As we get deeper into the study of masterpieces, we shall discover that there are stronger and deepening sources of a genuine interest. Even the difficulties and problems which are supposed to dampen interest will be found, with proper study, to be the source of a stronger appreciation and enthusiasm. The refining and strengthening of these interests in literature leads on steadily to the final goal of study, a cultivated taste and habit of using the best books. 2. A complete work of a master writer is a unit of thought. It is almost as complete a whole as a living organism. Its parts, like the branches of a tree, have no vitality except in communication with the living trunk. In the "Vision of Sir Launfal," there is a single thought, like a golden thread, running through the poem, which gives unity and perfection to it. The separate parts of the poem have very great intrinsic beauty and charm, but their deeper and more vital relation is to this central thought. The story of "The Great Stone Face" is the grouping of a series of interesting episodes along the path of a single developing motive in the life of Ernest. A great writer would scarcely waste his time in trying to produce a work of art without a controlling motive, collecting his thought, as it were, around a vacuum. This hub-thought must become the centre of all intelligent study. The effort to unravel the motive of the author is the deeper stimulus of thoughtful work by both teacher and pupils. In other studies, like geography, history, and natural science, we are gradually picking out the important units of study, the centres of thought and interest, the types. This effort to escape from the wilderness of jumbled and fractional details into the sunlit region of controlling ideas, is a substantial sign of progress in the teacher's work. In literature these units have been already wrought out into perfect wholes by first-class thinkers. In the greatest of all studies, the works of the literary masters, we have the surest models of inspiring thought, organized and focussed upon essential topics. Teachers, in some cases, are so little accustomed to lift their heads above the tall grass and weeds around them, that they are overtaken by surprise and bewilderment when called upon to take broad and liberal surveys of the topography of school studies. It is fortunate that we have, within the fenced boundaries of the commonly recognized school course, these shining specimens of organized, and, what we might call, intelligent thought. We can set the children at work digging for the root-thoughts of those who are the masters of strong thinking. This digging process is not wholly out of place with children. Their abundant energy can be turned to digging if there is anything worth digging for. Ruskin, in "Sesame and Lilies," says:--