MR. SLOW ON GRAVE TOPICS.
“'BIMELECH, my son,” said Mr. Slow, shaking his
head with oracular and owl-like profundity, “it isn't
well to know too much, my boy; your father never did—
he know'd too much for that. Thoughts is perplexin',
and the human mind, 'Bimelech, is too precious a thing
to be wore out with too much friction. Don't abuse the
gifts of nater, my son, 'cause nater's one of 'em, she is.
Don't inwestigate anything new, my boy, 'cause there's
a thousand old things of more consekence to look arter—
the first of which is number one. New notions perplexes
the mind, dear—there's full enough fools in the world
who like to look arter sich things, without your troublin'
your precious head about 'em—'t wouldn't be a cent of
benefit to you. Call 'em all humbug and moonshine,
and them as believes 'em lunatics and scoundrels, and
that 'll save you a good many discussions, and give you
a character for dignity and prudence; and prudent folks
make money. Phelosophy and scions, and them things,
is humbugs, and everything is humbug but money. Mind,
I tell ye.” Mr. Slow ceased, overcome by his own eloquence.
