f the earth, Nort had responded eagerly:

"Why, sure! I'll take em. Got any more where those come from?"

Nort's was an eager, curious, ardent, insatiable nature, which should
have been held back rather than stimulated. No sooner had he stepped out
into life than he wanted it all--everything that he could see, or hear,
or smell, or taste, or touch--and all at once. I do not mean by this
that Nort was a vicious or abandoned character beyond the pale of his
humankind. He had, indeed, done things that were wrong, that he knew
were wrong, but thus far they had been tentative, experimental,
springing not from any deeply vicious instincts but expressing, rather,
his ardent curiosity about life.

I think sometimes that our common definition of dissipation is far too
narrow. We confine it to crude excesses in the use of intoxicating
liquor or the crude gratification of the passions; but often these are
only the outward symbols of a more subtle inward disorder. The things of
the world--a thousand clamouring interests, desires, possessions--have
got the better of us. Men become drunken with the inordinate desire for
owning things, and dissolute with ambition for political office. I knew
a man once, a farmer, esteemed an upright man in our community, who
debauched himself upon land; fed his appetite upon the happiness of his
home, cheated his children of education, and himself went shabby,
bookless, joyless, comfortless, that he might buy more land. I call that
dissipation, too!

And in youth, when all the earth is very beautiful, when our powers
seem as limitless as our desires (I know, I know!), we stand like
Samson, and for the sheer joy of testing our strength pull down the
pillars of the temple of the world.

In Nort's case a supply of unearned money had enormously increased his
power of seeing, hearing, feeling, doing; everything opened wide to the
magic touch of the wand of youth, enthusiasm, money. He could neither
live fast enough nor enjoy too much.

He had, indeed, had periods of sharp reaction. This was not the first
time that the kingdoms of the earth, too easily possessed, had palled
upon him, and he had resolved to escape. But he had never yet been quite
strong enough; he had never gone quite low enough. The lure of that
which was exciting or amusing or beautiful, above all, that which was or
pretended to be friendly or companionable, had always proved too strong
for him.

As time passed, and his naturally v