However, there is one thing certain, namely: that this knowledge is not obtained in the midst of tumult and pleasures, from the seductions of the world or the distractions of life. It is not by fleeing one's-self as we would fly an enemy; by concealing with a complaisant but perfidious veil our defects, to avoid being troubled by their appearance--always painful to pride; it is not by living a dreamy life of fiction to which the slaves of the world condemn themselves with a deplorable obsequiousness; it is not by continually trying to deceive ourselves and others that we may learn how to know ourselves; and, just as our knowledge of material things increases by the frequency of our relations with them--for instance we know persons better with whom we are intimately acquainted than those with whom we are comparatively strangers--so, likewise, in order to know ourselves well, we must live intimately with ourselves, observe closely and impartially all the movements of our mind and heart, frequently descending into the depth of our soul, scrupulously examining our thoughts, desires and actions, sparing no pains to discern well their source and motives; this latter portion of the work is, without doubt, the most difficult, since it is the point at which all the passions unite to deceive us by the most subtle illusions. The best actions are despoiled of their merit by certain motives of vanity, often concealed from our own notice. The motives by which we are actuated are, relative to our actions, what the eye is relative to our body,--it is the motive that gives light and brilliancy to our actions. This is the sense in which we should understand our Lord when He says if our eye be simple our whole body will be luminous. Now the great light by which we can clearly see the motives for which we act is meditation. In the peaceful calm of solitude, and in the silent slumber of the passions, meditation puts us in presence of ourselves, before our own eyes, by which we see ourselves as in a true mirror. Meditation teaches us to judge without prejudice what we have done and to determine with propriety what we should do, by making the experience of the past our lamp for the future, and by converting past mistakes into practical lessons for the present. The meditative and recollected soul will turn even her shortcomings to good account; seeing her delinquencies, she clothes herself with the mantle of humility, she rises with renewed confidence, and shuns with greater care the occasion of those evils from which she has suffered; she is rarely taken by surprise, a few moments' reflection will suffice for her to determine what is to be done under the circumstances; she is rarely taken in the snare of deception, for she knows that human nature is weak, vacillating and unreliable, and, consequently, she keeps herself on her guard.