nought else, but that the creature turneth away from the unchangeable Good, and betaketh itself to the changeable; that is to say, that it turneth away from the Perfect, to "that which is in part" and imperfect, and most often to itself. Now mark: when the creature claimeth for its own anything good, such as Substance, Life, Knowledge, Power, and, in short, whatever we should call good, as if it were that, or possessed that, or that were itself, or that proceeded from it, as often as this cometh to pass, the creature goeth astray. What did the devil do else, or what was his going astray and his fall else, but that he claimed for himself to be also somewhat, and would have it that somewhat was his, and somewhat was due to him? This setting up of a claim, and his I, and Me, and Mine, these were his going astray, and his fall, and thus it is to this day.

What else did Adam do but this same thing. It is said, it was because Adam ate the apple that he was lost, or fell. I say, it was because of, his claiming something for his own, and because of his I, Mine, Me, and the like. Had he eaten seven apples, and yet never claimed anything for his own, he would not have fallen; but as soon as he called something his own, he fell, and would have fallen had he never touched an apple.

Theologia Germanica.

Simplicity is an uprightness of soul that has no reference to self; it is different from sincerity, and it is a still higher virtue. We see many people who are sincere

without being simple; they only wish to pass for what they are, and they are unwilling to appear what they are not; they are always thinking of themselves, measuring their words, and recalling their thoughts, and reviewing their actions, from the fear that they have done too much or too little. These persons are sincere, but they are not simple; they are not at ease with others, and others are not at ease with them; they are not free, ingenuous, natural; we prefer people who are less correct, less perfect, and who are less artificial. This is the decision of man, and it is the judgment of God, who would not have us so occupied with ourselves, and thus, as it were, always arranging our features in a mirror.

To be wholly occupied with others, never to look within, is the state of blindness of those who are entirely engrossed by what is present and addressed to their senses; this is the very reverse of simplicity. To be absorbed in self in whatever engages us, whether we are laboring for our fellow beings, or for God, to be wise in our own eyes, reserved, and full of ourselves, troubled at the least thing that disturbs our self-complacency, is the opposite extreme. This is false wisdom, which, with all its glory, is but little less absurd than that folly which pursues only pleasure. The one is intoxicated with all that it sees around it, the other with all that it imagines it has within; but it is delirium in both. To be absorbed in the contemplation of our own minds, is really worse than to be engrossed by outward things, because it appears like wisdom, and yet is not; we do not think of curing it;

we pride ourselves upon it; we approve of it; it gives us an unnatural strength; it is a sort of frenzy: we are not conscious of it: we are dying, and we think we are in health.

Simplicity consists in a just medium, in which we are neither too much excited nor too composed. The soul is not carried away by outward things, so that it cannot make all necessary reflections; neither does it make those continual references to self, that a jealous sense of its own excellence multiplies to infinity. That freedom of the soul which looks straight onward in its path, losing no time to reason upon its steps, to study them, or to contemplate those that it has already taken, is true simplicity.

But it will be said, How can I help being occupied with myself? A crowd of selfish fears trouble me, and tyrannize over my mind, and excite a lively sensibility. The principal means to cure this is to yield yourself up sincerely to God, to place all your interests, pleasures and reputation in his hands, to receive all the sufferings that he may inflict upon you in this scene of humiliation, as trials and tests of your love to him, neither to fear the scrutiny, nor to avoid the censure of mankind. This state of willing acquiescence produces true liberty, and this liberty brings perfect simplicity. A soul that is liberated from the little earthly interests of self-love, becomes confiding, and moves straight onward, and its views expand even to infinity, just in proportion as its forgetfulness of self increases, and its peace is profound even in the midst of trouble.

I have already said that the opinion of the world conforms to the judgment of God, upon this noble simplicity. The world admires, even in its votaries, the free and easy manners of a person who has lost sight of self. But the simplicity which is produced by a devotion to external things, still more vain than self, is not the true simplicity; it is only an image of it, and cannot represent its greatness. They who cannot find the substance, pursue the shadow; and shadow as it is, it has a charm, for it has some resemblance to the reality that they have lost. A person full of defects, who does not attempt to hide them, who does not seek to dazzle, who does not affect either talents or virtue, who does not appear to think of himself more than of others, but to have lost sight of this self of which we are so jealous, pleases greatly in spite of his defects. This false simplicity is taken for the true. On the contrary, a person full of talents, of virtues and of exterior graces, if he appear artificial, if he be thinking of himself, if he affect the very best things, is a tedious and wearisome companion that no one likes.

Fenelon, translated by Mrs. Follen.

He has gone but a little way in this matter who supposes that it is an easy thing for a man to speak the truth, “the thing he troweth ;" and that it is a casual function which may be fulfilled at once after any lapse of exercise. But in the first place, the man who would speak truth must know what he troweth. To do that he must have an uncorrupted judgment. But some people's judgments are

so entirely gained over by vanity, selfishness, passion, or inflated prejudices, and fancies long indulged in; or they have the habit of looking at every thing so carelessly, that they see nothing truly.

Again, to speak truth, a man must not only have that martial courage which goes out, with sound of drum and trumpet, to do and suffer great things; but that domestic courage which compels him to utter small-sounding truths in spite of present inconvenience, and outraged sensitiveness or sensibility.

Truth-telling in its highest sense, requires a well balanced mind. For instance, much exaggeration, perhaps the most, is occasioned by an impatient and easily-moved temperament, which longs to convey its own vivid impressions to other minds, and seeks by amplifying to gain the full measure of their sympathy. But a true man does not think what his hearers are feeling, but what he is saying..

Truth in Social Relations. Under this head come the practices of making speech vary according to the person spoken to; of pretending to agree with the world when you do not; of maintaining a wrong course for the sake of consistency; of encouraging the show of intimacy with those whom you can never be intimate with; and many things of the same kind. These practices have elements of charity and prudence as well as fear and meanness in them. Let those parts which correspond to fear and meanness be set aside. Charity and prudence are not parasitical plants, which require boles of falsehood to