works of fiction are but few, indeed, which possess such a soul of genius and such a body of truth, as to render them worthy of perusal, reprint, or preservation. And when we consider the morale of many of those works which teem around us, those dishes of scepticism, horrors, and licentiousness, served up with the piquant sauce of a Parisian or an English style, we can hardly wonder that there are some who condemn all fictitious writings in the mass. And while these considerations should teach us the most delicate discrimination, let us also feel that an entire devotion to novel-reading is as deleterious as it is frivolous. There are some, I fear, who, neglecting all substantial study, pore only over stories. And what a training of the mind is this! For what are they preparing it, when it is wholly engaged upon scenes and plots, and only familiar with the men and women of fiction? me tell them that they are poorly armed for the realities of life, for reverses of fortune, and stern calls of duty. Their minds are becom

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ing lax and feeble, enriched by no acquisitions of real knowledge, and unfitted for the tension of thought. And if their hearts are uncorrupted, this exemption is the only benefit they owe to superficial reading.

I pass from this subject to say, that while we have had occasion to deplore the character of so many works, which have leaped from the press like the frogs of Egypt, swarming in our streets and houses, our kitchens and bed-chambers, we have also occasion to rejoice at those recent enterprises which are now furnishing us with some of the best books in the English language. There is hardly an excuse, then, except that of extreme poverty, unremitted toil, or sickness, for the young woman who is not possessed of that accomplishment which depends upon general though well-chosen reading. For I am not recommending excessive reading. There are book-gluttons, whose only quality is the power of devouring. Stored to repletion with the contents of countless volumes, they are often quite leaden as to expres

sion. Or else they are mere encyclopedias, from whom you can get any fact upon any subject; but those facts are packed up in their minds as dry items; they have been preserved, not planted there. They have not entered into and enriched the mental soil of the reader, and become portions of himself; they have no congruity or assimilation. Reading, even as an accomplishment, should be discriminate, and interspersed with reflection; else it is no accomplishment.

With these remarks, then, I urge upon you this pursuit. I will not stop to recount its advantages, its uses. The influence which it will give you, the new modes of power which it will confer, the occasions in which it will prove inestimable, I leave to your own reflections. It imparts to you the skill that distinguishes the mere scholar from the ready speaker and the good writer. It is as if, in addition to the substantial materiel of knowledge, you should make yourselves "coverings of tapestry," and "clothing of silk and purple."

II. Another accomplishment is the power of ready and appropriate conversation. There are few who can talk well; who speak with exact pronunciation, grammatical correctness and purity of diction, and with adaptedness and amenity. And yet what a privilege has God bestowed upon us in the faculty of speech; what powers are comprised in this universal gift! What influence is there in books compared with the magic of the eloquent tongue? What beauty of face equals the charm of the earnest spirit breaking out in words? How does the loveliness which we drink in from nature, how do the acquisitions of silent thought, lie inefficient within us, until we can speak of them to another, and receive confirmation of them from his speech! And what are all other earthly communions to vocal communion, face to face, with our kind? In the beautiful language of another - -"How large a portion of life does it [conversation] fill up! How innumerable are its ministries and its uses! It is the most refined species of recreation - the most

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sparkling source of merriment. It interweaves with a never-resting shuttle the bonds of domestic sympathy. It fastens the ties of friendship, and runs along the golden links of the chain of love. It enriches charity, and makes the gift twice blessed."*

It is evident that I can say but little, in proportion to what might be said, of a faculty which is so varied in its uses, and which employs so much of our action. I shall confine myself to a very few hints. I am speaking now of conversation as an accomplishment, and not as an essential agent of communication; and I would say, in the first place, study adaptedness of speech. Learn when to speak, what to speak, and how much to speak. There are few of the minor evils of life more disagreeable than remarks out of season. "A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver," says the wise man; but he adds, "As he that

* Rev. A. P. Peabody, whose tract upon "Conversation" I would earnestly recommend to the reader.