boy of nine years old, who had never been
taught elocution by any reading master, read simple pathetic passages,
and natural dialogues in "Evenings at Home," in a manner which would
have made even Sterne's critic forget his stop-watch.

By reading much at a time, it is true that a great number of books
are run through in a few years; but this is not at all our object; on
the contrary, our greatest difficulty has been to find a sufficient
number of books fit for children to read. If they early acquire a
strong taste for literature, no matter how few authors they may have
perused. We have often heard young people exclaim, "I'm glad I have
not read such a book--I have a great pleasure to come!"--Is not this
better than to see a child yawn over a work, and count the number of
tiresome pages, whilst he says, "I shall have got through this book by
and by; and what must I read when I have done this? I believe I never
shall have read all I am to read! What a number of tiresome books
there are in the world! I wonder what can be the reason that I must
read them all! If I were but allowed to skip the pages that I don't
understand, I should be much happier, for when I come to any thing
entertaining in a book, I can keep myself awake, and then I like
reading as well as any body does."

Far from forbidding to skip the incomprehensible pages, or to close
the tiresome volume, we should exhort our pupils never to read one
single page that tires, or that they do not fully understand. We need
not fear, that, because an excellent book is not interesting at one
period of education, it should not become interesting at another; the
child is always the best judge of what is suited to his present
capacity. If he says, "Such a book tires me," the preceptor should
never answer with a forbidding, reproachful look, "I am surprised at
that, it is no great proof of your taste; the book, which you say
tires you, is written by one of the best authors in the English
language." The boy is sorry for it, but he cannot help it; and he
concludes, if he be of a timid temper, that he has no taste for
literature, since the best authors in the English language tire him.
It is in vain to tell him, that the book is "universally allowed to be
very entertaining."

"If it be not such to me,
What care I how fine it be!"

The more encouraging and more judicious parent would answer upon a
similar occasion, "You are very right not to read what tires you, my