Books are the chief food of our intellectual life.--There are men that have, indeed, done great things who have read but little. These have had their want of mental training compensated by their powers of observation and experience of life. But they have been for the most part exceptional men, and it is possible they might have done better if they had studied more. To the great majority of men books are the great teachers, the chief ministers to self-culture. Books in a special manner represent intellect to those who can appreciate them. We cannot estimate in this aspect their importance. They are in regard to self-culture what Montaigne calls "the best viaticum for the journey of life." When we think of what we owe to them, we may enter into the feelings of Charles Lamb, who "wished to ask a grace before reading more than a grace before meat." In regard to books, the practical questions that present themselves are, what we should read, and how we should read. The first question cannot be answered in any definite manner. (_a_) The enormous number of books in the world forbids this. Let any one enter a library of even moderate size, and he will feel how almost hopeless it would be, even if it were profitable, to draw out a practicable list of what may be advantageously chosen for reading and what may well be cast aside. (_b_) Still more does the infinite variety of tastes, circumstances: and talents, forbid the laying down of definite rules. Reading that might be profitable for one might not be so for another. Reading that would be pleasant to one would be to another weariness. Every class of mind seeks naturally its own proper food, and the choice of books must ultimately depend upon a man's own bias--on his natural bent and the necessities of his life. There are, however, one or two directions that may be given, and which may be profitable to young men.