as, but both these feelings will urge you to
complete the work in hand, that you may see your own powers reflected in
it, and measure them more exactly. This is the main cause of the
eagerness of young authors, and the reason why they often launch work
upon the sea of publicity which is sure to go immediately to the bottom,
from the unworkmanlike haste with which it has been put together. But
beyond this there is another cause, which is, that beginners in
literature have rarely acquired firm intellectual habits, that they do
not yet lead the tranquil intellectual life, so that such a piece of
work as the composition of a book keeps them in an unwholesome state of
excitement. When you feel this coming upon you, pray remember Mr.
Galton's wise traveller in unknown tracts, or the bargeman's wife in the
canal-boat.

Amongst the many advantages of experience, one of the most valuable is
that we come to know the range of our own powers, and if we are wise we
keep contentedly within them. This relieves us from the malady of
eagerness; we know pretty accurately beforehand what our work will be
when it is done, and therefore we are not in a hurry to see it
accomplished. The coolness of old hands in all departments of labor is
due in part to the cooling of the temperament by age, but it is due even
more to the fulness of acquired experience, for we do not find
middle-aged men so cool in situations where they feel themselves
incompetent. The conduct of the most experienced painters in the
management of their work is a good example of this masterly coolness,
because we can see them painting in their studios whereas we cannot so
easily see or so justly estimate the coolness of scientific or literary
workmen. A painter of great experience will have, usually, several
pictures at a time upon his easels, and pass an hour upon one, or an
hour upon the other, simple as the state of the pigment invites him
without ever being tempted to risk anything by hurrying a process. The
ugly preparatory daubing which irritates the impatience of the beginner
does not disturb _his_ equanimity; he has laid it with a view to the
long-foreseen result, and it satisfies him temporarily as the right
thing for the time being. If you know what is the right thing for the
time being, and always do it, you are sure of the calm of the thorough
workman. All his touches, except the very last touch on each work, are
touches of preparation, leading gradually up to his