r a shelf; again, it will not do instead of a pillow: so
you see that a reading-desk also has its special functions, for which
you must use it. So, if you look at your parents in the light of your
parents, and treat them with filial piety, that is the special duty of
children; that is true benevolence; that is the heart of man. Now
although you may think that, when I speak in this way, I am speaking
of others, and not of yourselves, believe me that the heart of every
one of you is by nature pure benevolence. I am just taking down your
hearts as a shopman does goods from his shelves, and pointing out the
good and bad qualities of each; but if you will not lay what I say to
your own accounts, but persist in thinking that it is all anybody's
business but yours, all my labour will be lost.

Listen! You who answer your parents rudely, and cause them to weep;
you who bring grief and trouble on your masters; you who cause your
husbands to fly into passions; you who cause your wives to mourn; you
who hate your younger brothers, and treat your elder brothers with
contempt; you who sow sorrow broadcast over the world;--what are you
doing but blowing your noses in fans, and using reading-desks as
pillows? I don't mean to say that there are any such persons here;
still there are plenty of them to be found--say in the back streets in
India, for instance. Be so good as to mind what I have said.

Consider, carefully, if a man is born with a naturally bad
disposition, what a dreadful thing that is! Happily, you and I were
born with perfect hearts, which we would not change for a
thousand--no, not for ten thousand pieces of gold: is not this
something to be thankful for?

This perfect heart is called in my discourses, "the original heart of
man." It is true that benevolence is also called the original heart of
man; still there is a slight difference between the two. However, as
the inquiry into this difference would be tedious, it is sufficient
for you to look upon this original heart of man as a perfect thing,
and you will fall into no error. It is true that I have not the honour
of the personal acquaintance of every one of you who are present:
still I know that your hearts are perfect. The proof of this, that if
you say that which you ought not to say, or do that which you ought
not to do, your hearts within you are, in some mysterious way,
immediately conscious of wrong. When the man that has a perfect heart
does that which is imp