Books are so common, that it becomes necessary to be careful in the selection of them. Tares and wheat will spring up together; the earth produces noxious weeds with the most excellent fruit. If, then, we do not reject the tainted and imperfect grains, a diseased crop is the result. It cannot be expected in this age of inquiry and the rapid progress of learning, that all books should be of an improving character, but the good greatly overbalance the evil. "This advantage," said Gregory the Great (writing so early as the end of the sixth century), "we owe to a multiplicity of books; one book falls in the way of one man, and another best suits the level or the apprehension of another; it is of service that the same subject should be handled by several persons after different methods, though all on the same principle." A superfluity of good books is beneficial; I would {110} illustrate this proposition thus: The Nile as it flows fertilizes a vast tract of land; but if it were not for the streams and rivulets that are artificially constructed to diverge from it, in order to draw from the main supply of water some portion of the alimentary matter it contains, other tracts would not be fertilized: so the great folios in their wide expanse of text and margin have their important use, while the streams and rills which issue from the parent flood are illustrative of quartos, octavos, duodecimos, 24mos, and 48mos, that refresh and enrich minds innumerable. -------- ORIGINAL. LUCIFER MATUTINUS. From a heart of infinite longing the youth Looks out on the world; "Where, spirit of candor--where, spirit of truth, Are thy banners unfurled? "O chivalrous chastity! lovely as morn. The dew on thy helmet, I hail thee afar; Like Lucifer, beautiful angel of dawn, I wear thy deep azure, I follow thy star. "Not mammon, not lucre; though white as sea-gulls The broad sails I watch studding ocean's blue deep, To droop their gay pennons where dreamily lulls The tropical breeze, and the lotus-flower sleeps. "But glory! but honor! the joy of a name Not written on sand; which for ages will stir All hearts that are noble, or kindle the flame Of devotion consuming the rapt worshipper." Thus from heart of infinite longing the youth. Looking out on the world, Cries ever, "Woo wisdom, woo beauty, woo truth:"-- The sordid world, jaded with care, answers: "Ruth Waits on thy wild dreamings, O turbulent youth!" And with laughter uncouth Mocks life's fairest banners in brightness unfurled.