ff the fruit for
the first three years, and not to taste them. He was not ignorant how it
weakens a young tree to bring to maturity its first fruits. Thus, on
literary compositions, our green essays ought to be picked away. The
word _Zamar_, by a beautiful metaphor from _pruning trees_, means in
Hebrew to _compose verses_. Blotting and correcting was so much
Churchill's abhorrence, that I have heard from his publisher he once
energetically expressed himself, that _it was like cutting away one's
own flesh_. This strong figure sufficiently shows his repugnance to an
author's duty. Churchill now lies neglected, for posterity will only
respect those who

----File off the mortal part
Of glowing thought with Attic art.
YOUNG.

I have heard that this careless bard, after a successful work, usually
precipitated the publication of another, relying on its crudeness being
passed over by the public curiosity excited by its better brother. He
called this getting double pay, for thus he secured the sale of a
hurried work. But Churchill was a spendthrift of fame, and enjoyed all
his revenue while he lived; posterity owes him little, and pays him
nothing!

Bayle, an experienced observer in literary matters, tells us that
_correction_ is by no means practicable by some authors, as in the case
of Ovid. In exile, his compositions were nothing more than spiritless
repetitions of what he had formerly written. He confesses both
negligence and idleness in the corrections of his works. The vivacity
which animated his first productions failing him when he revised his
poems, he found correction too laborious, and he abandoned it. This,
however, was only an excuse. "It is certain that _some authors cannot
correct_. They compose with pleasure, and with ardour; but they exhaust
all their force. They fly with but one wing when they review their
works; the first fire does not return; there is in their imagination a
certain calm which hinders their pen from making any progress. Their
mind is like a boat, which only advances by the strength of oars."

Dr. More, the Platonist, had such an exuberance of fancy, that
_correction_ was a much greater labour than _composition_. He used to
say, that in writing his works, he was forced to cut his way through a
crowd of thoughts as through a wood, and that he threw off in his
compositions as much as would make an ordinary philosopher. More was a
great enthusiast,