The subject of his meditations might have been guessed from the following words, had anyone been there to hear them.
“Marielle Heritage! What a pretty name!” said he softly to himself. Then rousing himself with an impatient shake, he rose out of his chair, and in his turn went upstairs to get ready for dinner.
(To be continued.)
[SELF-CULTURE FOR GIRLS.]
PART III.
f making many books there is no end,” said the Sage of old. What would he say could he re-visit the world at the present moment? The very multitude of aids to self-culture is, as Frederick Harrison remarks, a serious drawback in the way of those who attempt it. Books may be cheap, free libraries may abound, but where shall the eager student begin? On every hand voices call to her, urgently claiming attention, until at last, distracted by the various appeals, she is fain to cover her ears with her hands and remain deaf to all alike. Or to change the figure, those who wish to tread the path of self-culture are like wanderers in some vast unknown forest. Paths cross and re-cross one another in every direction, and industry in plodding forward is vain without a guiding clue or sign.
It is true that a girl who has free access to a good library, a love of books, and ample leisure, will not in all probability go very far wrong. When a lad, Dr. Johnson imagined that his brother had hidden some apples behind a large folio upon an upper shelf in his father’s shop. He climbed up to search for them; there were no apples, but the large folio proved to be Petrarch. He sat down with avidity and there and then read a great part of the book. During two years which he spent at home he read and read as the fancy prompted him, and when he went to Oxford Dr. Adams, a great authority, told him he was the best qualified student who had ever come there.