{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_56906/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_56906","id":"gutenberg_56906","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56906","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: French Literature","Category: History - European","Category: Religion/Spirituality","F\u00e9nelon, Fran\u00e7ois de Salignac de La Mothe-, 1651-1715"],"text":"Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                          _Men of the Kingdom_\n\n\n\n\n                          F\u00e9nelon: The Mystic\n\n\n                                  _By_\n                              James Mudge,\n     Author of \"The Saintly Calling,\" \"The Best of Browning,\" etc.\n\n                    CINCINNATI: JENNINGS AND GRAHAM\n                       NEW YORK: EATON AND MAINS\n\n                           copyright 1906, by\n                          Jennings and Graham\n\n\n                           _To My Dear Wife._\n                       A wise mother of children,\n                    A faithful missionary in India,\n                 An efficient worker in many Churches.\n\n\n\n\n                          A WORD TO THE READER\n\n\nThere have been many lives of F\u00e9nelon. Four were brought out in the\neighteenth century, and two quite extensive ones were issued as recently\nas 1901. In a few cases they have been written in a spirit of cold,\nsupercilious disparagement and cynical comment by people who evidently\nhad no experience which would qualify them to understand the character\nthey rashly attempted to portray. But the endeavor to pull F\u00e9nelon down\nfrom the pedestal on which he has so long stood can not succeed. So long\nas his own writings remain to bear testimony to the high qualities of\nhis mind and soul, his fame is secure. It is the chief regret of the\npresent writer that, owing to the restricted size of the book, he has\nnot been able to give more of F\u00e9nelon's own words. The reader is\nrecommended to procure the \"Spiritual Letters\" of F\u00e9nelon, published in\ntwo volumes by E. P. Dutton & Co., New York.[1]\n\nIt is not claimed that F\u00e9nelon was wholly without faults, or was in all\nrespects ahead of his times. How could that be expected? He took, in the\nmain, of course, the Roman Catholic view in the questions that arose\nregarding heresy and the general affairs of the Church. It is not\nnecessary to defend him for this. We are concerned, in studying such\npersons, not so much with their dogmatic opinions and beliefs, the\nresult of their environment, as with the spirit of their lives, their\nattainments in holiness, and the light which they can shed on the best\nmeans of growth in grace. It is believed that the present volume will be\nfound helpful to this end. The type of piety exemplified by F\u00e9nelon,\nFletcher, Faber, and others of this sort, does not appeal with equal\nforce to all, owing to difference of mental and physical constitution.\nBut all, whatever their temperament, can get only good by contemplating\nsuch an example as is presented in these pages. They can not feel the\nquick throbs of his deeply loving heart, and note the sincerity of\npurpose with which he served his dear Redeemer, without being stimulated\nin their zeal, and helped to walk, in their own way, more worthily of\nthe vocation with which they themselves are called. That this may indeed\nbe the outcome for every reader of the following chapters, is the\nearnest prayer of the author.\n\n                                                            JAMES MUDGE.\n\nJamaica Plain, Mass.\n\n\n\n\n                                CONTENTS\n\n\nChapter                                                             Page\n\nI. From Youth to Manhood,                                              9\n\nII. The Setting of the Picture,                                       45\n\nIII. Preceptor to the Prince,                                         67\n\nIV. Mysticism and Quietism,                                           94\n\nV. The Great Conflict,                                               120\n\nVI. The Good Archbishop,                                             159\n\nVII. The Spiritual Letters,                                          193\n\n\n\n\n                          F\u00e9nelon: The Mystic\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAPTER I.\n                         FROM YOUTH TO MANHOOD.\n\n\nChristian perfection, or the highest possibilities of Christian grace\nand growth, is a theme of intense interest to every true lover of the\nLord. There are many ways of promoting it, widely differing in their\nmerits and their helpfulness. Without disparaging other methods, it may\nbe safely said that nothing can be better than example. Christianity\ncenters around a person; and personal experience perennially appeals.\nBetter than abstract discussion is concrete practice. More profitable\nthan speculation and controversy is an actual life on highest levels.\nThere is also a large advantage in beholding such a life in another age\nand land and Church, thus noting how God can magnify and fulfill Himself\nin very diverse circumstances, and amid intellectual influences that to\nus are quite obnoxious.