Janus was pleased with the ready repartee and exclaimed: "How bright and
happy you look! Faces free from care are rare birds in these days."

Maria blushed, for she did not know how to interpret the words of the
nobleman, who understood how to reprove with subtle mockery, and answered
naively: "Don't think me frivolous, Junker. I know the seriousness of
the times, but I have just finished a silent confession and discovered
many bad traits in my character, but also the desire to replace them with
more praiseworthy ones."

"There, there," replied Janus. "I knew long ago that you had formed a
friendship in the Delft school with my old sage. 'Know thyself,' was the
Greek's principal lesson, and you wisely obey it. Every silent
confession, every desire for inward purification, must begin with the
purpose of knowing ourselves and, if in so doing we unexpectedly
encounter things which tend to make our beloved selves uncomely, and have
the courage to find them just as hideous in ourselves as in others--"

"Abhorrence will come, and we shall have taken the first step towards
improvement."

"No, dear lady, we shall then stand on one of the higher steps. After
hours of long, deep thought, Socrates perceived--do you know what?"

"That he knew nothing at all. I shall arrive at this perception more
speedily."

"And the Christian learns it at school," said Barbara, to join in the
conversation. "All knowledge is botchwork."