Notwithstanding, he was fond of controversy and courted it. I expressed to him once some surprise that he with such an even temper should write so often in controversial style; and that surely it were better to follow Harvey’s and old Sam Johnson’s plan, to do the best oneself, and leave the controversy altogether to others less personally influenced. He agreed that this was by far the best system, but did not think it practicable generally, and feared that silence might often be misinterpreted. Men who have something in them take different courses in the way of accepting the world’s recognition of their labours. The beginning, in most cases, is after a given pattern; the end is modified and turned about variously, according to the stamp of the man. All start with an exaggerated appreciation of their own doings, and with exaggerated feelings respecting the critics who first notice them. The critic is Jove the all wise, or Pluto the all black. There was never middleman critic yet. Some men stop at the first, either too elated with the pleasure of the first reception to venture more, or too cast down from the pain of a sharp reception to tempt fortune further. Cowards these both, in one word. Others enter into violent controversies; in the heat of the same, drop one or two contradictions, and, wishing every month that Cadmus had been still born, go on always at controversy, boring everybody, and especially those who would believe if not bored. Others, again, soon find their own level, and not only their own, but the level of their critics. Surfeited with commendation, or hardened by attacks, these care little for either, and make no retorts save such as are by ambuscade and go right home. A fourth class, of immovable temper and self-reliant, fall into what seems, superficially, indifference, but which means, deeply, the soul of earnestness. These do always the best thing at the time, and, when it is done to their own satisfaction, put it forward, with no anxiety whatever as to what may be said of it, with no intention of entering into any defence of it, and with no intention of doing anything less than themselves correct all such errors in it as after knowledge may indicate, or commit it to the flames, if destruction be its best fate. Fatalists in letters, men of this class, if it be pleasure to call them so; but great fatalists too—honest reviewers of their own works, who fear their own criticisms, and none other; who offer immense labours, and die to them as they offer. Dr. Snow, as we have seen, was the representative rather of the controversial class of workers. But he had his own way of doing the controversy business, which saved friendships, and exhibited a firm principle and an exact knowledge. It is not to be denied, however, that, had he put his labours before the world, and trusted in them and on the world’s justice, never replying a syllable, he would have avoided an extremity of argument