our own estimate of excellence in speech. Scarcely ever do we find a
thought clothed in clear, precise, closely-fitting words, or a
metaphor which really corresponds to the abstract idea that is
represented by it. We take up sentence after sentence of verbose and
flaccid Latin, analyse them with difficulty, and when at last we come
to the central thought enshrouded in them, we too often find that it
is the merest and most obvious commonplace, a piece of tinsel wrapped
in endless folds of tissue paper. Perhaps from one point of view the
study of the style of Cassiodorus might prove useful to a writer of
English, as indicating the faults which he has in this age most
carefully to avoid. Over and over again, when reading newspaper
articles full of pompous words borrowed from Latin through French,
when wearied with 'velleities' and 'solidarities' and 'altruisms' and
'homologators,' or when vainly endeavouring to discover the real
meaning which lies hidden in a jungle of Parliamentary verbiage, I
have said to myself, remembering my similar labour upon the 'Variae,'
'How like this is to Cassiodorus.'

[Sidenote: Lack of humour.]

[Sidenote: The letter about the sucking-fish.]

Intellectually one of the chief deficiencies of our author--a
deficiency in which perhaps his age and nation participated--was a
lack of humour. It is difficult to think that anyone who possessed a
keen sense of humour could have written letters so drolly unsuited to
the character of Theodoric, their supposed author, as are some which
we find in the 'Variae.' For instance, the King had reason to complain
that Faustus, the Praetorian Praefect, was dawdling over the execution
of an order which he had received for the shipment of corn from the