Another very admirable letter, addressed by Mr. Carlyle in 1843 to a young man who had written to him desiring his advice as to a proper choice of reading, and, it would appear also, as to his conduct in general, we shall here bring forth from its hiding-place in an old Scottish newspaper of a quarter of a century ago:—­

“DEAR SIR,

“Some time ago your letter was delivered me; I take literally the first free half-hour I have had since to write you a word of answer.

“It would give me true satisfaction could any advice of mine contribute to forward you in your honourable course of self-improvement, but a long experience has taught me that advice can profit but little; that there is a good reason why advice is so seldom followed; this reason namely, that it is so seldom, and can almost never be, rightly given.  No man knows the state of another; it is always to some more or less imaginary man that the wisest and most honest adviser is speaking.

“As to the books which you—­whom I know so little of—­should read, there is hardly anything definite that can be said.  For one thing, you may be strenuously advised to keep reading.  Any good book, any book that is wiser than yourself, will teach you something—­a great many things, indirectly and directly, if your mind be open to learn.  This old counsel of Johnson’s is also good, and universally applicable:—­’Read the book you do honestly feel a wish and curiosity to read.’  The very wish and curiosity indicates that you, then and there, are the person likely to get good of it.  ’Our wishes are presentiments of our capabilities;’ that is a noble saying, of deep encouragement to all true men; applicable to our wishes and efforts in regard to reading as to other things.  Among all the objects that look wonderful or beautiful to you, follow with fresh hope the one which looks wonderfullest, beautifullest.  You will gradually find, by various trials (which trials see that you make honest, manful ones, not silly, short, fitful ones), what is for you the wonderfullest, beautifullest—­what is your true element and province, and be able to profit by that.  True desire, the monition of nature, is much to be attended to.  But here, also, you are to discriminate carefully between true desire and false.  The medical men tell us we should eat what we truly have an appetite for; but what we only falsely have an appetite for we should resolutely avoid.  It is very true; and flimsy, desultory readers, who fly from foolish book to foolish book, and get good of none, and mischief of all—­are not these as foolish, unhealthy eaters, who mistake their superficial false desire after spiceries and confectioneries for their real appetite, of which even they are not destitute, though it lies far deeper, far quieter, after solid nutritive food?  With these illustrations, I will recommend Johnson’s advice to you.