s life. But I was not sufficiently
conscious of the infinitude of truth, or of the narrow limits of my
powers, or of the infinite mysteries of which humanity and the universe
are full. And my desire for knowledge was infinite, and my appetite was
very keen, and I was so desirous to be right on every subject bearing on
the religion of Christ, and on the great interests of mankind, that
nothing that I could do seemed too much if it seemed likely to help me
in the attainment of my object.

Then I had no considerate and enlightened guide; no friend, no
colleague, with a father's heart, to direct me in my studies or my
choice of books. There was one minister in the Body to which I belonged
that might have given me good counsel, if he had been at hand, but he
and I were never stationed in the same neighborhood. And he had suffered
so much on account of his superior intelligence and liberal tendencies,
that he might have felt unwilling to advise me freely. The preachers
generally could not understand me, and they had no sympathy with my
eager longings for religious knowledge. They could not comprehend what
in the world I could want beyond their own old stereotyped notions and
phrases, and the comfortable provision made for the supply of my
temporal wants. Why could I not check my thinking, enjoy my popularity,
and rejoice in the success of my labors? And when I could not take their
flippant counsels, they had nothing left but hints at unpleasant
consequences. There was nothing for me therefore, but to follow the
promptings of my own insatiate soul, and travel on alone in the fear of
God, hoping that things would get better, and my prospects grow brighter
by and by.

So I moved on in my own track, still digging for truth as for silver,
and searching for it as for hidden treasure. And I worked unceasingly,
and with all my might. I lost no time. I hated pleasure parties, and all
kinds of amusements. My work was my amusement. I hated company, unless
the subject of conversation could be religion, or something pertaining
to it. When obliged to go out and take dinner, or tea, or supper, I
always took a book or two with me, and if the company were not inclined
to spend the time in useful conversation, I would slip away into some
quiet room, or take a walk, and spend my time in reading. I always read
on my walks and on my journeys, if the weather was fair, and on some
occasions when it was not fair. My mind was always on the stretch.