ategory, little matter what their station in
life, belong the profligate, the arrogant, the miserly, the weak, the
crafty. Livery counts for nothing: we must see the heart. No class has
the prerogative of simplicity; no dress, however humble in appearance,
is its unfailing badge. Its dwelling need not be a garret, a hut, the
cell of the ascetic nor the lowliest fisherman's bark. Under all the
forms in which life vests itself, in all social positions, at the top as
at the bottom of the ladder, there are people who live simply, and
others who do not. We do not mean by this that simplicity betrays itself
in no visible signs, has not its own habits, its distinguishing tastes
and ways; but this outward show, which may now and then be
counterfeited, must not be confounded with its essence and its deep and
wholly inward source. _Simplicity is a state of mind._ It dwells in the
main intention of our lives. A man is simple when his chief care is the
wish to be what he ought to be, that is, honestly and naturally human.
And this is neither so easy nor so impossible as one might think. At
bottom, it consists in putting our acts and aspirations in accordance
with the law of our being, and consequently with the Eternal Intention
which willed that we should be at all. Let a flower be a flower, a
swallow a swallow, a rock a rock, and let a man be a man, and not a fox,
a hare, a hog, or a bird of prey: this is the sum of the whole matter.

Here we are led to formulate the practical ideal of man. Everywhere in
life we see certain quantities of matter and energy associated for
certain ends. Substances more or less crude are thus transformed and
carried to a higher degree of organization. It is not otherwise with the
life of man. The human ideal is to transform life into something more
excellent than itself. We may compare existence to raw material. What it
is, matters less than what is made of it, as the value of a work of art
lies in the flowering of the workman's skill. We bring into the world
with us different gifts: one has received gold, another granite, a third
marble, most of us wood or clay. Our task is to fashion these
substances. Everyone knows that the most precious material may be
spoiled, and he knows, too, that out of the least costly an immortal
work may be shaped. Art is the realization of a permanent idea in an
ephemeral form. True life is the realization of the higher
virtues,--justice, love, truth, liberty, moral power,