"I have written _Catiline_ in eight days," said Voltaire; "and I immediately commenced the _Henriade_." Voltaire was a most impatient writer, and usually had the first half of a work set up in type before the second half was written. He always had several works in the course of composition at the same time. His manner of preparing a work was peculiar. He had his first sketch of a tragedy set up in type, and then rewrote it from the proofs. Balzac adopted the same plan. The printed form enabled them to introduce effects, and correct errors more easily. Pascal wrote most of his thoughts on little scraps of paper, at his by-moments of leisure. He produced them with immense rapidity. He wrote in a kind of contracted language--like short hand--impossible to read, except by those who had studied it. It resembled the impatient and fiery scratches of Napoleon; yet, though half-formed, the characters have the firmness and precision of the graver. Some one observed to Faguere (Pascal's editor), "This work (deciphering it) must be very fatiguing to the eyes." "No," said he, "it is not the eyes that are fatigued, so much as the brain." Many authors have been distinguished for the fastidiousness of their composition--never resting satisfied, but correcting and re-correcting to the last moment. Cicero spent his old age in correcting his orations; Massillon in polishing his sermons; Fenelon corrected his _Telemachus_ seven times over. Of thirty verses which Virgil wrote in the morning, there were only ten left at night. Milton often cut down forty verses to twenty. Buffon would condense six pages into as many paragraphs. Montaigne, instead of cutting down, amplified and added to his first sketch. Boileau had great difficulty in making his verses. He said--"If I write four words, I erase three of them;" and at another time--"I sometimes hunt three hours for a rhyme!" Some authors were never satisfied with their work. Virgil ordered his _Æneid_ to be burnt. Voltaire cast his poem of _The League_ into the fire. Racine and Scott could not bear to read their productions again. Michael Angelo was always dissatisfied; he found faults in his greatest and most admired works. Many of the most admired writings were never intended by their authors for publication. Fenelon, when he wrote _Telemachus_, had no intention of publishing it. Voltaire's _Correspondence_ was never intended for publication, and yet it is perused with avidity; whereas his _Henriade_, so often corrected by him, is scarcely read. Madame de Sevigní, in writing to her daughter those fascinating letters descriptive of the life of the French Court, never had any idea of their publication, or that they would be cited as models of composition and style. What work of Johnson's is best known? Is it not that by Boswell, which contains the great philosopher's conversation?--that which he never intended should come to light, and for which we have to thank Bozzy.