224 Hills and Lakes. 



workin' his mind, bring pain, and disease, and weak- 

 ness iipon himself, and make himself old before his 

 time. What if he gathers all the wisdom of the world, 

 all the knowledge that human nater can attain to ? It 

 ain't much, at best, and the mountain he's tryin' to 

 climb grows steeper and higher, as he goes up. He 

 may climb and climb, till his eyes grow dim, and his 

 head gets dizzy, but the top is further off than it was 

 when he started. He may look back on the path by 

 which he has ascended, and there's a thousand things 

 to be studied out, that he overlooked as he came 

 along. He goes deeper and deeper into the mist, and 

 he learns at last, that the eye of man can't look into 

 the thick darkness that nater has rapt round her. He 

 finds out, in the end, that man's wisdom is at best 

 foohshness, and what he thinks he has studied out, he 

 ain't always sure that he knows. And then, Squire, 

 what good does it do him, as a general thing, to roll 

 up such a great heap of knowledge? It don't make 

 him any more contented or happy. I am talkin' now 

 about the man that sits up nights, study in' and 

 cypherin' out things, and wearin' out his body in 

 tryin' to look into and understand all the hidden 

 things of nater. He don't eat well, nor he don't relish 



