always present, and even if present, are not always just or
unbiased observers. This disadvantage, however, is counterbalanced
by the fact that actions have the advantage of being of a practical
character, and, therefore, within the range of general human
intelligence; so that once the facts have been correctly reported,
justice is immediately done; unless, indeed, the motive underlying the
action is not at first properly understood or appreciated. No action
can be really understood apart from the motive which prompted it.

It is just the contrary with works. Their inception does not depend
upon chance, but wholly and entirely upon their author; and whoever
they are in and for themselves, that they remain as long as they live.
Further, there is a difficulty in properly judging them, which becomes
all the harder, the higher their character; often there are no persons
competent to understand the work, and often no unbiased or honest
critics. Their fame, however, does not depend upon one judge only;
they can enter an appeal to another. In the case of actions, as I have
said, it is only their memory which comes down to posterity, and then
only in the traditional form; but works are handed down themselves,
and, except when parts of them have been lost, in the form in
which they first appeared. In this case there is no room for any
disfigurement of the facts; and any circumstance which may have
prejudiced them in their origin, fall away with the lapse of time.
Nay, it is often only after the lapse of time that the persons really
competent to judge them appear--exceptional critics sitting in
judgment on exceptional works, and giving their weighty verdicts in
succession. These collectively form a perfectly just appreciation; and
though there are cases where it has taken some hundreds of years to
form it, no further lapse of time is able to reverse the verdict;--so
secure and inevitable is the fame of a great work.

Whether authors ever live to see the dawn of their fame depends upon
the chance of circumstance; and the higher and more important their
works are, the less likelihood there is of their doing so. That was
an incomparable fine saying of Seneca's, that fame follows merit as
surely as the body casts a shadow; sometimes falling in front, and
sometimes behind. And he goes on to remark that _though the envy of
contemporaries be shown by universal silence, there will come those
who will judge without enmity or favor_. Fro