musement, once or twice;
but you will find that these have an element of perpetuity in them,
existing in nothing else of their kind: while their peculiar quietness
and repose of manner will also be of the greatest value in teaching you
to feel the same characters in art. Read little at a time, trying to
feel interest in little things, and reading not so much for the sake of
the story as to get acquainted with the pleasant people into whose
company these writers bring you. A common book will often give you much
amusement, but it is only a noble book which will give you dear friends.
Remember also that it is of less importance to you in your earlier
years, that the books you read should be clever, than that they should
be right. I do not mean oppressively or repulsively instructive; but
that the thoughts they express should be just, and the feelings they
excite generous. It is not necessary for you to read the wittiest or the
most suggestive books: it is better, in general, to hear what is already
known, and may be simply said. Much of the literature of the present
day, though good to be read by persons of ripe age, has a tendency to
agitate rather than confirm, and leaves its readers too frequently in a
helpless or hopeless indignation, the worst possible state into which
the mind of youth can be thrown. It may, indeed, become necessary for
you, as you advance in life, to set your hand to things that need to be
altered in the world, or apply your heart chiefly to what must be pitied
in it, or condemned; but, for a young person, the safest temper is one
of reverence, and the safest place one of obscurity. Certainly at
present, and perhaps through all your life, your teachers are wisest
when they make you content in quiet virtue, and that literature and art
are best for you which point out, in common life and familiar things,
the objects for hopeful labour, and for humble love.

FOOTNOTES:

[266] I do not mean necessarily to imply inferiority of rank, in saying
that this second class of painters have questionable qualities. The
greatest men have often many faults, and sometimes their faults are a
part of their greatness; but such men are not, of course, to be looked
upon by the student with absolute implicitness of faith.

[267] Including under this term, John Lewis, and William Hunt of the Old
Water-colour, who, take him all in all, is the best painter of still
life, I believe, that ever existed.

[268] This is especi