\n\nWe invite, therefore, the attention of the thoughtful reader to a man\nwho presents one of the most perfect types of human purity that the\nworld has ever seen; one who for two hundred years has stood among the\nchoicest few of those universally esteemed to be authorities in\nspiritual things; one endowed with a luster which the lapse of time can\nnot tarnish,--a luster far brighter than can be bestowed by mere worldly\nhonors or temporal prosperity, however high. He not only had a heart\nfilled with the love of God and glowing with pure devotion, but also a\nmind capable of the closest analysis and the keenest discrimination. He\nwas not only a saint, but also a scholar and a genius, an original\nthinker as well as a pursuer of holiness. Such combinations are very\nrare. His thirst for perfection has probably never been surpassed.\nSeldom, if ever, has such a remarkable combination of high qualities\ntabernacled in the flesh. He had both modesty and majesty, both\nsimplicity and sublimity, unconquerable firmness in duty, unsurpassed\nmeekness in society; he was equally eminent for piety and politeness,\nfor morals and manners; he was sympathetic and chivalrous, severe to\nhimself, indulgent to others. In the midst of a voluptuous court he\npracticed the virtues of an anchorite; with the revenues of a prince at\ncommand he hardly allowed himself ordinary comforts. His abilities\nawaken our admiration, his afflictions excite our compassion. Born among\nthe nobility of earth, he resisted the blandishments of earthly pomp,\nand became crowned with the far higher nobility of heaven. He was truly\nhumble and truly heroic; good as well as great; skillful in teaching,\nwise in counsel, master of an elegant style both in composition and\ndiscourse; faithful to his friends and kind to his foes; devoted to his\nnative land, generous to his family, a man of peace yet ready to fight\nfor the faith, true to his convictions, tolerant toward those of other\nbeliefs, tenderly affectionate, vigorously diligent; the glory of his\ncountry, the joy of mankind, the beloved of the Lord. He had an intense\nnature, and was, as has been said, \"One whose religion must be more\nloving than love, his daily life more kind than kindness, his words\ntruer than truth itself.\" Lamartine calls him \"beautiful as a Raphael's\nSt. John leaning on the bosom of Christ.\" He had the imagination of a\nwoman for dreaming of heaven, and the soul of a man for subduing the\nearth. The especially feminine qualities were prominent in him, yet he\nstrikes no one as effeminate, and when he felt himself set for the\ndefense of the truth he showed a power that greatly surprised his\nenemies. \"His soul was like a star and dwelt apart,\" \"alone with the\nAlone.\" And yet he was so deeply interested in the welfare of France and\nhis fellow-men that he has been called a politician; statesman would be\nthe word more befitting the facts, for his ideas as to the measures and\npolicies necessary to make the land prosperous were in the main very\nwise, and he had no personal ends to serve. In whatever capacity we\nconsider him--poet, orator, moralist, metaphysician, politician,\ninstructor, bishop, friend, persecuted Christian--he excites our keenest\ninterest, our warmest admiration. He greatly desired to please every\none, and succeeded so far as circumstances allowed; but the desire was\nheld in strictest control by a strong sense of duty, which compelled him\nat times to do and say things most unacceptable to many. He was no\ncourtier, no flatterer, he could not make his own interests the first\nconsideration. He was a prophet in Gomorrah, charged with a message\nwhich pressed upon him for utterance, and for the delivery of which the\ntime was short. At the court of Louis XIV--a spot above all others on\nthe face of the earth, perhaps, in that century, disgraced by\nselfishness, hypocrisy, and intrigue--he bears not a little resemblance\nto a seraph sent on a divine mission to the shades of the lost. There is\nendless fascination in his story. He was not without faults, but his\nfaults were those of his age; his virtues were his own. He turned a\nhaughty, irritable, overbearing young prince, an incipient C\u00e6sar Borgia,\ninto the mildest, most docile, obedient of men. He possessed his soul in\npeace amid provocations that would have been far too much for most of\nus. Neither public disgrace nor personal bereavement had power to\nembitter him. He listened to the voice of God within him, and marched\nstraight on, breast forward. In the language of Herder, \"His Church\nindeed canonized him not, but humanity has.\" He is a saint in the eyes\nof multitudes not attracted by official sanctity; an apostle of liberty\nthat dared withstand the Grand Monarque; a martyr spending half a life\nin exile, through the machinations of a court faction which dreaded his\nincorruptible goodness. \"Being dead, he yet speaketh.\" \"One of the\nnoblest men who ever lived,\" says Dr. John Henry Kurtz, the\ndistinguished Church historian. Joseph de Maistre exclaims: \"Do we wish\nto paint ideal greatness? Let us try to imagine something that surpasses\nF\u00e9nelon--we shall not succeed.