And now, looking at the multitude of books existing or coming into existence—such an immense, such an ever-increasing multitude, that we may adopt the hyperbole of the text, and say it seems as if the world could not contain them—what is the use which we ought to make of them? A taste for literature is a natural instinct in some, and an accomplishment acquired by others; and the duty of creating it if we have it not, and of nurturing it if we have, is plainly recognised in the New Testament. “Give attendance to reading.” If the exhortation primarily applies to those who are teachers of their fellow-men, it cannot fail to belong also to others in their measure and degree. Numerous methods of obtaining knowledge no doubt there are; but many of the forms of knowledge, many of the benefits of knowledge, many of the pleasures of knowledge, can be secured only by means of books. The person deficient in a taste for reading misses a large amount of benefit and enjoyment familiar to those who are blessed with this endowment—an endowment which, though, as intimated already, in some cases a natural instinct, may in other cases be acquired and won as a studious accomplishment. Tastes may be formed by study, by attention, by desire, by effort, by practice—tastes of all kinds, and this amongst the rest; and looking at the rich heritage of blessedness which it brings, it must appear, to every one who sufficiently thinks of it, worth the sacrifices of other and inferior things, when such sacrifices are found essential to its attainment and culture. Upon the young especially I would enforce the duty of which I speak, begging and beseeching them to contrast it with those vain, frivolous, worthless employments, not to mention the very worst, to which fashion and example in the present day invite so many thoughtless crowds.