Say what the priests were doing. What was next heard? Who was coming? How did he come? What struggle took place in his heart? Explain "He reck'd not that they saw." What words of sorrow and of self-reproach did Coeur de Lion speak? (Give your own words.) What is to pursue the youth through life?

IT

NOVEL READING.

T is argued in favor of novel reading, that works of fiction of the present day are, in their general character, so correct in principle, so unexceptionable in narrative, sometimes even so high-toned in morality, and, in the case of some particular authors, so finished in style, and so rich in the varied beauties of good composition, that they may be read not only without injury, but actually, under some aspects, with positive advantage. As clever delineations of character, too, they are said to afford so deep an insight into human nature, and so profitable a knowledge of the world and its ways, as to be in those respects a useful study for the inexperienced.

There can be no doubt of the vast improvement of the present period in that description of literary production emphatically called light. We know by hearsay that the romances of former days were not calculated to promote the health either of mind or heart; and that they should have been superseded by fictitious works of a more refining tendency, and a more enlightened character, cannot but be deemed an advantage. Yet, according to all the merit they can possibly claim, and viewing them under their very best and most favorable

aspects, they are in many ways, to say the least, very dangerous.

Novels are in general pictures, usually very highly wrought pictures, of human passions; and it has been remarked, that although the conclusion of the tale frequently awards signal punishment and degradation to some very gross offender, yet that in a far greater number of instances passion is represented as working out its ends successfully, and attaining its object even by the sacrifice of duty-an evil lesson for the heart yet unacquainted with vice, and uncontaminated by the world. It may indeed be safely questioned whether the knowledge of human nature thus acquired is of a profitable kind, and whether experience of life might not, for all practical purposes, be derived from other and purer sources than the teachings of romances.

Again, novels, as a class, present false views of life; and as it is the error of the young to mistake those for realities, they become the dupes of their own ardent and enthusiastic imaginations, which, instead of trying to control and regulate, they strengthen and nourish with the poisonous food of phantoms and chimeras.

When the thirst for novel reading has become insatiable, as with indulgence it is sure to do, they come at last to live in an unreal fairy-land, amid heroes and heroines of their own creation. The taste for serious reading and profitable occupation is destroyed — all relish for prayer is lost. In addition to their other disadvantages, many of these books unfortunately teem with maxims subversive of simple faith, and in cordial irreverence for the truths of religion; and so it too frequently happens, as the climax of evil, that faith suffers to a greater or lesser extent from their habitual, indiscriminate perusal.

As a recreation, light works may, of course, be occasionally resorted to; but so many and so great are their attendant dangers, that extreme care should be taken to neutralize their poison by infallible antidotes. The selection of such works should always be left to a religious parent, to a well-read teacher or a pious and intelligent friend. They should never be made an occupation, but merely serve as a pastime, and that occasionally. They should never be perused in the early part of the day, but only in the evening hour, specially set aside for relaxation. They should never be continued beyond the moderate length of time to which, under prudent and pious direction, you have limited yourself, and never resumed after night prayers.

They should not be allowed to engross the mind te the exclusion of all other thoughts; but more especially during their perusal should the sweet, refreshing, invigorating thought of God's presence be often recalled, and our aspirations ascend to his throne, that he who is the author of all the happiness we enjoy may bless and sanctify even our amusements.

The observance of these conditions no doubt requires some self-control; but if you cannot exercise that control, neither can you expect to peruse works of fiction without material, perhaps fatal injury to your precious soul. If you cannot exercise that control, you should never read novels. If there be one more than another of these conditions to which you are recommended strict fidelity, it is to the first. By referring, for directions in your reading, to a pious, experienced guide, you will be secured against making selections among that class of fictitious works impregnated with the venom of anti-Catholic maxims.

And, as the spirit of impiety and infidelity so prevalent

in the literary world, seeks a medium for its venom no less in works of science than in works of fiction, you will find the advantage of applying the foregoing rule in the one case as in the other, never reading a suspected author without having ascertained how far your doubts are well founded.

COMPOSITION.

"When the thirst

Take the fourth paragraph. Write the portion, for novel reading.... all relish for prayer is lost." Relate what you remember about light reading as seen in lives of SS. Augustin, Theresa, Ignatius-Loyola. Name some of the good books you have read and give a detailed account of one such book or a portion of it. What has his Holiness, Pius IX., said about the power of the Press (newspaper)? Consult the reading lesson on "Studies," and show how you may realize the instructions given as to the manner of reading. Is it advisable for young people to visit public libraries? Give your reasons as fully as possible. What does Rodriguez say in "Christian Perfection" about a "good book"?

And sorrow's cry is seldom heard
But where 'tis little minded.

But thine's a friendly little heart,
And when my own is aching,
Thy mirth can make its griefs depart,
E'en though 'twere almost breaking.

While thoughts of home and fervent friends Are all I've left to cheer me,

Fain wouldst thou make some faint amends By piping wildly near me.

That moral has no charm for me
That's wreath'd in blinding letter:
I'll find in musing here with thee
One easier learn'd and better.

At eve, high perch'd, with rounded breast
And wing wrapp'd in so fairly,
Thou seem'st to bid me seek my rest
While yet the night is early.

When through my window morn hath flung Its first uncertain gleaming,

Notes startling high and loud and long

Dispel my idle dreaming.

If thoughts of care my mind engage,
Thy song reminds me daily,
That e'en within a captive's cage
The heart can flutter gaily.

And if thy time goes all for naught,

And some would thoughtless blame thee, We know that life, whence thou wert brought, Had nothing that could shame thee.