The habit of reading is one
of the greatest resources of mankind; and we enjoy reading books that belong to
us much more than if they are borrowed. A borrowed book is like a guest in the
house; it must be treated with punctiliousness, with a certain
considerate formality. You must see that it sustains no damage; it must not
suffer while under your roof. You cannot leave it carelessly, you cannot mark
it, you cannot turn down the pages, you cannot use it familiarly.
And then, some day, although this is seldom done, you really ought to return
it.
But your own books belong to
you; you treat them with that affectionate intimacy that annihilates
formality. Books are for use, not for show; you should own no book that you are
afraid to mark up, or afraid to place on the table, wide open and face down. A
good reason for marking favorite passages in books is that this practice
enables you to remember more easily the significant sayings, to refer to them
quickly, and then in later years, it is like visiting a forest where you once
blazed a trail. You have the pleasure of going over the old ground, and
recalling both the intellectual scenery and your own earlier self.
Everyone should begin
collecting a private library in youth; the instinct of private property, which
is fundamental in human beings, can here be cultivated with every advantage and
no evils. One should have one's own bookshelves, which should not have doors,
glass windows, or keys; they should be free and accessible to the hand as well
as to the eye. The best of mural decorations is books; they are
more varied in color and appearance than any wallpaper, they are more
attractive in design, and they have the prime advantage of being separate
personalities, so that if you sit alone in the room in the firelight, you are
surrounded with intimate friends. The knowledge that they are there in plain
view is both stimulating and refreshing. You do not have to read them all. Most
of my indoor life is spent in a room containing six thousand books; and I have
a stock answer to the invariable question that comes from
strangers. "Have you read all of these books?"
"Some of them twice." This reply is
both true and unexpected.
There
are of course no friends like living, breathing, corporeal men
and women; my devotion to reading has never made me a recluse.
How could it? Books are of the people, by the people, for the people.
Literature is the immortal part of history; it is the best and
most enduring part of personality. But book-friends have this advantage over
living friends; you can enjoy the most truly aristocratic society
in the world whenever you want it. The great dead are beyond our physical
reach, and the great living are usually almost as inaccessible;
as for our personal friends and acquaintances, we cannot always
see them. Perchance they are asleep, or away on a journey. But in a private
library, you can at any moment converse with Socrates
or Shakespeare
or Carlyle
or Dumas
or Dickens
or Shaw
or Barrie
or Galsworthy.
And there is no doubt that
in these books you see these men at their best. They wrote for you. They
"laid themselves out," they did their ultimate best to entertain you,
to make a favorable impression. You are necessary to them as an audience is to
an actor; only instead of seeing them masked, you look into their innermost
heart of heart.
This
famous William Lyon Phelps' Speech – “The Pleasure Of Books” is a great example
of a clear address, oration and dialogue using excellent text to persuade and
inspire the audience. “The Pleasure Of Books” is famed for its great powers of
verbal communication, making good use of the words and language to illustrate
the subject. Whether this address can be described in the category of powerful,
persuasive, motivational or inspirational the excellent powers of oration which
are used make it one of the most famous speeches from a great speaker.
OOW
2011
No comments:
Post a Comment