“MOST of the Novels,” returned my father, “with which our female libraries are over run, are built on a foundation not always placed on strict morality, and in the pursuit of objects not always probable or praiseworthy.—Novels, not regulated on the chaste principles of true friendship, rational love, and connubial duty, appear to me totally unfit to form the minds of women, of friends, or of wives.” “BUT, as most young people read,” says Mrs. _Bourn_—“what rule can be _hit upon_ to make study always terminate to advantage?” “IMPOSSIBLE,” cried Miss, “for I read as much as anybody, and though it may afford amusement, while I am employed, I do not remember a single word, when I lay down the book.” “THIS confirms what I say of Novels,” cried Mr. _Holmes_, addressing _Worthy_ in a jocular manner, “just calculated to kill time—to attract the attention of the reader for an hour, but leave not one idea on the mind.” “I AM far from condemning every production in the gross,” replied _Worthy_; “general satire against any particular class, or order of men, may be viewed in the same light as a satire against species—it is the same with books—if there are corrupt or mortified members, it is hardly fair to destroy the whole body. Now I grant some Novels have a bad tendency, yet there are many which contain excellent sentiments—let these receive their deserved reward—let those be discountenanced; and if it is impossible “to smite them with an apoplexy, there is a moral certainty of their dying of a consumption.”—But, as Mrs. _Bourn_ observes, most young persons read, I will recommend to those who wish to mingle instruction with entertainment, method and regularity in reading. To _dip_ into _any book_ burthens the mind with unnecessary lumber, and may rather be called a disadvantage, than a benefit—The record of memory is so scrawled and blotted with imperfect ideas, that not one legible character can be traced. “WERE I to throw my thoughts on this subject,” said my good father-in-law, as he began to enter more and more warmly into the debate—drawing his chair opposite _Worthy_, and raising his hand with a poetical enthusiasm—“Were I to throw my thoughts on this subject into an Allegory, I would describe the human mind as an extensive plain, and knowledge as the river that should water it. If the course of the river be properly directed, the plain will be fertilized and cultivated to advantage; but if books, which are the sources that feed this river, rush into it from every quarter, it will overflow its banks, and the plain become inundated: When, therefore, knowledge flows on in its proper channel, this extensive and valuable field, the mind, instead of being covered with stagnant waters, is cultivated to the utmost advantage, and blooms luxuriantly into a general efflorescence—for a river properly restricted by high banks, is necessarily progressive.”