My dear boys,--When I was your age, there were no such children's books as there are now.

Those which we had were few and dull, and the pictures in them ugly and mean: while you have your choice of books without number, clear, amusing, and pretty, as well as really instructive, on subjects which were only talked of fifty years ago by a few learned men, and very little understood even by them.

So if mere reading of books would make wise men, you ought to grow up much wiser than us old fellows.
But mere reading of wise books will not make you wise men: you must use for yourselves the tools with which books are made wise; and that is--your eyes, and ears, and common sense.
Now, among those very stupid old-fashioned boys' books was one which taught me that; and therefore I am more grateful to it than if it had been as full of wonderful pictures as all the natural history books you ever saw.

Its name was _Evenings at Home_; and in it was a story called "Eyes and no Eyes;" a regular old-fashioned, prim, sententious story; and it began thus:-- "Well, Robert, where have you been walking this afternoon ?" said Mr.
Andrews to one of his pupils at the close of a holiday.
Oh--Robert had been to Broom Heath, and round by Camp Mount, and home through the meadows.

But it was very dull.