may To do whate'er we Albany, July, 1902. Cupler Reynolds, hat. Bit 6-10-25 11950 INTRODUCTION IT has been said that a good wine needs no bush," and it may be as truly asserted that a good book requires no introduction. But it is recorded that the Bard of Avon did make fair Rosalind say, after her scene with fond friends in the Forest of Arden, "Yet to good wine they do use good bushes," which would seem that an introduction be proper if it be but good. To pen the foreword places one in the position of the bashful Rosalind, for "what a case am I in then,” being neither a good introducer, nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of " a good book. Undoubtedly, in the days of Shakespeare, as now, it was known widely that a taste of certain liquors concocted with perspicuity prepares one's inner man the better for things to come than had the cork been allowed to remain cobwebbed to the bottle; so for an equally long time it has been thought mete that a good book, like the good dinner, receive encouragement afore it. Some persons compose their meal of a staple course, one that is substantial for the body's need, yet at times, dining with their friends, enjoy with relish the dinner whose chief ambition is of numerous courses. They remind one of those who for a season find staple reading in a novel; but turn at times to those works wherein appear the mixture of many talents, and in the change find relish and enjoyment. Everyone knows that some dinners but prove to be time elaborately thrown away, but this cannot be said of that book which permits a feast in which many authors furnish parts. The feasting which the mind partakes of in this case is such as to strengthen one for better personal endeavour. It takes him away from self so completely, by reason of the brilliancy, that the mind assumes a status in a degree like that of the one who wrote; as one lady at a feast will imbibe ideas to serve her in good stead when she next time becomes the hostess. Note the meal of the busy man of professional trade in the great cities, and it would seem that he hopes for the day when he may wash down his pellet of substantial meal, to be the sooner again about his business. To such a man the restaurant that can furnish him with a meal for endurance in the smallest form is the one that he likes, while the writer or compiler does the most who puts before his reader the most wisdom and demands of him the least time. As one sagaciously spurns poorly or half-cooked food, so we should lay aside those writings of weak minds whose ill-conceived thoughts have found too hasty expression. If we demand that the food which we place within our bodies be wholesome, how much more so should we desire that what we allow to enter the mind be wholesouled. Even the babe makes choice of food that pleases; so should the mind of the youth make early discernment of that sort of literature that it considers better than some other, only let it be a fancy born of sound reason. Who has not found it so, that the cookie abstracted from the pantry by the youth is far sweeter than any bought by affluence, and a compiler must stand in the same position towards his production, for Alexander Pope recognised and remarked: "O'er his books his eyes began to roll in pleasing memory of all he stole." : He who cannot relish the best sayings of the greatest writers, is like the dyspeptic at the banquet-hall he has all that is good set before him, yet is unable to appreciate. A clever compiler is a good chef: he not only knows what to select, but in what order to present it. The literary reader should greet with as much delight a book of cleverly chosen quotations as the tired and hungry man feels, who finds a good hostelry, whose menu is of such length and merit that he knows he may there find what he desires. If we are capable of appreciating a well-served dinner, how much more should a person of thought appreciate a book of wise sayings when one thinks how much greater was the effort and how much more of thought was given to their preparation |