Not only does a library contain "infinite riches in a little room," [3] but we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth. We may travel round the world with Captain Cook or Darwin, with Kingsley or Ruskin, who will show us much more perhaps than ever we should see for ourselves. The world itself has no limits for us; Humboldt and Herschel will carry us far away to the mysterious nebulae, beyond the sun and even the stars: time has no more bounds than space; history stretches out behind us, and geology will carry us back for millions of years before the creation of man, even to the origin of the material Universe itself. Nor are we limited to one plane of thought. Aristotle and Plato will transport us into a sphere none the less delightful because we cannot appreciate it without some training. Comfort and consolation, refreshment and happiness, may indeed be found in his library by any one "who shall bring the golden key that unlocks its silent door." [4] A library is true fairyland, a very palace of delight, a haven of repose from the storms and troubles of the world. Rich and poor can enjoy it equally, for here, at least, wealth gives no advantage. We may make a library, if we do but rightly use it, a true paradise on earth, a garden of Eden without its one drawback; for all is open to us, including, and especially, the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, for which we are told that our first mother sacrificed all the Pleasures of Paradise. Here we may read the most important histories, the most exciting volumes of travels and adventures, the most interesting stories, the most beautiful poems; we may meet the most eminent statesmen, poets, and philosophers, benefit by the ideas of the greatest thinkers, and enjoy the grandest creations of human genius. [1] Macaulay. [2] Address, Liverpool College, 1873. [3] Marlowe. [4] Matthews. CHAPTER IV. THE CHOICE OF BOOKS. "All round the room my silent servants wait My friends in every season, bright and dim, Angels and Seraphim Come down and murmur to me, sweet and low, And spirits of the skies all come and go Early and Late." PROCTOR. And yet too often they wait in vain. One reason for this is, I think, that people are overwhelmed by the crowd of books offered to them. In old days books were rare and dear. Now on the contrary, it may be said with greater truth than ever that "Words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think."