he talks to his friend as well as listens to him and adds in pencil
notes, in the margin or on the back pages of the book, his own
reflections. I take up these books marked with the indications of my
conversation with my friend and in these pencilled memoranda find an
added value. Sometimes the mark emphasizes an agreement between my
friend and me, sometimes it emphasizes a disagreement, and sometimes it
indicates the progress in thought I have made since last we met. A
wisely marked book is sometimes doubled in value by the marking.

Before I bring this essay to a close, already lengthened beyond my
predetermined limits, I venture to add four rules which may be of value
at least to the casual reader.

For reading, select the book which suits your inclination. In study it
is wise to make your will command your mind and go on with your task
however unattractive it may prove to you. You may be a Hamiltonian, and
Jefferson's views of the Constitution may repel you, or even bore you.
No matter. Go on. Scholarship requires persistence in study of matter
that repels or even bores the student. You may be a devout believer and
Herbert Spencer repellent. Nevertheless, if you are studying you may
need to master Herbert Spencer. But if you are reading, read what
interests you. If Scott does not interest you and Dickens does, drop
Scott and read Dickens. You need not be any one's enemy; but you need
not be a friend with everybody. This is as true of books as of persons.
For friendship some agreement in temperament is quite essential.

Henry Ward Beecher's application of this principle struck me as
interesting and unique. He did a great deal of his reading on the train
in his lecture tours. His invariable companion was a black bag and the
black bag always contained some books. As I am writing from