(2) Very ready we are to say of a book, "How good this is--that's
exactly what I think!" But the right feeling is, "How strange that
is! I never thought of that before, and yet I see it is true; or if
I do not now, I hope I shall, some day." But whether thus
submissively or not, at least be sure that you go to the author to
get at HIS meaning, not to find yours. Judge it afterwards if you
think yourself qualified to do so; but ascertain it first. And be
sure, also, if the author is worth anything, that you will not get
at his meaning all at once;--nay, that at his whole meaning you will
not for a long time arrive in any wise. Not that he does not say
what he means, and in strong words too; but he cannot say it all;
and what is more strange, will not, but in a hidden way and in
parables, in order that he may be sure you want it. I cannot quite
see the reason of this, nor analyse that cruel reticence in the
breasts of wise men which makes them always hide their deeper
thought. They do not give it you by way of help, but of reward; and
will make themselves sure that you deserve it before they allow you
to reach it. But it is the same with the physical type of wisdom,
gold. There seems, to you and me, no reason why the electric forces
of the earth should not carry whatever there is of gold within it at
once to the mountain tops, so that kings and people might know that
all the gold they could get was there; and without any trouble of
digging, or anxiety, or chance, or waste of time, cut it away, and
coin as much as they needed. But Nature does not manage it so. She
puts it in little fissures in the earth, nobody knows where: you
may dig long and find none; you must dig painfully to find any.

And it is just the same with men's best wisdom. When you come to a
good book, you must ask yourself, "Am I inclined to work as an