CHAPTER IV.

ON READING.

ALL distinguished men have been given to the habit of careful reading; and it is utterly impossible to arrive at any tolerable degree of distinction without this habit. "Reading," says Bacon, "makes a full man; conversation, a ready man; writing, an exact man." That which he means by "full' can never be attained, except by an extensive and thorough acquaintance with books. No genius, no power of inventing and creating thoughts, can ever supply a deficiency in this respect. The mightiest mind that was ever created, could, perhaps, here and there, strike out a road; but who would wish it to spend itself in beating about to discover a path, or even to make it, when the united minds of the generations who have gone before us, have done this for him? In order to have a judgment sound and correct, you must travel through the history of other times, and be able to compare the present with the past. To have the mind vigorous, you must refresh it, and strengthen it, by a continued contact with the mighty dead who have gone away, but left their imperishable thoughts behind them. We want to have the mind continually expanding, and creating new

thoughts, or at least feeding itself upon manly thoughts. What the food is to the blood, which circulates through your veins, that reading is to the mind; and the man who does not devote himself to reading, may despair of ever doing much in the world of mind. You can no more be the "full man" whom Bacon describes, without reading, than you can be vigorous and healthy without fresh nourishment. It would be no more reasonable to expect it, than to suppose that the Mississippi might roll on its flood of water to the ocean, though all its tributary streams were cut off, and it were replenished only by the occasional drops from the clouds.

Some read works of the imagination, or what is called the light literature of the day, while that which embraces solid thought is irksome. Young people are apt-and to this students are continually tempted-to read only for amusement.

The object of reading may be divided into several branches. The student reads for relaxation from more severe studies; he is thus refreshed, and his spirits are revived. He reads facts in the history and experience of mankind, and sees how they lived and acted under different circumstances. From these facts he draws conclusions; his views are enlarged, his judgment corrected, and the experience of former ages, and of all times, becomes his own. He reads chiefly, probably, for information; to store up knowledge for future use; and he wishes to classify and arrange it, that it may be ready at his call. He reads also for the sake of style-to learn how a strong, nervous, beautiful writer expresses himself.

It is obvious, that, in attaining any of these ends, except, perhaps, that of amusement,

reading should be performed slowly or deliberately. You will usually find that those who read a great multitude of books, have but little knowledge that is of any value. A large library has justly been denominated a learned luxury. Rapid readers generally are very desultory; and a man may read much, and know but very little. The hasty reader and the true scholar are two very different characters. One who has a deep insight into the nature of man, said that he never felt afraid to meet a man in any discussion who had a large library. It is the man who has perhaps only few books, but who thinks much, whose mind is the best furnished for intellectual operations. It will not be pretended, however, that there are not many exceptions to this remark. But, with a student, in the morning of life, there are no exceptions. If he would improve by his reading, it must be very deliberate. Can a stomach receive any amount or kind of food, hastily thrown into it, and digest it, and from it extract nourishment for the body? Not for any length of time. Neither can the mind receive and profit by that which is rapidly brought before it.

It is by no means certain that the ancients had not a great compensation for the fewness of their books, in the thoroughness with which they were compelled to study them. A book was then copied with the pen, to be owned; and he who transcribed a book for the sake of owning it, would be likely to understand it. Before the art of printing, books were so scarce, that ambassadors were sent from France to Rome, to beg a copy of Cicero de Oratore, and Quintilian's Institutes, etc., because a complete_copy of these works was not to be found in all France. Albert,

abbot of Gemblours, with incredible labour and expense, collected a library of one hundred and fifty volumes, including every thing; and this was considered a wonder indeed. In 1494, the library of the bishop of Winchester contained parts of seventeen books on various subjects; and, on his borrowing a Bible from the convent of St. Swithin, he had to give a heavy bond, drawn up with great solemnity, that he would return it uninjured.

When a book was purchased, it was an affair of such consequence, that persons of distinction were called together as witnesses. Previously to the year 1300, the library of Oxford consisted only of a few tracts, which were carefully locked up in a small chest, or else chained, lest they should escape; and at the commencement of the fourteenth century, the royal library of France contained only four classics, with a few devotional works.

It was probably no better in earlier times. Knowledge was scattered to the four winds, and truth was hidden in a well. Lycurgus and Pythagoras were obliged to travel into Egypt, Persia, and India, in order to understand the doctrine of the metempsychosis. Solon and

Plato had to go to Egypt for what they knew. Herodotus and Strabo were obliged to travel to collect their history, and to construct their geography as they travelled. Few men pretended to own a library, and he was accounted truly favoured who owned half a dozen volumes. And yet, with all this scarcity of books, there were in those days scholars who greatly surpassed us. We cannot write poetry like Homer, nor history like Thucydides. We have not the pen which Aristotle and Plato held, nor the

eloquence with which Demosthenes thrilled the hearts of his countrymen. They surpassed us in painting and in sculpture. Their books were but few. But those were very often and carefully read. Their own resources were tasked to the utmost, and he who could not draw from his own fountain, in vain sought for neighbours from whose wells he could borrow. How very different with us! We read without measure, and almost without profit. It is a good maxim, in regard to your reading, "Non multa, sed multum;" "Not many, but much."

Beware of bad books. Some men have employed their powers in writing what will continue to pollute and destroy for generations after they are gone. The world is flooded with such books. They are permitted to lie in our pathway as a part of our moral discipline. Under the moral government of God, while in this state of probation, we are to be surrounded with temptations of every kind. And never does the spirit of darkness rejoice more, than when a gifted mind can prostitute itself, not merely to revel in sin itself, but to adorn and conceal a path which is full of holes, through which you may drop into the chambers of death. Books could be named, were it not that there is a possibility that even the information conveyed in naming them might be perverted and used to obtain them, which, seemingly, could not be excelled by all the talents in hell, if the object were to pollute and to ruin. These are to be found everywhere. I do entreat my young readers never to look at one, never to open one. They will leave a stain upon the soul which can never be removed.

What shall be said of such works as those of Byron? May not a young man read those? Can