\" Let us, then, putting aside imagination,\nendeavor to rescue from the musty record of the misty past, a lifelike\nimage of this many-sided, multiple, versatile personality.\n\n\nFran\u00e7ois de Salignac de la Mothe F\u00e9nelon was born August 6, 1651, at the\ncastle, or chateau, of F\u00e9nelon, about three miles from the town of\nSarlat, in the department of Southern France, formerly called Perigord,\nnow Dordogne, north of the river Garonne. The De Salignacs were of an\nancient and distinguished family, counting in their long pedigree many\nof the best names of France--bishops, governors, generals, and\nambassadors. But it is safe to say that they have derived more luster\nfrom the single name of the Archbishop of Cambrai than from all the rest\nwho through several centuries filled lofty stations in camp and court\nand Church.\n\nVery little is known about his parents or his early life. Pons de\nSalignac, Count of La Mothe F\u00e9nelon, father of Francis, was twice\nmarried, having fourteen children by his first wife and three by his\nsecond. The eldest of the three was Francis. His mother, Mademoiselle\nLouise de la Cropte de Saint-Arbre, sister of a celebrated lieutenant\nwho served under Marshal Turenne, is said to have been unusually pious,\nwhich we can well believe, and to have perpetuated some of her other\ntraits in her famous son. From his father's side he doubtless inherited\nhis diplomatic temperament and a goodly degree of worldly wisdom. His\npeculiar situation in the household could hardly fail to have had\nsomething to do with his character. The numerous grown-up sons and\ndaughters of his father's first marriage took umbrage at the second;\nhence the precocious and sensitive child had abundant occasion to\npractice all possible arts of ingratiation to obtain forgiveness for\nhaving intruded his existence upon them, and to make it pleasant for his\nmother. His constitution was delicate, and he had a sickly childhood;\nonce at least in his early days his life was despaired of, and he only\nrecovered to be for years the victim of sleeplessness and kindred\nailments. He was the idol of his old father, who, recognizing his\nunusual talents, took special pains with his education. It was intrusted\nat first to a private preceptor, who seems to have been well fitted for\nhis task, and gave to his pupil in a few years a better knowledge of\nGreek and Latin than is commonly obtained at so early an age, doubtless\nlaying thus the foundation of his exquisitely finished style. At twelve\nhe left the paternal roof for the neighboring University of Cahors (a\ntown about sixty miles north of Toulouse, containing now an obelisk of\nF\u00e9nelon), where he pursued for some three years philosophical and\nphilological studies and took his degrees in the arts.\n\nHis father probably died about this time, as we hear nothing further of\nhim, and his uncle, the Marquis Antoine de F\u00e9nelon, who had lost his own\nson, acted henceforth as the father of his nephew. It was a most happy\ncircumstance, for the marquis was deeply religious and of an unsullied\nprivate life, as well as very independent in his character. The Grand\nCond\u00e9, greatest general of his time, described him as \"equally at home\nin society, war, and the council chamber.\" When M. de Harlai was\nnominated to the Archbishopric of Paris, the marquis remarked to him,\n\"There is a wide difference, my Right Reverend Lord, between the day\nwhen the nomination for such an office brings to the party the\ncompliments of the whole kingdom, and the day on which he appears before\nGod to render Him an account of his administration;\" a reflection which,\nalthough much needed, could not have been very agreeable to De Harlai,\nfor he was a notorious evil liver, who introduced every species of\ncorruption into the administration of his diocese, and scandalized all\nby the iniquities also of his private life. Another indication of the\nmarquis's truly noble quality is seen in the fact that when M. Olier,\nthe celebrated founder of the Congregation of St. Sulpice, wished to\nform an association of gentlemen whose courage was past impeachment, to\nbind themselves with an oath neither to accept any challenge nor act the\npart of second in any duel--that the practice of dueling might thus be\nchecked--he asked M. de F\u00e9nelon to take the post of president of the\nassociation, being convinced that there was no one whose reputation was\nmore firmly established both in court and camp.