y of color still completely holds the field, forty years after
the publication of Goethe's. Hume, too, was disregarded up to his
fiftieth year, though he began very early and wrote in a thoroughly
popular style. And Kant, in spite of having written and talked all his
life long, did not become a famous man until he was sixty.

[Footnote 1: See especially Sec.Sec. 35, 113, 118, 120, 122, 128.]

Artists and poets have, to be sure, more chance than thinkers, because
their public is at least a hundred times as large. Still, what was
thought of Beethoven and Mozart during their lives? what of Dante?
what even of Shakespeare? If the latter's contemporaries had in any
way recognized his worth, at least one good and accredited portrait of
him would have come down to us from an age when the art of painting
flourished; whereas we possess only some very doubtful pictures, a
bad copperplate, and a still worse bust on his tomb.[1] And in like
manner, if he had been duly honored, specimens of his handwriting
would have been preserved to us by the hundred, instead of being
confined, as is the case, to the signatures to a few legal documents.
The Portuguese are still proud of their only poet Camoens. He lived,
however, on alms collected every evening in the street by a black
slave whom he had brought with him from the Indies. In time, no doubt,
justice will be done everyone; _tempo e galant uomo_; but it is
as late and slow in arriving as in a court of law, and the secret
condition of it is that the recipient shall be no longer alive. The
precept of Jesus the son of Sirach is faithfully followed: _Judge none
blessed before his death._[2] He, then, who has produced immortal
works, must find comfort by applying to them the words of the Indian
myth, that the minutes of life amongst the immortals seem like years
of earthly existence; and so, too, that years upon earth are only as
the minutes of the immortals.

[Footnote 1: A. Wivell: _An Inquiry into the History, Authenticity,
and Characteristics of Shakespeare's Portraits_; with 21 engravings.
London, 1836.]

[Footnote 2: _Ecclesiasticus_, xi. 28.]

This lack of critical insight is also shown by the fact that, while
in every century the excellent work of earlier time is held in honor,
that of its own is misunderstood, and the attention which is its due
is given to bad work, such as every decade carries with it only to be
the sport of the next. That men are slow to recognize genuine me