Books are to mankind what memory is to the individual. They contain the history of our race , the discoveries we have made, the accumulated knowledge and experience of ages; they picture for us the marvels and beauties of nature; help us in our difficulties, comfort us in sorrow and in suffering, change hours of weariness into moments of delight, store our minds with ideas, fill them with good and happy thoughts, and liftus out of and above ourselves.

    There is an Oriental story of two men: one was a king, who every night dreamt he was a beggar; the other was a beggar, who every night dreamt he was aprince and lived in a palace. I am not sure that the king had very much the best of it. Imagination is sometimes more vivid than reality. But, however this may be, when we read we may not only (if we wish it) be kings and live in palaces, but, what is far better, we may transport ourselves to the mountains or the seashore, and visit the most beautiful parts of the earth, without fatigue, inconvenience, or expense.

    Many of those who have had, as we say, all that this world can give, have yet told us they owed much of their purest happiness to books. Ascham , in “The Schoolmaster”, tells a touching story of his last visit to Lady Jane Grey . He found her sitting in an oriel window reading Plato's beautiful account of the death of Socrates . Her father and mother were hunting in the park, the hounds were in full cry and their voices came in through the open window. He expressed his surprise that she had not joined them. But, said she, “I wist that all their pleasure in the park is but a shadow to the pleasure I find in Plato.”

    Macaulay had wealth and fame, rank and power, and yet hetells us in his biography that he owed the happiest hours of his life to books. In a charming letter to a little girl, he says:“Thank you for your very pretty letter. I am always glad to make my little girl happy, and nothing pleases me so much as to see that she likes books, for when she is as old as I am, she will find that they are better than all the tarts and cakes, toys and plays, and sights in the world. If any one would make me the greatest king that ever lived, with palaces and gardens and fine dinners, and wines and coaches, and beautiful clothes, and hundreds of servants, on condition that I should not read books. I would not be a king. I would rather be a poor man in a garret with plenty of books than a king who did not love reading.”

    Books, indeed, endow us with a whole enchanted palace of thoughts. There is a wider prospect, says Jean Paul Richer , from Parnassus than from a throne. In one way they give us an even more vivid idea than the actual reality, just as reflections are often more beautiful than real nature. “All mirrors,” says George Macdonald . “The commonest room is a room in a poem when I look in the glass.”

    Precious and priceless are the blessings which the books scatter around our daily paths.We walk, in imagination, with the sublime and enchanting regions.

    Without stirring from our firesides we may roam to the most remote regions of the earth, or soar into realms where Spenser's shapes of unearthly beauty flock to meet us, where Milton's angels peal in our ears the choral hymns of Paradise. Science, art, literature, philosophy, --- all that man has thought, all that man has done, --- the experience that has been bought with the sufferings of a hundred generations, --- all are garnered up for us in the world of books.

    書籍之于人類，猶如記憶之于個人。書籍既可記錄人種之演變，亦可記載人類之發現；既有日積月累之知識，亦不乏世代相傳之經驗；書籍之于人類，可描繪自然之奇跡與美麗，于困難無助之際予以提攜，于悲傷痛苦之時施以撫慰；讓困倦之時刻變為歡樂之時光，讓頭腦充滿豐富之想象，讓心靈布滿美好快樂之思想，恃此而人可走出自我，超越自我。

    有一東方典故，言及二人：一為國王，一為乞丐。國王夜必有惡魘，魘中成乞丐；乞丐晚必做美夢，夢中變王子，居宮殿。國王是否泰然處之，余不敢肯定。想象之于現實或更栩栩然。是否如此，姑且不論，然讀書時，恁可想象自己即為國王，居宮殿；且讀書乃美差之事：既可使人縱情山川，嬉戲海灘，亦可使人遍訪世之美景；既可使人除身心疲憊之慮，亦可使人解囊中羞澀之憂。

    其實，造物恩寵，應有盡有者不少。然多有感于心，曰，其真正之快樂源自書籍。阿斯克姆著有一書，題曰《教師》。書中云及其最后拜訪簡·格雷小姐之故事，甚為感人。書中描寫，格雷小姐坐于飄窗之前，覽讀柏拉圖所寫之精彩文章：《蘇格拉底之死》；然其父母狩獵公園，人喧犬吠，敞窗之內亦可聞見。然阿斯克姆甚為驚奇，狩獵之樂，格雷小姐竟無動于衷，無意與焉。格雷小姐曰，雖然，園中狩獵之樂，較之于柏拉圖書中之樂，不過皮毛耳。

    麥考利既有財富與名望，亦有地位與權力，然其傳記曰，其一生最快樂之時光在于讀書。麥考利嘗書信一封于一女童，曰：“來信收悉，內容精彩，深表感謝。悉知汝喜好讀書，且能樂焉。余倍感欣慰，若到吾今日之年歲，汝定會曉解，較之于餡餅與蛋糕，較之于玩具與游戲，較之于世之名勝風景，讀書之樂遠勝焉。若有人請余當史上最偉大之國王、享宮殿花園之樂，品美味佳肴，駕華車著麗服，差數以百計之奴仆，惟無讀書之條件，余寧可棄做國王，而做窮人，居斗室，享書無數，亦勿做厭書之國王。”

    書籍確能予人以思想宮殿，魔力無比。里希爾特曰，帕納塞斯山較之于御座，視野廣而闊焉。較之于客觀現實，讀書所予于人者，更栩栩然，猶如投影之美，常勝于自然。“凡事必有鏡像，”麥克唐納曰，“鏡中視屋，平常之屋則成詩中之屋。”

    有書則有福，且其貴無價，無時不在，無處莫有。有書，則可馳騁想象，暢游美景圣地。

    即或靜坐爐火之旁，亦可遨游地球之邊際；既可翱翔斯賓塞所繪之王國：仙女婀娜群相迎；亦可暢游彌爾頓所述之天堂：天使娓娓歌樂園。科學、藝術、文學、哲學——人之所思、人之所做——即或以世代痛苦換來之經驗——凡此種種，書海之中，應有盡有，享之不盡。