\n\nUnder the guidance, then, of this admirable relative, who was so\nexceptionally well fitted by character, position, and situation to give\nhis nephew the best possible start in life, and who tenderly loved him,\nyoung Francis came to Paris in 1666, at the age of fifteen. It was not,\nof course, the Paris of the present day; but even then it was a great\ncity, reaching back for its beginning to the Roman times, and recognized\nas the seat of government for at least a thousand years. Under Henry of\nNavarre (1589-1610) great improvements had been made, and by the\naccession of Louis XIV--who began to reign nominally in 1643, at the age\nof five, but really took charge of the kingdom in 1661--through the\ncompletion of several bridges, roads, and quays, and the erection of\nvarious public and private palaces, a new face had been put on the old\ncity. It was already the focus of European civilization, learning, and\neloquence, as well as the center of all that was most attractive and\ndistinguished in France. The best institutions were there, the best\nopportunities for advancement, the highest privileges and advantages of\nevery sort; so that to it naturally gravitated all who wished to make\nthe most of themselves under the eye of that Grand Monarch whose favor\nwas life. Francis, therefore, no doubt counted himself greatly blessed\nat this change, and entered upon his Parisian life--which was to last\nthirty-one years--with very high, ambitious hopes. His guardian sent him\nfor two years to the Coll\u00e9ge du Plessis, then under the rule of M.\nGobinet, a first-rate principal. There he speedily distinguished himself\nas a scholar, and he also gave such tokens of possessing the gift of\neloquence that before he was sixteen he was put forward to preach to an\nadmiring audience. It is, perhaps, worth noting that Bossuet--who was so\nsoon to be closely associated with F\u00e9nelon, at first in friendship, then\nin fierce hostility--also preached at the same age, with similar\napplause, before a brilliant assemblage in Paris.\n\nWhat was the next step? A noble under Louis XIV had two possible careers\nopen to him, and only two; they were the army and the Church. It is not\nprobable that the matter was long debated, if at all, in Francis' case.\nEverything about him, his gifts of speech, his high scholarship, his\ndeep piety, his rather delicate health, pointed to the clerical\nvocation, and there can be no question but this was with him a divine\ncalling, to which doubtless his heart gave full assent. So he was\nplaced, in 1688, at the seminary of St. Sulpice to be trained for the\npriesthood.\n\nSince he was to spend no less than ten happy years, in the formative\nperiod of seventeen to twenty-seven, in connection with this\ninstitution, it may be well that we say a few words about it and its\ndirector. It was the principal fruit of the great Catholic revival at\nthe beginning of the century, the embodiment of all the force of that\nmovement--a movement marked by very earnest piety and a somewhat unusual\ncombination of emotionalism and asceticism. It was founded by a group of\ndevoted men sprung from the upper-middle class; and chief among them was\nM. Olier, a man justly celebrated for his saintly life. He was appointed\nin 1642 to the parish of St. Sulpice when it was noted as the most\ndepraved quarter of Paris. He labored unremittingly and very\nsuccessfully to reform this unpromising flock, and the young priests who\nwere associated with him in his task constituted the nucleus of the\nseminary and community of St. Sulpice. The necessary building to house\nthe institution, to the establishment of which Monsieur Olier gave\nhimself with highest enthusiasm, was completed in 1652--a square edifice\ncapable of receiving one hundred inmates. This became the center of a\nmost wholesome and inspiring activity.\n\nThe founder had a very high ideal of sacerdotal character. He would not\nadmit any who embraced the sacred calling from considerations of\nambition or expediency, and those admitted were subjected to the\nsharpest kind of tests. Whatever their birth or condition they were\nrequired to perform the menial duties of the house, and to mingle on\nterms of absolute equality with their fellow-students. The complete\nimmolation of self was set as the paramount aim before those who looked\nforward to holy orders. The will must be entirely surrendered. The good\npriest must become the model of all the virtues. All earthly interests\nand ties must be renounced. The closest union with the Divine was to be\ncultivated. A very literal interpretation of the teaching of the Master\nwas followed. The pupils were urged to study the Gospels till they could\nbring the Divine life before them at any moment in a series of mental\npictures which should help them in the decision of all perplexing\nquestions of duty, and were exhorted to keep themselves in such a\ndisposition that meditation on that model life would never seem strange\nor demand a violent mental revulsion whatever their outward\ncircumstances might be. While the ceremonies of the Church were observed\nwith minute exactness, and occasional austerities were practiced, and\nlearning was not neglected, the main thought was that the perfection of\npersonal character must be secured at all costs; the world was to be\nabandoned, the flesh crucified, the devil in all his forms resisted, and\nlessons of humility, obedience, and charity were to be most carefully\nlearned. They were taught that in the silence which succeeds the\nstruggle of self-abandonment they would find Christ coming to them--the\nChrist who had borne all and understood all, and whose presence was far\nmore worth having than the prizes they had missed or put away.