m this remark it is
manifest that even in Seneca's age there were rascals who understood
the art of suppressing merit by maliciously ignoring its existence,
and of concealing good work from the public in order to favor the bad:
it is an art well understood in our day, too, manifesting itself, both
then and now, in _an envious conspiracy of silence_.

As a general rule, the longer a man's fame is likely to last, the
later it will be in coming; for all excellent products require time
for their development. The fame which lasts to posterity is like an
oak, of very slow growth; and that which endures but a little while,
like plants which spring up in a year and then die; whilst false fame
is like a fungus, shooting up in a night and perishing as soon.

And why? For this reason; the more a man belongs to posterity, in
other words, to humanity in general, the more of an alien he is to his
contemporaries; since his work is not meant for them as such, but only
for them in so far as they form part of mankind at large; there is
none of that familiar local color about his productions which would
appeal to them; and so what he does, fails of recognition because it
is strange.

People are more likely to appreciate the man who serves the
circumstances of his own brief hour, or the temper of the
moment,--belonging to it, living and dying with it.

The general history of art and literature shows that the highest
achievements of the human mind are, as a rule, not favorably received
at first; but remain in obscurity until they win notice from
intelligence of a high order, by whose influence they are brought into
a position which they then maintain, in virtue of the authority thus
given them.

If the reason of this should be asked, it will be found that
ultimately, a man can really understand and appreciate those things
only which are of like nature with himself. The dull person will like
what is dull, and the common person what is common; a man whose ideas
are mixed will be attracted by confusion of thought; and folly will
appeal to him who has no brains at all; but best of all, a man will
like his own works, as being of a character thoroughly at one with
himself. This is a truth as old as Epicharmus of fabulous memory--

[Greek: Thaumaston ouden esti me tauth outo legein
Kal andanein autoisin autous kal dokein
Kalos pethukenai kal gar ho kuon kuni
Kalloton eimen phainetai koi bous boi
Onos dono kalliston [estin], us d