eatest writers would one day be mortified to observe that his best
thoughts are their indifferent ones, and it is from the great books that
have stood the test of time that we shall get, not only the most lasting
pleasure, but a standard by which to measure our own thoughts, the
thoughts of others, and the excellence of the literature of our own day.
Some years ago, when I was Secretary for Foreign Affairs in England,
when holidays were often long in coming, short and precious when they
did come, when work was hard and exhausting and disagreeable, I found
it a good plan when I got home to my library in the country to have
three books on hand for recreation. One of them used to be one of those
great books of all time dealing with great events or great thoughts of
past generations. I mention Gibbon's "Decline and Fall of the Roman
Empire" as an instance of one such book, which had an atmosphere of
greatness into which one passed right out of the worries of party
politics and official work. Such books take one away to another world
where one finds not only pleasure, but rest. "I like large still books,"
Tennyson is reported to have said. And great books not only give
pleasure and rest, but better perspective of the events of our own time.
I must warn you that Gibbon has been called dull. It is alleged that
Sheridan, a man of brilliant wit, said so, and when a friend reminded
him that in a famous speech he had paid Gibbon the compliment of
speaking of the "luminous page of Gibbon," Sheridan said he must have
meant to say "voluminous." If you take the same view of Gibbon, find
some other great author whom you do not find dull. There is a host of
great writers to choose from. There are plenty of signposts to direct us
to old books of interest and value. They have well-known names, and so
they stand out and are known like great peaks in mountain ranges of the
human intellect.

The second of my books would also be an old book, a novel which had been
approved by successive generations. The third would be some modern book,
whether serious or light, and in modern books the choice is not so easy.
There are many that are excellent, but there are many in which we may
find neither pleasure nor profit. If our leisure is short we have not
much time to experiment. The less spare time we have, the more precious
it is, and we do not want to waste any of it in experimenting with
modern books which we do not find profitable. It is worth while