the reason for doing so; and a duty which one can satisfy oneself
about, forces itself upon one as a sort of necessity. And what can
throw a stronger light on our duties than a thorough acquaintance with
ourselves?

It is upwards of two thousand two hundred years ago (and that is not
yesterday, you must own!) since one of the greatest minds of the
world--Socrates--never forget that name--taught his disciples, as a
foundation precept, this apparently simple maxim, "Know thyself." He
meant this, it is true, in a much higher sense than we are aiming at
in these conversations of ours, but his rule is so practical, that
although you have only as yet taken a mere peep into one small corner
of self-knowledge, you find, if I am not much mistaken, that your heart
has beaten once or twice rather faster than it did before. Was I wrong,
in saying from the beginning, that we become better as we grow in
knowledge? Is it not true that you have felt more tenderly than ever
towards her who nourished you with her milk, since I explained to you
the value of milk; and that you have kissed your mother's hand all the
more lovingly since you heard my history of the hand? To tell you the
truth, if you had not done so, I should have been dissatisfied both
with you and myself.

And wait! While we are talking thus, another thought has come into my
head about hands and nurses, which I must tell you of.

There is something of the nurse, my child, in those who take the best
fruits of their intellect and heart, and transform them, as it were,
into milk, in order that your infant soul may receive a nourishment
it will be able to digest without too much effort. In this way their
very soul enters into you, and it is but fair that you should reward