the universe either what
you were, or are; think how many people are noble, if you cannot be; and
rejoice in _their_ nobleness. An immense quantity of modern confession
of sin, even when honest, is merely a sickly egotism; which will rather
gloat over its own evil, than lose the centralisation of its interest in
itself.

MARY. But then, if we ought to forget ourselves so much, how did the old
Greek proverb 'Know thyself' come to be so highly esteemed?

L. My dear, it is the proverb of proverbs; Apollo's proverb, and the
sun's;--but do you think you can know yourself by looking _into_
yourself? Never. You can know what you are, only by looking _out_ of
yourself. Measure your own powers with those of others; compare your own
interests with those of others; try to understand what you appear to
them, as well as what they appear to you; and judge of yourselves, in
all things, relatively and subordinately; not positively: starting
always with a wholesome conviction of the probability that there is
nothing particular about you. For instance, some of you perhaps think
you can write poetry. Dwell on your own feelings and doings:--and you
will soon think yourselves Tenth Muses; but forget your own feelings;
and try, instead, to understand a line or two of Chaucer or Dante: and
you will soon begin to feel yourselves very foolish girls--which is much
like the fact.

So, something which befalls you may seem a great misfortune;--you
meditate over its effects on you personally; and begin to think that it
is a chastisement, or a warning, or a this or that or the other of
profound significance; and that all the angels in heaven have left their
business for a little while, that they may watch its effects on your
mind. But give up this egotistic indulgence of your fancy; examine a
little what misfortunes, greater a thousandfold, are happening, every
second, to twenty times worthier persons: and your self-consciousness
will change into pity and humility; and you will know yourself, so far
as to understand that 'there hath nothing taken thee but what is common
to man.'

Now, Lucilla, these are the practical conclusions which any person of
sense would arrive at, supposing the texts which relate to the inner
evil of the heart were as many, and as prominent, as they are often
supposed to be by careless readers. But the way in which common people
read their Bibles is just like the way that the old monks thought
hedgehogs ate grapes. They r