\n\nIt can well be believed that this wholly consecrated man, the first\nsuperior of St. Sulpice, won to himself so large a share of personal\naffection and loyalty from his students that when he was removed from\nits care many feared its collapse. But this was not to be. A suitable\nsuccessor was found in M. Louis Tronson, a man every way as capable as\nthe first founder--indeed more learned in theology--and fully disposed\nto continue the traditions of the institution as already laid down; a\nman who coveted no external recognition, joined in no race for\npreferment, but gave himself with singleness of eye to the great work\nintrusted to him by the Master. It was to his care that Francis F\u00e9nelon\nwas committed, and he speedily won the enthusiastic affection of the\nyoung man. In a few years F\u00e9nelon writes concerning his teacher to Pope\nClement XI as follows: \"Never have I seen his equal for piety and\nprudence, for love of justice and insight into character. I glory in the\nthought that I was brought up under his wing.\" F\u00e9nelon was evidently one\nof the Abb\u00e9 Tronson's favorites, for he was a favorite with everybody,\nand all could see in the brilliant youth a promise that would do honor\nto those who had a share in his development. A high degree of confidence\nwas given and received on both sides. Francis wrote to his uncle, in a\nburst of gratitude, one day: \"I earnestly desire to be able to tell you\nsome part of all that passes between M. Tronson and me; but indeed,\nMonsieur, I know not how to do so. I find I can be much more explicit\nwith him than with you, nor would it be easy to describe the degree of\nunion we have reached. If you could hear our conversation you would not\nknow your pupil, and you would see that God has very marvelously helped\non the work which you begun. My health does not improve, which would be\na great trial to me if I were not learning how to comfort myself.\" This\nwas very beautiful, very delightful, and though such complete dominance\nof one personality by another is not devoid of danger, the results in\nthis case appear to have justified the experiment. Francis' early bent\nto deep piety was greatly intensified during these years, and his views\nof disinterested or perfect love, so strongly brought out in later\ntimes, were scarcely more than the natural evolution of the thoughts and\nhabits drilled into him during this formative period. He greatly enjoyed\nthis home of piety and study. His love for the seminary never decayed.\nHe declared on his death-bed that he knew of no institution more\nvenerable or more apostolic.\n\nIt was while at the seminary that F\u00e9nelon thought he had a call to the\nmission field. The congregation of St. Sulpice had a large missionary\nestablishment at Montreal, and many of the students from the Paris house\nhad gone thither. It was natural, with his intense unworldliness, that\nhe should wish to follow in their footsteps, and in one of his descent\nit would not be surprising if the love of adventure was unconsciously\nmingled with a more religious ambition to show his love for the Savior\nby doing a great work for Him in a difficult field. How many have had\nthese longings, but have been providentially prevented from carrying\nthem out! In F\u00e9nelon's case difficulties at once sprung up. His uncle,\nthe Marquis Antoine, strongly objected on account of the delicacy of his\nconstitution, and another uncle, the Bishop of Sarlat, coincided with\nthis opinion. A letter on the subject to the bishop from M. Tronson,\ndated February, 1667, says, \"His strong, persisting inclination, the\nfirmness of his resolution, and the purity of his intentions have made\nme feel that they deserved attention, and led me to give you as exact a\nreport as may be of our action in the matter.\" The teacher had done his\nvery best to dissuade the youth from his purpose. \"I have told him\nplainly that if he can calm his longings and be quiet, he might, by\ngoing on with his studies and spiritual training, become more fitted to\nwork usefully hereafter for the Church.\" He adds, \"I perceive too\nconfirmed a resolution to have much hope of change.\" The feelings called\nout were so strong that persuasion seemed useless, and so the teacher\nappealed to the authority of the guardians; which proved sufficient to\nstop the rash enterprise.\n\nBut the missionary impulse still burned strongly in the breast of this\nenthusiastic youth, and it burst forth again a few years later. He\nreceived the tonsure, and entered holy orders in 1675, at the age of\ntwenty-four, and went for a while to work in the diocese of his uncle,\nthe Bishop of Sarlat. It was at this time that his thoughts were turned\nto the Levant. A letter of October 9, 1675, sets forth somewhat\nrhapsodically his excited feelings: \"I long to seek out that Areopagus\nwhence St. Paul preached the unknown God to heathen sages.... Neither\nwill I forget thee, O island consecrated by the heavenly visions of the\nbeloved disciple! O blessed Patmos, I will hasten to kiss the footsteps\nleft on thee by the apostle, and to imagine heaven open to my gaze!...