In all Fénélon's letters there is not a querulous word concerning his exile, although we perceive traces in the view he takes of the position of others, and in the advice he gives, of the pleasure he must have derived from the cultivated society then collected in Paris; but he could cheerfully bear absence from the busy scene. His simple and affectionate heart found food for happiness among his flock. To instruct his seminarists with the patience and gentleness that adorned his character; to watch over the affairs of his diocese; to teach by sermons, which flowed from the abundance of his heart; and in writing letters of instruction to various of the laity, who placed themselves under his direction,--were his occupations; and his time employed by these duties and by writing, was fully and worthily employed. He regretted his absence from some of his friends, with whom he corresponded; but he never complained. The peace of heaven was in his heart; and he breathed an air purged of all human disquietude. It was his religion not to make himself unhappy about even his own errors. He taught that we ought to deliver our souls into the hands of God, and submit, as to his pleasure, to the shame and annoyance brought on us by our imperfections; not only to feel as nothing before him, but not even to wish to feel any thing. "I adore you, infant Jesus," he wrote, "naked, and weeping, and stretched upon the cross. I love your infancy and poverty: O! that I were as childlike and poor as you. O Eternal wisdom, reduced to infancy, take away my vain and presumptuous wisdom; make me a child like yourself. Be silent, ye wise men of the earth! I desire to be nothing, to know nothing; to believe all, to suffer all, and to love all. The Word, made flesh, lisps, weeps, and gives forth infantine cries;--and shall I take pride in wisdom; shall I take pleasure in the efforts of my understanding, and fear that the world should not entertain a sufficiently high idea of my ability. No, no; all my delight will be to grow little; to crush myself; to become obscure; to be silent; to join to the shame of Jesus crucified, the impotence and lisping of the infant Jesus." When we reflect that this was written by a man who sedulously adorned his mind by the study of the ancients, and who added to his own language, books written with elegance and learning, and which display a comprehensive understanding and delicate taste, we feel the extent of that humility which could disregard all these human acquirements compared with the omniscience of God; and that as Socrates acknowledged that he knew nothing, and was therefore pronounced to be the wisest of men, so did the sense which Fénélon entertained of the nothingness of human wisdom, stamp him as far advanced in that higher knowledge which can look down on all human efforts as the working of emmets on an ant-hill.