what pathetically from the shelves, like
aged dogs wondering why no one takes them for a walk. Monuments of
pathetic labour, tasks patiently fulfilled through slow hours! But yet
I am sure that a great deal of joy went to the making of them, the joy
of the old scholar who settled down soberly among his papers, and heard
the silvery bell above him tell out the dear hours that, perhaps, he
would have delayed if he could. Yes, the old books are a tender-hearted
and a joyful company; the days slip past, the sunlight moves round the
court, and steals warmly for an hour or two into the deserted room.
Life--delightful life--spins merrily past; the perennial stream of
youth flows on; and perhaps the best that the old books can do for us
is to bid us cast back a wistful and loving thought into the past--a
little gift of love for the old labourers who wrote so diligently in
the forgotten hours, till the weary, failing hand laid down the
familiar pen, and soon lay silent in the dust.

IV

SOCIABILITIES

I have a friend here, an old friend, who, in refreshing contrast with
the majority of the human race, possesses strongly marked
characteristics. He knows exactly the sort of life that suits him, and
exactly what he likes. He is not, as Mr. Enfield said, one of the
fellows who go about doing what is called "good." But he contrives to
give a great deal of happiness without having any programme. He is, in
the first place, a savant with a great reputation; but he makes no
parade of his work, and sits down to it because he likes it, as a
hungry man may sit down to a pleasant meal. He is thus the most
leisurely man that I know, while, at the same time, his output is
amazing. His table is covered deep with books and papers; but he will
work at a corner, if he is fortunate enough to find one; and, if not,
he will make a kind of cutting in the mass, and work in the shade, with
steep banks of stratified papers on either hand. He is always
accessible, always ready to help any one. The undergraduate, that shy
bird in whose sight the net is so often spread in vain, even though it
be baited with the priceless privilege of tea, tobacco, and the talk of
a well-informed man, comes, in troops and companies, to see him. He is
a man too with a deep vein of humour, and, what is far more rare, a
keen vein of appreciation of the humour of others. He laughs as if he
were amused, not like a man discharging a painful duty. It is true that
he wil