\nAlready I see schism healed; East and West reunited; Asia awaking to the\nlight after her long sleep; the Holy Land, once trodden by our Savior's\nfeet and watered by his blood, delivered from profaners and filled with\nnew glory; the children of Abraham, more numerous than the stars, now\nscattered over the face of the earth, gathered from all her quarters to\nconfess the Christ they crucified, and to rise again with him.\" This was\ndecidedly visionary, and somewhat overwrought; but it shows at least a\nheart on fire to do something extraordinary for God, and this he had at\nall periods of his life. He did not go to Greece and Palestine,\nabandoning the project in deference to the wishes of his family, to whom\nhe was extremely reluctant to give pain. It was a romantic dream rather\nthan a true vocation.\n\nIt is thought by some that he really went to Montreal at a later date.\nThe _Correspondence Litteraire_ of July 25, 1863,[2] gives a letter from\nthe archives of the French Ministry of Marine in the handwriting of\nColbert, the great Finance Minister of Louis XIV, who also had charge of\nthe department of commerce, dated in 1675, to Frontenac, Governor of\nCanada, in which Louis XIV says: \"I have blamed the action of Abb\u00e9\nF\u00e9nelon, and have ordered him not to return to Canada. But I ought to\nsay to you that it was difficult to institute a criminal proceeding\nagainst him or oblige the priests of the seminary of St. Sulpice at\nMontreal to testify against him; and it was necessary to remit the case\nto his bishop or the grand vicar to punish him by ecclesiastical\npenalties, or to arrest him and send him back to France by the first\nship.\" There was not then in France any other abb\u00e9 of that name, so far\nas is known. Somewhat confirmatory of it is the fact that Appleton's\nCyclopedia, in its account of the Society of St. Sulpice says, \"In 1668\nthe Sulpicians, Fran\u00e7ois de F\u00e9nelon and Claude Trouv\u00e9, founded the first\nIroquois mission at the western extremity of Lake Ontario, but their\nlabors were confined principally to the Indians near Montreal.\" The\ndates do not harmonize; but it may be that, in some irregular way that\ndid not commend itself to the authorities, our hero was for a time in\nCanada; but if so, it is very singular that it left so little trace upon\nhis life.\n\nHe gave himself for some three years after his ordination to labors in\nthe parish of St. Sulpice, living still at the seminary, and endeavoring\nto spread the light of his faith among the poor wherever he could reach\nthem best, whether in prisons and hospitals or their own quarters. It\nwas good training for him in many ways, enlarging his sympathies,\ndeepening his views of life, and bringing him into touch with children\nas well as women. Doubtless he gathered in these years--for he had quick\npowers of observation and a very active mind--much of that amazing\nknowledge concerning these classes which surprised his friends when he\ncame subsequently to pour forth in letters or books the wisest of\ncounsels on education and kindred topics. M. Languet, cur\u00e9 of the parish\nat this time, was said to distribute more than a million francs in alms\nyearly, while his own room was furnished with nothing more than a coarse\nbed and two straw chairs. Under such guidance F\u00e9nelon could not fail to\nlearn many useful lessons, and to become still more completely fitted\nfor the great career which was soon to open before him.\n\nIt was in 1678 that F\u00e9nelon, while attending quietly to his duties at\nthe parish of St. Sulpice, preaching on Sundays and visiting among the\npoor during the week, received the important appointment of superior to\nthe community called the Nouvelles Catholiques, or New Catholics. He was\ntwenty-seven at this time, and had developed into a very lovable,\ncharming, attractive, and every way promising young man. His high birth,\nsolid education, brilliant parts, spotless life, eloquence of speech,\nand influential friends, all tended to bring him forward into the public\neye. The words of the Chancellor d'Aguesseau on F\u00e9nelon, found in the\nmemoirs of the life of his father, although applying perhaps in fullest\nmeasure a little later, may be inserted here, as showing what it must\nhave been felt, by discerning observers, he would erelong become.\n\n\"F\u00e9nelon,\" says the chancellor, \"was one of those uncommon men who are\ndestined to give luster to their age; and who do equal honor to human\nnature by their virtues, and to literature by their superior talent. He\nwas affable in his deportment and luminous in his discourse, the\npeculiar qualities of which were a rich, delicate, and powerful\nimagination, but which never let its power be felt. His eloquence had\nmore of mildness in it than of vehemence; and he triumphed as much by\nthe charms of his conversation as by the superiority of his talents. He\nalways brought himself to the level of his company; he never entered\ninto disputation, and he sometimes appeared to yield to others at the\nvery time that he was leading them. Grace dwelt upon his lips. He\ndiscussed the greatest subjects with facility; the most trifling were\nennobled by his pen; and upon the most barren he scattered the flowers\nof rhetoric. The peculiar but unaffected mode of expression which he\nadopted made many persons believe that he possessed universal knowledge\nas if by inspiration. It might indeed have been almost said that he\nrather invented what he knew than learned it. He was always original and\ncreative, imitating no one, and himself inimitable. A noble singularity\npervaded his whole person, and a certain undefinable and sublime\nsimplicity gave to his appearance the air of a prophet.