"But such marks, in your case, are not visible. That you have not
always found the pleasure anticipated--that you have looked
restlessly away from the present, longing for some other good than
that laid by the hand of a benignant Providence at your feet, I can
well believe; for this is my own history, as well as yours: it is
the history of all mankind."

"Now you strike the true chord, Mr. Allison. Now you state the
problem I have not skill to solve. Why is this?"

"Ah! if the world had skill to solve that problem," said the
neighbour, "it would be a wiser and happier world; but only to a few
is this given."

"What is the solution? Can you declare it?"

"I fear you would not believe the answer a true one. There is
nothing in it flattering to human nature; nothing that seems to give
the weary, selfish heart a pillow to rest upon. In most cases it has
a mocking sound."

"You have taught me more than one life-lesson, Mr. Allison. Speak
freely now. I will listen patiently, earnestly, looking for
instruction. Why are we so restless and dissatisfied in the present,
even though all of earthly good surrounds us, and ever looking far
away into the uncertain future for the good that never comes, or
that loses its brightest charms in possession?"

"Because," said the old man, speaking slowly, and with emphasis, "we
are mere self-seekers."