to detect them or to classify them
in order of importance. Not only is this true of the aggregate, but it
is true of the individual. It is doubtful if any person in middle life
can tell just what he is or just how he became himself. He is aware of
some great influences that have exerted their power over him at certain
crises in his life, but the little things which, taken together, have
done more to form and fix his character are often unrecognized or
undervalued. Fortunately, at this time we need to give attention to only
one phase of the great question.

Character is the one important thing. Great as is the value of book
education, of practical power and of good health, still greater is the
importance of sound, wholesome character; and, consciously or
unconsciously, intentionally or unintentionally, the teacher and the
parent are incessantly at work building the characters of the young
people placed in their charge. Most of us, too, are working toward right
ends as conscientiously as possible. Yet often we grow faint-hearted, or
are puzzled to know what we can do to help the children and how we can
do it most effectively.

That the influence of reading on character is one of the most powerful
is granted by every high-minded person who has written or spoken upon
the subject. Really, it is not an influence, but a series of influences,
wide, complex, far-reaching. The extended range of subjects, the
infinite variety in style, the unlimited shades in sentiment to be found
in literature make its presence influential everywhere and always. In
reading there is comfort for the sorrowing, companionship for the
lonely, encouragement for the downcast, entertainment for the leisurely,
inspiration for the sluggish. Gentle, pervasive, almost unnoticed, yet
stronger than iron bands, is the power of literature over us. We are
what we read.

If such be the case, then there need be no argument concerning the
importance of suitable reading matter for the young. To leave a child
wholly to his own inclinations in reading is as absurd as to send him to
take honey from a swarm of angry bees and not expect him to be stung.
Inevitably, he will be injured, and that seriously. To supply him with
honey, all that he wants, at all times and without exertion to himself,
is to clog his taste and destroy his appetite. We must see that he is
led to look for the sweet, taught to recognize it when he finds it, and
to extract it from the comb. He wil