When the grass is weary of growing, When the planets tire of going, And when Death is sick of feeding, Then shall I be tired of reading.
It may be interesting to young people living in the twentieth century to see a letter advising a course of reading which Mr. Emerson wrote when he was twenty-eight years old to Miss Elizabeth Tucker of Derry, New Hampshire, a young girl "in her teens," who was a cousin of his first wife.
BOSTON, 1 FEB., 1832.
MY DEAR COUSIN,—If it were not true that it is never too late to do right, I should be quite ashamed to send my list of books at such a long distance behind my promise. When I spent so pleasant a day at your house, I thought it would be very easy, and I knew it would be very pleasant, for me to make out a scheme of study for your vacation as soon as I got home. But what to select out of so great a company of leather-jackets and so deserving—and then a crowd of things to be done—and withal a Quaker habit of never doing things till their necessary time, in the hope of doing them better, has postponed my letter from day to day and week to week. But so you must never do, my dear Cousin. But for fear you should quite forget your wise adviser, and should be a grown lady and so I should lose the honor of having had any part in your education, I hasten to send you my poor thoughts upon what is good to be read. I make no pretensions to give you a complete course, but only select a few good books of my acquaintance—such as I think you will like, and such as will serve you.
One more preliminary word. Never mind any silly people that try to sneer you out of the love of reading. People are
