strong inclination for books, studies and literature depends almost entirely on domestic habits and pursuits, the family, in which _our_ common remembrances centre, is a striking example. During the years, in which the minds of this family received their unchangeable impress, the members were almost as vagrant in their modes, as the Tartars. All their education, except domestic, was exceedingly imperfect and desultory. Books were often wanting; adequate teachers always. But the love of the parents for books and reading was a simple, natural, unaffected and intense impulse. They loved the thing for its own sake, and independent of all its results. The first instruments of pleasure, and things of estimated value, that greeted the infant eyes of the children, were books; not furniture, dress, and the imposing ostentation of a modern parlor. Pleasant conversations, disputes, between laughter and seriousness, about these books, were the first conversations that greeted their listening ears. These conversations were perceived to be of deep and heart-felt interest, and as little mixed with pedantry and formality, as the manifestations of instinct. The children saw, that to those, they most loved, admired, and were disposed to imitate, books were the grand sources of interest, converse and enjoyment. They as naturally imbibed similar tastes, as, to use a coarse illustration, the children of savages learn to love hunting. The first thing for which they contended, and with which they wished to play, was a book, or a picture. Their first lispings were trials of skill, touching the comparative progress, which they had made in their knowledge of the contents of these books, and the application of it to present use. These trials they saw to be the chief points of interest and amusement for their parents. Thus, habits of reading and application _grew with their growth and strengthened with their strength_; and many a criticism, if not erudite and profound, at least eliciting hearty praise and laughter, passed away unrecorded in their domestic privacy. Their neighbors admired, and, I fear, envied, and calumniated; but could not but take astonished note of such results in a family without wealth, without the common appliances, which themselves could so much better afford, and which they had been accustomed to consider the only price, at which intellectual improvement could be purchased. It was placed beyond question, or denial, that the members of that family had right views, quiet and unawed self-respect, and could converse rationally, upon every other topic, as well as books; that tact and discrimination pervaded their manifestations of thought and pursuit; and that they possessed an inexhaustible source of amusement, and satisfaction independent of wealth, fashion, society, distinction, or any external resource whatever--the habit of internal reflection, comparison and pleasant converse with themselves.