is too wide and the young man must select a path. But even then his knowledge will be generous, and will avail itself of the learning of others, while he pursues his special work. The man will be so far informed in History, in Literature, in Science, that he can, when the occasion presents itself, keep company with educated men who profit by his society and are helped by his special knowledge. He will not build a fence around his learning, but let it reach out where it will. Thus he will share the knowledge which others have acquired.

We think at once of books as a treasury of knowledge upon which the man can draw. This treasury was never so great as now. Libraries are near his door and open to him. He can have the use of all the books which he can read. This is helpful, while in some respects the few books which a man can own are of more value to him than the many which he has merely the right to use for a few weeks. A good book deserves more than one reading. It is worth something to have it on the shelf and to be on familiar terms with it; to be able to take it in hand at any time, and to read it and to mark it as the owner pleases. It is a friend and should be loved. There is no reason why a young man should not have a few books which he knows, whose number will be enlarged, which will be his companions all the way, and grow more precious as the bind

ing fades. If it be necessary, it is wise to go without many things which are of transient use for the sake of these permanent associates. Economy should address itself to other things before it intrudes upon knowledge. The secret of the learning of Erasmus is in one of his letters, in which he writes that when he gets money he shall buy books, and afterwards clothes. "I starve for books," he wrote. "I want books and must have help to get them."

Some years ago there lived in Cambridge, not far from Harvard College, a man who gave this account of himself. "When I was twenty-eight years old I had never been anything better than a journeyman leather-dresser; I had never had more than twenty-five dollars a month; I had never paid five dollars to be carried from one place to another; I had never owned a pair of boots; I had never paid a penny to go to the play or to see a sight; but I owned above six hundred volumes of good books well bound." His library to-day is the central treasure of a renowned Historical Society, and his portrait hangs upon its wall. In our times it may not be expedient to follow strictly the course of this leather-dresser: but a young man will do well to take a lesson from the honoured life of Thomas Dowse. He continued in his craft and became wealthy, and he devoted his earnings to the purchase of good English books, so that he could

bequeath about five thousand handsome vol

umes.

A young man who likes instructive books has in him the promise of a gentleman. He is in good company. He hears good words fashioned into wise sentences. He is training himself to associate with gentlemen on equal terms. The number of useful books is not very large, in comparison with the whole number printed. Many of those newly printed are little more than another arrangement of old material. But there are new books, and one who can point them out is a friend. It is a good rule, that a book which can teach the reader one considerable thing has paid for itself. Some men have leisure for much reading and can be of service to those whose hours are limited. Reviews are of use when they are wisely and modestly written. Certainly it is a convenience to busy men to be told which books will repay the reading. This leads to the remark that wise men are good teachers, perhaps the best. They can give their learning in condensed form, and in such portions as can most readily be received. A few sentences, wisely spoken, will often impart what hours of reading might not yield. It is prudent to let men read for us, if we are busy, and to avail ourselves of their labour. The advantage to a young man of a respectful association with his elders and betters can hardly be overestimated. Such men are

willing to talk with anyone who has the spirit of a learner, and to give to him of the best. While he is obtaining this he will receive more, from the presence and manner and method of those who unconsciously instruct him.

Regarding the gentleman, let it be noticed, further, that he is genuine. He is marked by certain graces, and these are not external. He is not veneered with good manners. He wears with honesty the good word "solid." It has been said of Michael Angelo's frescoes in the Sistine Chapel, that they do not seem to be painted on the wall, but to be drawn out from it. It is so with real culture. It is in the nature, in the mind and heart. Pretence and imitation will not long pass undetected. "Politeness appears to be what goodness really is;" there is truth in the saying, but it would be better to say that real goodness is polite and is made attractive by courtesy.

Politeness has been called "fictitious benevolence," and said to supply the place of benevolence amongst those who see each other only in public, or but little. There is no reason that politeness should be fictitious.

Of course a man who is rude and uncouth may be esteemed for his virtues, but he is at a disadvantage and cannot complain if his obscure merits are not perceived. Men judge by small signs and often have no other way of judging.

If their judgments are incorrect, they may not be without excuse. We all have tests by which we measure men. Dr. Bushnell was apt to judge a man whom he did not know by his posture. If he stood erect, with his feet firmly planted, it was in his favour. There was the sign of an erect character, though the sign might not be trustworthy.

Good manners, using the word in the largest way, are the visible part of the gentleman. They may attend wealth and learning, or be found where these are wanting. Peggotty is the gentleman, not Turveydrop. "The apparel oft proclaims the man," although the rule must be used with extreme caution. Yet the apparel is the sign of something which the tailor does not furnish and cannot conceal. Men differ in their estimates, and the reason is not far to seek. George IV. was called "the first gentleman of Europe"; others called him a "Brummagem gentleman." He would not be described as a perfect gentleman, nor as a perfect gentleman.

Courtesy does not consist in polite forms and conventional performances. It is constant, intelligent, considerate. Without effort it is mindful of others. Sometimes it is a shield for them, and without obtruding itself. When Carlyle took his seat in the Queen's presence those who saw it were shocked. She said, "Let us all be seated," and the unintentional impropriety was