"This is what experience teaches us every day, my child, with regard to faults which we have not as yet committed. Thus," she added, laughing, "I do not despair of seeing you indulgent towards these young ladies, if one day you discover by the same means, that it is difficult not to be an arguer, like Julia; a story-teller, like Adèle; and a lover of mischief, like Honorine."
"As to that mamma," replied Eudoxia, warmly, "that is what I shall never learn."
"Are you quite sure, my child?"—"Oh! quite sure."
"Are you then so differently constituted, as to be able to persuade yourself, that what appears to them so easy, would be impossible to you?"
"It must be so," said Eudoxia, really piqued.
"How then, in that case," said her mother, smiling, "can you expect them to do the same things as yourself? You do not expect Julia, who is much smaller than you are, to reach as high as you do; you only expect this from Honorine, who is as tall as yourself."
"But, mamma," replied Eudoxia, after reflecting for a moment, "perhaps, then, as they are less reasonable, they are not obliged to do as much as other people."
"It would be very wrong for them to think so, my child, for every one ought to do as much good as lies in his power; but every one is likewise enjoined to inquire into his own duties, and not into those of others; therefore attend only to your own. Do you consider it just and reasonable to enjoy the pleasure of feeling that you are better than they are, and at the same time to get impatient with them, because they are not as good as yourself?"
"Mamma, are we then permitted to consider ourselves better than other people?"
"Yes, my child; for to think ourselves better than others is simply to feel that we possess more strength, more reason, more means of doing good, and consequently to consider ourselves bound to do more than them."