exercised, if we have simply received with unquestioning absorption, we have not yet learned the art of profitable reading. There is great wisdom in the old proverb, "Beware of the man of one book," for while "one book" does not contain all knowledge, if it be thoroughly studied, its statements examined and criticized, and the thoughts it suggests followed by independent thinking, it will yield more profit than twenty books of equal value, read in a casual and careless manner. Whatever is worth perusal at all, is worth the honest and patient labor necessary to its clear understanding.

The possible value of a well selected, well used library, even if it be small, is only appreciated by a few people. Let its first books be standard, and contain the fundamentals of general knowledge. As it grows beyond this, let it minister to refined taste, elevated thought, valuable information, and a chastened imagination. Then let it be properly used. Enter it as if coming into the presence of the wisest and best men of all ages, in the moments of their supreme greatness and thoughtfulness. Let the family often spend evenings together here. Let some one read aloud and the others listen, criticise and discuss what is brought before them. In this way the whole world and all the ages may be brought together into quiet, unpretentious homes, and the library be the centre of happiness, wisdom and refinement.

Charly N. Simg.

CHARACTER BUILDING; MENTAL AND MORAL.

BY

WM. A. OBENCHAIN.

"The great hope of society is individual character."-Channing.

HE world acknowledges two

lords: character and genius, or, to give

the word a broader meaning, character and intellect.

Character may be and should be a common possession; genius is occasional and rare. Character must be acquired; genius is innate. Character is a plain, everyday fact; genius a mystery, like the wind, whose sound we hear, but can not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth. Character is the foundation of the social structure; genius is non-essential and dependent. To obscure character, when its excellencies are pointed out, we give a tardy and discriminating admiration; genuis we worship. Splendidly self-assertive, it triumphs over our ignorance, stupidity and base envy, and compels our homage. The development of character is too seldom insisted upon; the development of intellect is made

the end of existence.

Never was life so full of opportunities for self-culture as it is to-day. Such a thing as undeveloped talent cannot be in this age when science, art and literature, in myriad forms,

are sounding a reveille to every dormant faculty of the soul. Yet it has remained for this busy and cultured generation to ask the question, "Is life worth living?" and to answer it with a scornful negative. Weariness of soul, weariness of flesh, suicide, madness,—these are too often the bitter endings of lives that apparently were filled with all good. Life is not the glorious thing it should be. There is disappointment where there should be content; failure instead of success; anxiety instead of peace; despair instead of faith. Why is it? Alas! we have forgotten, if indeed we ever knew, that the divine secret of peace is in being, not in doing! The parable of the talents is the scriptural lesson most heeded by this restless age, while the command "Be ye perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect" is set aside as impracticable.

I have gathered here a few thoughts from the wisdom of the ages. I have looked into my own life and into the lives of others, and I declare to you, speaking with no human authority, that perfection of character is the true end of life, and the only attainment that can satisfy the soul.

Some one has remarked, that we are not able to say what a thing is so forcibly as by saying what it is not. So, in defining the word character, I say first of all that character is not nature; and a confusion of the two terms will lead to mischievous error. Thus, "Character," says Voltaire, “is what nature has engraven in us; can we then efface it ?"

"Should anyone tell you that a mountain had changed its place, you are at liberty to doubt it," says Mahomet; "but if anyone tells you that a man has changed his character, do not believe it."

These expressions indicate the most dangerous form of that Eastern fatalism which, in a drapery of theological phrase, is a cherished part of many religious creeds, and, in the shape of ready aphorism, is found on the lips of every nation.