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books to which the inquirer may be directed。 But the worst of it is
that each student is in need of a little library specially adapted to
his wants。 Here is a young man writing to me from a Western college；
and wants me to send him a list of the books which I think would be
most useful to him。 He does not send me his intellectual
measurements； and he might as well have sent to a Boston tailor for a
coat； without any hint of his dimensions in length； breadth； and
thickness。
But instead of laying down rules for reading； and furnishing lists of
the books which should be read in order； I will undertake the much
humbler task of giving a little quasi…medical advice to persons；
young or old； suffering from book…hunger； book…surfeit； book…
nervousness； book…indigestion； book…nausea； and all other maladies
which； directly or indirectly； may be traced to books； and to which I
could give Greek or Latin names if I thought it worth while。
I have a picture hanging in my library； a lithograph； of which many
of my readers may have seen copies。 It represents a gray…haired old
book…lover at the top of a long flight of steps。 He finds himself in
clover； so to speak； among rare old editions； books he has longed to
look upon and never seen before； rarities； precious old volumes；
incunabula； cradle…books； printed while the art was in its infancy；
its glorious infancy； for it was born a giant。 The old bookworm is
so intoxicated with the sight and handling of the priceless treasures
that he cannot bear to put one of the volumes back after he has taken
it from the shelf。 So there he stands；one book open in his hands；
a volume under each arm； and one or more between his legs；loaded
with as many as he can possibly hold at the same time。
Now； that is just the way in which the extreme form of book…hunger
shows itself in the reader whose appetite has become over…developed。
He wants to read so many books that he over…crams himself with the
crude materials of knowledge； which become knowledge only when the
mental digestion has time to assimilate them。 I never can go into
that famous 〃Corner Bookstore〃 and look over the new books in the row
before me； as I enter the door； without seeing half a dozen which I
want to read； or at least to know something about。 I cannot empty my
purse of its contents； and crowd my bookshelves with all those
volumes。 The titles of many of them interest me。 I look into one or
two； perhaps。 I have sometimes picked up a line or a sentence； in
these momentary glances between the uncut leaves of a new book； which
I have never forgotten。 As a trivial but bona fide example； one day
I opened a book on duelling。 I remember only these words：
〃Conservons…la； cette noble institution。〃 I had never before seen
duelling called a noble institution； and I wish I had taken the name
of the book。 Book…tasting is not necessarily profitless； but it is
very stimulating； and makes one hungry for more than he needs for the
nourishment of his thinking…marrow。 To feed this insatiable hunger；
the abstracts； the reviews； do their best。 But these； again； have
grown so numerous and so crowded with matter that it is hard to find
time to master their contents。 We are accustomed； therefore； to look
for analyses of these periodicals； and at last we have placed before
us a formidable…looking monthly； 〃The Review of Reviews。〃 After the
analyses comes the newspaper notice； and there is still room for the
epigram； which sometimes makes short work with all that has gone
before on the same subject。
It is just as well to recognize the fact that if one should read day
and night； confining himself to his own language； he could not
pretend to keep up with the press。 He might as well try to race with
a locomotive。 The first discipline； therefore； is that of despair。
If you could stick to your reading day and night for fifty years；
what a learned idiot you would become long before the half…century
was over！ Well； then； there is no use in gorging one's self with
knowledge； and no need of self…reproach because one is content to
remain more or less ignorant of many things which interest his
fellow…creatures。 We gain a good deal of knowledge through the
atmosphere； we learn a great deal by accidental hearsay； provided we
have the mordant in our own consciousness which makes the wise
remark； the significant fact； the instructive incident； take hold
upon it。 After the stage of despair comes the period of consolation。
We soon find that we are not so much worse off than most of our
neighbors as we supposed。 The fractional value of the wisest shows a
small numerator divided by an infinite denominator of knowledge。
I made some explanations to The Teacups； the other evening； which
they received very intelligently and graciously； as I have no doubt
the readers of these reports of mine will receive them。 If the
reader will turn back to the end of the fourth number of these
papers； he will find certain lines entitled； 〃Cacoethes Scribendi。〃
They were said to have been taken from the usual receptacle of the
verses which are contributed by The Teacups； and； though the fact was
not mentioned； were of my own composition。 I found them in
manuscript in my drawer； and as my subject had naturally suggested
the train of thought they carried out into extravagance； I printed
them。 At the same time they sounded very natural； as we say； and I
felt as if I had published them somewhere or other before； but I
could find no evidence of it； and so I ventured to have them put in
type。
And here I wish to take breath for a short； separate paragraph。 I
have often felt； after writing a line which pleased me more than
common； that it was not new； and perhaps was not my own。 I have very
rarely； however； found such a coincidence in ideas or expression as
would be enough to justify an accusation of unconscious plagiarism；
conscious plagiarism is not my particular failing。 I therefore say
my say； set down my thought； print my line； and do not heed the
suspicion that I may not be as original as I supposed； in the passage
I have been writing。 My experience may be worth something to a
modest young writer； and so I have interrupted what I was about to
say by intercalating this paragraph。
In this instance my telltale suspicion had not been at fault。 I had
printed those same lines； years ago； in 〃The Contributors' Club；〃 to
which I have rarely sent any of my prose or verse。 Nobody but the
editor has noticed the fact； so far as I know。 This is consoling； or
mortifying； I hardly know which。 I suppose one has a right to
plagiarize from himself； but he does not want to present his work as
fresh from the workshop when it has been long standing in his
neighbor's shop…window。
But I have just received a letter from a brother of the late Henry
Howard Brownell； the poet of the Bay Fight and the River Fight； in
which he quotes a passage from an old book； 〃A Heroine； Adventures of
Cherubina；〃 which might well have suggested my own lines； if I had
ever seen it。 I have not the slightest recollection of the book or
the passage。 I think its liveliness and 〃local color〃 will make it
please the reader； as it pleases me； more than my own more prosaic
extravagances：
LINES TO A PRETTY LITTLE MAID OF MAMMA'S。
〃If Black Sea； Red Sea； White Sea； ran
One tide of ink to Ispahan；
If all the geese in Lincoln fens
Produced spontaneous well…made pens；
If Holland old and Holland new
One wondrous sheet of paper grew；
And could I sing but half the grace
Of half a freckle in thy face；
Each syllable I wrote would reach
》From Inverness to Bognor's beach；
Each hair…stroke be a river Rhine；
Each verse an equinoctial line！〃
〃The immediate dismissal of the 'little maid' was the consequence。〃
I may as well say that our Delilah was not in the room when the last
sentence was read。
Readers must be either very good…natured or very careless。 I have
laid myself open to criticism by more than one piece of negligence；
which has been passed over without invidious comment by the readers
of my papers。 How could I； for instance； have written in my original
〃copy〃 for the printer about the fisherman baiting his hook with a
giant's tail instead of a dragon's？ It is the automatic fellow；Me…
Number…Two of our dual personality；who does these things； who
forgets the message MeNumberOne sends down to him from the
cerebral convolutions； and substitutes a wrong word for the right
one。 I suppose MeNumberTwo will 〃sass back；〃 and swear that
〃giant's〃 was the message which came down from headquarters。 He is
always doing the wrong thing and excusing himself。 Who blows out the
gas instead of shutting it off？ Who puts the key in the desk and
fastens it tight with the spring lock？ Do you mean to say that the
upper Me； the Me of the true thinking…marrow； the convolutions of the