t a moment, and then said slowly, "Well, what kind of
books do you want--religious books, for instance?"

"No," said the girl, "I do not know as I wish to read about religion. I
get that in the church and the Sunday School. But there must be some
good books of other kinds--can't you tell me of them?"

"What would you think of a course of reading in history?" asked the
pastor. Her face brightened somewhat, and she answered, "Why, I think
that I might like to read history. What would you recommend for me?"

The minister glanced at his own shelves, thought a moment, and then
said, "Well, I can't all at once name a course on such an important
subject as history. Come next Wednesday, and I'll have a list of good
books for you."

She came, and he showed her a formidable catalogue of books, saying:

"I have done the best that I could do, but the list is longer than I had
expected. It includes eighty volumes. I wrote down one hundred and
twenty volumes at first, but cut it down to eighty, and it cannot be
made shorter, not by a single volume. In fact, it is not as complete as
it should be. You will begin with the greatest book of history in all
literature--Gibbon's _Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_, in nine
volumes!"

The young lady was appalled, and never went through the first chapter of
Gibbon's mighty work. This was before the Chautauqua Home Reading Course
was evolved. After that had been launched any intelligent minister, or
helpful librarian, would simply have said to the enquirer, "Send for a
circular of the C. L. S. C.; that will give you exactly what you need."

[Illustration: Pioneer Hall: Class of 1882. C. L. S. C.]

[Illustration: Old College Building]

There comes to my own mind a vivid remembrance of that evening when for
the first time I heard those magic words--"The Chautauqua Literary and
Scientific Circle." In the early spring of 1878, Dr. Vincent had just
returned from an official visit to Europe, and I was no longer at
Plainfield, five minutes' walk from his home, but by the revolution of
the itinerant wheel a pastor, thirty miles distant. A message came
asking me to spend an evening with him and talk over some new plans for
Chautauqua. Of course, I obeyed the call, for I always gained more than
I gave in any conversation with that fruitful mind. We sat in front of
the fireplace in his study, and I listened while for an hour he talked
of a new organization which he proposed to launch in the co