\" His personal\nappearance has been well sketched by one of his contemporaries, the Duke\nde St. Simon, a satirical, misanthropical, utterly worldly man.\n\"F\u00e9nelon,\" says St. Simon, \"was a tall man, thin, well-made, and with a\nlarge nose. From his eyes issued the fire and animation of his mind,\nlike a torrent; and his countenance was such that I never yet beheld any\none similar to it, nor could it ever be forgotten if once seen. It\ncombined everything, and yet with everything in harmony. It was grave,\nand yet alluring; it was solemn, and yet gay; it bespoke equally the\ntheologian, the bishop, and the nobleman. Everything which was visible\nin it, as well as in his whole person, was delicate, intellectual,\ngraceful, becoming, and, above all, noble. It required an effort to\ncease looking at him. All the portraits are strong resemblances, though\nthey have not caught that harmony which was so striking in the original,\nand that individual delicacy which characterized each feature. His\nmanners were answerable to his countenance. They had that air of ease\nand urbanity which can be derived only from intercourse with the best\nsociety, and which diffused itself over all his discourse. He possessed\na natural eloquence, graceful and finished, and a most insinuating yet\nnoble and proper courtesy; an easy, clear, agreeable utterance; a\nwonderful power of explaining the hardest matters in a lucid, distinct\nmanner. Add to all this that he was a man who never sought to seem\ncleverer than those with whom he conversed, who brought himself\ninsensibly to their level, putting them at their ease, and enthralling\nthem so that one could neither leave him nor distrust him, nor help\nseeking him again. It was this rare gift which he possessed to the\nutmost degree which bound all his friends so closely to him all his life\nin spite of his disgrace at court, and which led them, when scattered,\nto gather together to talk of him, regret him, long after him, and cling\nmore and more to him, like the Jews to Jerusalem, and sigh and hope for\nhis return, even as that unhappy race waits and sighs for their\nMessiah.\"\n\nThe community of the New Catholics had been founded in 1634 by\nArchbishop Gondi, as a protection for women converted from\nProtestantism, and as a means of propagating Church teachings among\nthose yet unconverted. It was conducted by a community of women who did\nthe work of Sisters of Charity outside its walls, and was presided over\nby a priest selected by the Archbishop of Paris. Marshal Turenne,\nhimself a recent convert, gave largely to it, and the king, who was\nwilling to combine gentle means with harsh for the accomplishment of his\npurposes in bringing all his subjects into one faith, took great\ninterest in it. Hitherto the post of superior had been filled by much\nolder men, but, though only twenty-seven, F\u00e9nelon was found to combine\nall those qualities which fitted him for the employment--distinguished\ntalents, education, amiable manners, unusual prudence and discretion,\nmuch love to God, and great benevolence to man. The archbishop who\nselected him, M. de Harlai, was, as we have already noted, by no means\nof F\u00e9nelon's stamp. He was a courtier, a man of the world, regardless of\nmorality, and ever scheming for his own advancement. Having noted the\ncapability of F\u00e9nelon, perhaps he thought, by making him a sort of\nproteg\u00e9, he could attach him to his interests, obtain credit by his\nsuccesses, and use him for his purposes. But if he thought this he did\nnot show his usual discernment; for F\u00e9nelon, though willing to accept\nthe office assigned, which gave promise of large usefulness, was in no\nway attracted by the character of his patron, and no considerations of\nexpediency could induce him to pay court in that direction.\nConsequently, De Harlai's early liking changed erelong to pronounced\nenmity. He noticed the absence of F\u00e9nelon from his levees, and when he\ndid present himself at a certain reception, rebuked him with the words,\n\"It seems that you desire to be forgotten, M. l'Abb\u00e9, and you will be.\"\nF\u00e9nelon's friendship also with Bossuet became established about this\ntime, and this doubtless increased the animosity of the archbishop, as\nthe two were rivals for the favor of the king, on which the coveted\npromotion to the cardinalate, which each desired, so largely depended.\n\nIt was probably owing, somewhat at least, to this unfriendly influence\non the part of De Harlai that F\u00e9nelon received no appointment which\ncould supply him with funds; for the post of Superior carried no salary,\nand until 1681 he continued to be entirely dependent for everything upon\nhis uncle, the marquis. In that year his uncle, the Bishop of Sarlat,\nresigned to him the deanery of Carenac, at Quercy, on the Dordogne, and\nthis small benefice, producing between 3,000 and 4,000 livres\nannually--about $2,000 a year of modern money--was the only revenue\nF\u00e9nelon possessed for a long time, until, indeed, his forty-third year.