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I pursued in order to subdue my disinclination to dry books was this: to begin attentively to peruse it, and to continue thus one hour every day the book insensibly, by this means, becomes pleasing to you; and and even when reading Blackstone's Commentaries, which are very dry, I lay down the book with regret." There is nothing which is unpleasant long, if we put right into it with a hearty, cheerful good-will: no book is dry that adds to our knowledge, or that strengthens our mind. But how often do people go through a book as one of our countrymen is said to have changed horses at Paris, and then asked what the name of that town was!

3. My third hint is, that you use the pen whenever you read.

I am aware that I am now touching a difficult point. The pen is in danger of being used too much or too little. Some have large commonplace books into which they copy almost all they read, and thus trust nothing to memory. The consequence is, that the memory is injured and nearly destroyed by the process. It is better to make the memory

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grapple your acquirements and hold them, than to commit its charge to paper, and feel no further responsibility. Some things, however, must be preserved in the commonplace book, such as chronological events, dates, names, and the like. Sometimes, too, you take up a book for a few moments, which is not your You may never see it again. You find a sentence, or a fact, or an anecdote, or a beautiful figure, which you wish to retain. In all such cases, you should copy it. For example, I take up Byron's Letters to his Mother. I do not own the book, nor shall I ever own it. But I find the following two sentences, and I copy them, feeling sure that some time or other I shall want them. Visiting a convent in Portugal, he says, "The monks, who possess large revenues, are courteous enough, and understand Latin, so that we had a long conversation. They have a large library, and asked me, if the English had any books in their country!" Your commonplace books should be of two kinds;-one a kind of Index Rerum, in which you may note down the book and the page which treat on a particular subject. This

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should be arranged alphabetically by subjects. The other should be a book of extracts from such books as you cannot own, or which are rare and curious. These should be noted down under the proper heads in the index. It is impossible to read to the highest advantage without using the pen much. Sir William Jones well says, "Writing is the chain of memory." Dr Franklin, writing to a young lady, says, "I would advise you to read with a pen in your hand, and enter in a little book short hints of what you find that is curious, or that may be useful for this will be the best method of imprinting such particulars in your memory, where they will be ready, either for practice on some future occasion, if they are matters of utility, or at least to adorn and improve your conversation, if they are rather points of curiosity."

4. My fourth hint is, that you have a stated time for reading every day.

I am not now determining how much time you can spare for reading from other duties. I will suppose that, by close economy as to sleeping, dressing, and the like, you can com

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mand but three hours during the week. I say it is far better to divide those hours, and read half an hour daily, than to read three hours at once. You will read more carefully; you will give the mind more exclusively to your book. You will long to have the season return for reading, and you will have something to think upon during the day. One reason, as it seems to me, why so many lose all the benefit of reading is, that they not only read miscellaneously any thing they happen to fall upon, but they read any time when it happens to be convenient. If you have never made the trial, you will be astonished to find how the mind rejoices to have the stated hour arrive when she can return to the book. The Earl of Chatham, when trying to form the character of his nephew, writes thus: "If you do not set apart your hours of reading, and never suffer yourself or any one else to break in upon them, your days will slip through your hands, unprofitably and frivolously, unpraised by all you wish to please, and really unenjoyable to yourself." To this testimony, I will add, that I have never

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known any one who grew in knowledge and mental strength by reading, who had not the stated time when he went to his book, and with which nothing was suffered to interfere. You do not read much unless you read at stated times, and what you do read is not read to the best advantage. Always have a book on hand,a real, substantial book by you, which you are reading,—such a book as you would not feel ashamed to have a great man or a great scholar see lying upon your table.

As to the question, what you shall read, I have not time to go into it fully. Poetry, good, beautiful poetry, every lady ought to read. Poetry is the daughter of the skies. Inspiration, in her loftiest strains, comes to us in poetry. You cannot write it nor make it; but the mind through which it passes seems to be beautified, like the channels through which the clear, cold waters of the mountains run. It is a teacher whose voice was tuned in the skies, sweet as that of the silver trumpet, and whose robes reflect the purity and the odours of heaven. Not that you are to read poetry all the time, any more than you are to be surrounded by the colours of the

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