Lucilla, smiling, said, "she hoped Sir John had a little over-charged the picture." He defended himself by declaring, "he drew from the life, and that from his long observations he could present us with a whole gallery of such portraits." He left me to continue my walk with the two Miss Stanleys.
The more I conversed with Lucilla, the more I saw that good breeding in her was only the outward expression of humility, and not an art employed for the purpose of enabling her to do without it. We continued to converse on the subject of Miss Flam's fondness for the gay world. This introduced a natural expression of my admiration of Miss Stanley's choice of pleasures and pursuits so different from those of most other women of her age.
With the most graceful modesty she said, "Nothing humbles me more than compliments; for when I compare what I hear with what I feel, I find the picture of myself drawn by a flattering friend so utterly unlike the original in my own heart, that I am more sunk by my own consciousness of the want of resemblance, than elated that another has not discovered it. It makes me feel like an imposter. If I contradict this favorable opinion, I am afraid of being accused of affectation; and if I silently swallow it, I am contributing to the deceit of passing for what I am not." This ingenious mode of disclaiming flattery only raised her in my esteem, and the more, as I told her such humble renunciation of praise could only proceed from that inward principle of genuine piety and devout feeling which made so amiable a part of her character.
"How little," said she, "is the human heart known except to him who made it! While a fellow creature may admire our apparent devotion, he who appears to be its object, witnesses the wandering of the heart, which seems to be lifted up to him. He sees it roving to the ends of the earth, busied about any thing rather than himself, running after trifles which would not only dishonor Christian, but would disgrace a child. As to my very virtues, if I dare apply such a word to myself, they sometimes lose their character by not keeping their proper place. They become sins by infringing on higher duties. If I mean to perform an act of devotion, some crude plan of charity forces itself on my mind, and what with trying to drive out one, and to establish the other, I rise dissatisfied and unimproved, and resting my sole hope, not on the duty I have been performing, but on the mercy I have been offending."
I assured her with all the simplicity of truth, and all the sincerity of affection, that this confession only served to raise my opinion of the piety she disclaimed; that such deep consciousness of imperfection, so quick a discernment of the slightest deviation, and such constant vigilance to prevent it, were the truest indications of an humble spirit; and that those who thus carefully guarded themselves against small errors, were in little danger of being betrayed into great ones.
She replied, smiling, that "she should not be so angry with vanity, if it would be contented to keep its proper place among its vices; but her quarrel with it was, that it would mix itself among our virtues, and rob us of their reward."
"Vanity, indeed," replied I, "differs from the other vices in this; they commonly are only opposite to the one contrary virtue, while this vice has a kind of ubiquity, is on the watch to intrude everywhere, and weakens all the virtues which it can not destroy. I believe vanity was the harpy of the ancient poets, which, they tell us, tainted whatever it touched."
"Self-deception is so easy," replied Miss Stanley, "that I am even afraid of highly extolling any good quality, lest I should sit down satisfied with having borne any testimony in its favor, and so rest contented with the praise instead of the practise. Commending a right thing is a cheap substitute for doing it, with which we are too apt to satisfy ourselves."
"There is no mark," I replied, "which more clearly distinguishes that humility which has the love of God for its principle, from its counterfeit—a false and superficial politeness—than that while this last flatters, in order to extort in return more praise than its due, humility, like the divine principle from which it springs, seeketh not even its own."
In answer to some further remark of mine, with an air of infinite modesty, she said, "I have been betrayed, sir, into saying too much. It will, I trust, however, have the good effect of preventing you from thinking better of me than I deserve. In general, I hold it indiscreet to speak of the state of one's mind. I have been taught this piece of prudence by my own indiscretion. I once lamented to a lady the fault of which we have now been speaking, and observed how difficult it was to keep the heart right. She so little understood the nature of this inward corruption, that she told in confidence to two or three friends, that they were all much mistaken in Miss Stanley, for though her character stood so fair with all the world, she had secretly confessed to her that she was a great sinner."