reverence and the presence
of the person, and between fame and life. It comes second in his
_Epistolae familiares?_[1] and it is addressed to Thomas Messanensis.
He there observes, amongst other things, that the learned men of his
age all made it a rule to think little of a man's writings if they had
even once seen him.

[Footnote 1: In the Venetian edition of 1492.]

Since distance, then, is essential if a famous man is to be recognized
and revered, it does not matter whether it is distance of space or of
time. It is true that he may sometimes hear of his fame in the one
case, but never in the other; but still, genuine and great merit may
make up for this by confidently anticipating its posthumous fame.
Nay, he who produces some really great thought is conscious of his
connection with coming generations at the very moment he conceives it;
so that he feels the extension of his existence through centuries
and thus lives _with_ posterity as well as _for_ it. And when, after
enjoying a great man's work, we are seized with admiration for him,
and wish him back, so that we might see and speak with him, and have
him in our possession, this desire of ours is not unrequited; for
he, too, has had his longing for that posterity which will grant
the recognition, honor, gratitude and love denied by envious
contemporaries.

If intellectual works of the highest order are not allowed their due
until they come before the tribunal of posterity, a contrary fate
is prepared for certain brilliant errors which proceed from men of
talent, and appear with an air of being well grounded. These errors
are defended with so much acumen and learning that they actually
become famous with their own age, and maintain their position at least
during their author's lifetime. Of this sort are many false theories
and wrong criticisms; also poems and works of art, which exhibit some
false taste or mannerism favored by contemporary prejudice. They gain
reputation and currency simply because no one is yet forthcoming who
knows how to refute them or otherwise prove their falsity; and when
he appears, as he usually does, in the next generation, the glory of
these works is brought to an end. Posthumous judges, be their decision
favorable to the appellant or not, form the proper court for quashing
the verdict of contemporaries. That is why it is so difficult and so
rare to be victorious alike in both tribunals.

The unfailing tendency of time to correct know