ration would thus of its own accord fall away; and, in Mr. Hare's
narrative itself, apart from his commentary, many features of Sterling's
true character would become decipherable to such as sought them.
Censure, blame of this Work of Mr. Hare's was naturally far from my
thoughts. A work which distinguishes itself by human piety and candid
intelligence; which, in all details, is careful, lucid, exact; and which
offers, as we say, to the observant reader that will interpret facts,
many traits of Sterling besides his heterodoxy. Censure of it, from me
especially, is not the thing due; from me a far other thing is due!--

On the whole, my private thought was: First, How happy it comparatively
is, for a man of any earnestness of life, to have no Biography written
of him; but to return silently, with his small, sorely foiled bit of
work, to the Supreme Silences, who alone can judge of it or him; and not
to trouble the reviewers, and greater or lesser public, with attempting
to judge it! The idea of "fame," as they call it, posthumous or
other, does not inspire one with much ecstasy in these points of
view.--Secondly, That Sterling's performance and real or seeming
importance in this world was actually not of a kind to demand an express
Biography, even according to the world's usages. His character was not
supremely original; neither was his fate in the world wonderful. What
he did was inconsiderable enough; and as to what it lay in him to have
done, this was but a problem, now beyond possibility of settlement. Why
had a Biography been inflicted on this man; why had not No-biography,
and the privilege of all the weary, been his lot?--Thirdly, That such
lot, however, could now no longer be my good Sterling's; a tumult having
risen around his name, enough to impress some pretended likeness of him
(about as like as the Guy-Fauxes are, on Gunpowder-Day) upon the minds
of many men: so that he could not be forgotten, and could only be
misremembered, as matters now stood.

Whereupon, as practical conclusion to the whole, arose by degrees this
final thought, That, at some calmer season, when the theological dust
had well fallen, and both the matter itself, and my feelings on it, were
in a suitabler condition, I ought to give my testimony about this friend
whom I had known so well, and record clearly what my knowledge of him
was. This has ever since seemed a kind of duty I had to do in the world
before leaving it.

And so, having