies -- and that flower, too, withers if plucked from its mother, the reading that nurtured it. A plant can be most flourishing where it is known to have been born, since all things live most fully at their source before they are torn from their natural soil. Therefore, a large share of forgiveness is due if we write without leisure and are read by those who do not read. But let me step away from this plea for pardon, lest an overly affected defense give more offense than the writing itself.

Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.

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