even people whose houses are rich and
whose linen is purple and fine. But occasionally we get glimpses of
it. I suppose you found the latest publications lying all about in
Lapham cottage when you were down there?"

Young Corey laughed. "It wasn't exactly cumbered with them."

"No?"

"To tell the truth, I don't suppose they ever buy books. The young
ladies get novels that they hear talked of out of the circulating
library."

"Had they knowledge enough to be ashamed of their ignorance?"

"Yes, in certain ways--to a certain degree."

"It's a curious thing, this thing we call civilisation," said the elder
musingly. "We think it is an affair of epochs and of nations. It's
really an affair of individuals. One brother will be civilised and the
other a barbarian. I've occasionally met young girls who were so
brutally, insolently, wilfully indifferent to the arts which make
civilisation that they ought to have been clothed in the skins of wild
beasts and gone about barefoot with clubs over their shoulders. Yet
they were of polite origin, and their parents were at least respectful
of the things that these young animals despised."

"I don't think that is exactly the case with the Lapham family," said
the son, smiling. "The father and mother rather apologised about not
getting time to read, and the young ladies by no means scorned it."

"They are quite advanced!"

"They are going to have a library in their Beacon Street house."

"Oh, poor things! How are they ever going to get the books together?"

"Well, sir," said the son, colouring a little, "I have been indirectly
applied to for help."

"You, Tom!" His father dropped back in his chair and laughed.

"I recommended the standard authors," said the son.

"Oh, I never supposed your PRUDENCE would be at fault, Tom!"

"But seriously," said the young man, generously smiling in sympathy
with his father's enjoyment, "they're not unintelligent people. They
are very quick, and they are shrewd and sensible."

"I have no doubt that some of the Sioux are so. But that is not saying
that they are civilised. All civilisation comes through literature
now, especially in our country. A Greek got his civilisation by
talking and looking, and in some measure a Parisian may still do it.
But we, who live remote from history and monuments, we must read or we
must barbarise. Once we were softened, if not polished, by religion;
but I suspect that the pulpit counts for muc