'Yes, indeed, Curdie.'

'But may not one sometimes make a mistake without being able to
help it?'

'Yes. But so long as he is not after his own ends, he will never
make a serious mistake.'

'I suppose you want me, ma'am, to warn every one whose hand tells
me that he is growing a beast - because, as you say, he does not
know it himself.'

The princess smiled.

'Much good that would do, Curdie! I don't say there are no cases
in which it would be of use, but they are very rare and peculiar
cases, and if such come you will know them. To such a person there
is in general no insult like the truth. He cannot endure it, not
because he is growing a beast, but because he is ceasing to be a
man. It is the dying man in him that it makes uncomfortable, and
he trots, or creeps, or swims, or flutters out of its way - calls
it a foolish feeling, a whim, an old wives' fable, a bit of
priests' humbug, an effete superstition, and so on.'

'And is there no hope for him? Can nothing be done? It's so awful
to think of going down, down, down like that!'

'Even when it's with his own will?'