t of his words. And since even the most insignificant person is
known in his own circle, the result of such a measure would be to
put an end to two-thirds of the newspaper lies, and to restrain the
audacity of many a poisonous tongue.

ON REPUTATION.

Writers may be classified as meteors, planets and fixed stars. A
meteor makes a striking effect for a moment. You look up and cry
_There!_ and it is gone for ever. Planets and wandering stars last
a much longer time. They often outshine the fixed stars and are
confounded with them by the inexperienced; but this only because they
are near. It is not long before they must yield their place; nay, the
light they give is reflected only, and the sphere of their influence
is confined to their own orbit--their contemporaries. Their path is
one of change and movement, and with the circuit of a few years their
tale is told. Fixed stars are the only ones that are constant; their
position in the firmament is secure; they shine with a light of their
own; their effect to-day is the same as it was yesterday, because,
having no parallax, their appearance does not alter with a difference
in our standpoint. They belong not to _one_ system, _one_ nation only,
but to the universe. And just because they are so very far away, it is
usually many years before their light is visible to the inhabitants of
this earth.

We have seen in the previous chapter that where a man's merits are of
a high order, it is difficult for him to win reputation, because the
public is uncritical and lacks discernment. But another and no less
serious hindrance to fame comes from the envy it has to encounter. For
even in the lowest kinds of work, envy balks even the beginnings of a
reputation, and never ceases to cleave to it up to the last. How great
a part is played by envy in the wicked ways of the world! Ariosto is
right in saying that the dark side of our mortal life predominates, so
full it is of this evil:

_questa assai piu oscura che serena
Vita mortal, tutta d'invidia piena_.

For envy is the moving spirit of that secret and informal, though
flourishing, alliance everywhere made by mediocrity against individual
eminence, no matter of what kind. In his own sphere of work no one
will allow another to be distinguished: he is an intruder who cannot
be tolerated. _Si quelq'un excelle parmi nous, qu'il aille exceller
ailleurs_! this is the universal password of the second-rate. In
addition, then,