Mary.  Oh, if we could but understand the meaning of it all!

L. We can understand all that is good for us.  It is just as true for us as for the crystal, that the nobleness of life depends on its consistency,—­clearness of purpose—­quiet and ceaseless energy.  All doubt and repenting, and botching and re-touching and wondering what will it be best to do next, are vice, as well as misery.

Mary (much wondering).  But must not one repent when one does wrong, and hesitate when one can’t see one’s way?

L. You have no business at all to do wrong, nor to get into any way that you cannot see.  Your intelligence should always be far in advance of your act.  Whenever you do not know what you are about, you are sure to be doing wrong.

Kathleen.  Oh, dear, but I never know what I am about!

L. Very true, Katie, but it is a great deal to know, if you know that.  And you find that you have done wrong afterwards; and perhaps some day you may begin to know, or at least, think, what you are about.

Isabel.  But surely people can’t do very wrong if they don’t know, can they?  I mean, they can’t be very naughty.  They can be wrong, like Kathleen or me, when we make mistakes; but not wrong in the dreadful way.  I can’t express what I mean; but there are two sorts of wrong, are there not?

L. Yes, Isabel; but you will find that the great difference is between kind and unkind wrongs, not between meant and unmeant wrong.  Very few people really mean to do wrong,—­in a deep sense, none.  They only don’t know what they are about.  Cain did not mean to do wrong when he killed Abel.

(Isabel draws a deep breath, and opens her eyes very wide.)

L. No, Isabel; and there are countless Cains among us now, who kill their brothers by the score a day, not only for less provocation than Cain had, but for no provocation,—­and merely for what they can make of their bones,—­yet do not think they are doing wrong in the least.  Then sometimes you have the business reversed, as over in America these last years, where you have seen Abel resolutely killing Cain, and not thinking he is doing wrong The great difficulty is always to open people’s eyes:  to touch their feelings and break their hearts, is easy, the difficult thing is to break their heads.  What does it matter as long as they remain stupid, whether you change their feelings or not?  You cannot be always at their elbow to tell them what is right and they may just do as wrong as before or worse, and their best intentions merely make the road smooth for them,—­you know where, children.  For it is not the place itself that is paved with them as people say so often.  You can’t pave the bottomless pit, but you may the road to it

May.  Well, but if people do as well as they can see how, surely that is the right for them, isn’t it?