[Footnote 2:  Collier, one of his critical editors, in his Introduction to the Sonettes, remarks upon this point:  “In many of them are to be found most remarkable indications of self-confidence and of assurance in the immortality of his verses, and in this respect the author’s opinion was constant and uniform.  He never scruples to express it,... and perhaps there is no writer of ancient or modern times who, for the quantity of such writings left behind him, has so frequently or so strongly declared that what he had produced in this department of poetry ‘the world would not willingly let die.’”]

A method of underrating good work often used by envy—­in reality, however, only the obverse side of it—­consists in the dishonorable and unscrupulous laudation of the bad; for no sooner does bad work gain currency than it draws attention from the good.  But however effective this method may be for a while, especially if it is applied on a large scale, the day of reckoning comes at last, and the fleeting credit given to bad work is paid off by the lasting discredit which overtakes those who abjectly praised it.  Hence these critics prefer to remain anonymous.

A like fate threatens, though more remotely, those who depreciate and censure good work; and consequently many are too prudent to attempt it.  But there is another way; and when a man of eminent merit appears, the first effect he produces is often only to pique all his rivals, just as the peacock’s tail offended the birds.  This reduces them to a deep silence; and their silence is so unanimous that it savors of preconcertion.  Their tongues are all paralyzed.  It is the silentium livoris described by Seneca.  This malicious silence, which is technically known as ignoring, may for a long time interfere with the growth of reputation; if, as happens in the higher walks of learning, where a man’s immediate audience is wholly composed of rival workers and professed students, who then form the channel of his fame, the greater public is obliged to use its suffrage without being able to examine the matter for itself.  And if, in the end, that malicious silence is broken in upon by the voice of praise, it will be but seldom that this happens entirely apart from some ulterior aim, pursued by those who thus manipulate justice.  For, as Goethe says in the West-oestlicher Divan, a man can get no recognition, either from many persons or from only one, unless it is to publish abroad the critic’s own discernment: 

Denn es ist kein Anerkenen, Weder Vieler, noch des Einen, Wenn es nicht am Tage foerdert, Wo man selbst was moechte scheinen.

The credit you allow to another man engaged in work similar to your own or akin to it, must at bottom be withdrawn from yourself; and you can praise him only at the expense of your own claims.