Again, it may be said that there are three kinds of authors. First
come those who write without thinking. They write from a full memory,
from reminiscences; it may be, even straight out of other people's
books. This class is the most numerous. Then come those who do their
thinking whilst they are writing. They think in order to write; and
there is no lack of them. Last of all come those authors who think
before they begin to write. They are rare.

Authors of the second class, who put off their thinking until they
come to write, are like a sportsman who goes forth at random and is
not likely to bring very much home. On the other hand, when an author
of the third or rare class writes, it is like a _battue_. Here the
game has been previously captured and shut up within a very small
space; from which it is afterwards let out, so many at a time, into
another space, also confined. The game cannot possibly escape the
sportsman; he has nothing to do but aim and fire--in other words,
write down his thoughts. This is a kind of sport from which a man has
something to show.

But even though the number of those who really think seriously before
they begin to write is small, extremely few of them think about _the
subject itself_: the remainder think only about the books that have
been written on the subject, and what has been said by others. In
order to think at all, such writers need the more direct and powerful
stimulus of having other people's thoughts before them. These become
their immediate theme; and the result is that they are always under
their influence, and so never, in any real sense of the word, are
original. But the former are roused to thought by the subject itself,
to which their thinking is thus immediately directed. This is the only
class that produces writers of abiding fame.