utmost extent of kindness between the author and the public which can
really exist, is, that the world are disposed to be somewhat indulgent
to the succeeding works of an original favourite, were it but on
account of the habit which the public mind has acquired; while the
author very naturally thinks well of _their_ taste, who have so
liberally applauded _his_ productions. But I deny there is any call
for gratitude, properly so called, either on one side or the other.

_Captain._ Respect to yourself, then, ought to teach caution.

_Author._ Ay, if caution could augment the chance of my success. But,
to confess to you the truth, the works and passages in which I have
succeeded, have uniformly been written with the greatest rapidity; and
when I have seen some of these placed in opposition with others, and
commended as more highly finished, I could appeal to pen and standish,
that the parts in which I have come feebly off, were by much the more
laboured. Besides, I doubt the beneficial effect of too much delay,
both on account of the author and the public. A man should strike
while the iron is hot, and hoist sail while the wind is fair. If a
successful author keep not the stage, another instantly takes his
ground. If a writer lie by for ten years ere he produces a second
work, he is superseded by others; or, if the age is so poor of genius
that this does not happen, his own reputation becomes his greatest
obstacle. The public will expect the new work to be ten times better
than its predecessor; the author will expect it should be ten times
more popular, and 'tis a hundred to ten that both are disappointed.

_Captain_. This may justify a certain degree of rapidity in
publication, but not that which is proverbially said to be no speed.
You should take time at least to arrange your story.