\nOn leaving the Sulpician seminary, he took up his abode with his uncle,\nthe Marquis de F\u00e9nelon, in the Abbey of St. Germain, and gave himself up\nas entirely to his work as if he had not been brought into so much\ncloser proximity to the court and the world of Paris. He avoided general\nsociety, only living intimately with some few chosen friends. His uncle\nwas able to introduce him into a rare circle, prominent in which were\nthe Duke and Duchess of Beauvilliers, and the Duke and Duchess of\nChevreuse (the two ladies were sisters, daughters of the great finance\nminister, Colbert), Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, and Madame de Maintenon.\nWe must say a few words about these people, for they had much to do with\nF\u00e9nelon through all his subsequent life.\n\n\"The Duke de Beauvilliers,\" says St. Simon, \"was early touched by God,\nand never lost His presence, but lived entirely in the future world,\nindifferent to place and cabal and worldly advantage, content, when\ncalled to the council-board, simply to state his true opinion, without\nmuch caring whether it was followed or not.\" Punctual and orderly almost\nto excess, he controlled his household with vigilant kindness, and took\non his shoulders, as the king himself bore witness, a load of\nadministrative details that would have killed four other men. In society\nhe was rather shy and stiff by nature, as well as on principle\nexceedingly careful to set a close guard on eyes and ears and lips, so\nthat even when, as a principal minister, he was the observed of all\nobservers, surrounded by princes and nobles, he repelled by his reserve.\nHe had been at court nearly all his life, having early succeeded Marshal\nVilleroy as head of the Council of Finance, and being also first\ngentleman of the chamber. He had also been governor of Havre. He was\ncalled to the treasury in 1685, and to the council-board in 1691. He was\nacknowledged on all sides to be a man of remarkable piety and purity of\nlife, and, as a courtier, without reproach--a very rare thing in those\ndays. His chief fault was his timidity, and his excessive subserviency\nto the king. But when his conscience was aroused he could show a\nboldness that was most admirable, and all the more to be commended\nbecause somewhat foreign to his nature. He remained true as steel to\nF\u00e9nelon to his dying day, his friendship never wavering or showing\ndiminution, even when the latter was banished from court, and all his\nfriends were in a measure under the ban because of the king's fierce\nanger. In later years the king did his best to separate the two, even\nsending for the duke and explicitly threatening him with a like fate to\nthat of his friend if he did not give him up. But the duke replied, with\ndignity and feeling: \"Sire, you have placed me where I am, and you can\ndisplace me. I shall accept the will of my sovereign as the voice of\nGod, and I should retire from court at your bidding regretting your\ndispleasure, but hoping to lead a more peaceful life in retirement.\"\nThis manly, uncompromising stand made a deep impression on the king,\nwho, in spite of his liking for his own way, knew that he could hardly\nafford to spare so faithful and conscientious a servant; nothing more\nwas said about the matter.\n\nHis brother-in-law, the Duke de Chevreuse, was different in disposition,\nthough equally devoted to religion. He was abler, broader-minded, better\ninformed, more genial and witty, but less systematic, and a very poor\nbusiness man. He had no fixed hours for anything, and was always\nbehindhand. Had it not been for the king he must have died a beggar; for\nhe had little of his own, and his wife's large fortune was wasted on\ncostly but futile experiments, such as canals made at enormous expense\nto float down the timber from woods which he sold before even a tree was\nfelled. He was charming in his manners, and was not simply loved, but\nadored by his family, and friends, and servants. Throughout his\ntroubles, which were many, he was never for a moment cast down, but\noffered up his all to God and fixed his eyes on Him. \"Never man\npossessed his soul in peace as he did,\" wrote St. Simon, \"as the\nScripture says, 'He carried it in his hands.'\" He was even nearer to\nF\u00e9nelon in some ways than the other duke, and equally stanch in his\nattachment. He had no special portfolio in the ministry, but was\nconsulted by the king about most departments, and was very highly\nesteemed by him.\n\nThe two sisters, wives of these dukes--there were indeed three, the\nthird having married the Duke de Mortemart, but of this family we hear\nalmost nothing--were linked by the strongest bonds of sympathy and\naffection, and the three families lived in the closest union of\nprinciple and action, which gave them great strength amid the\nprofligate, time-serving court. Twice a week there were dinners at the\nHotel de Beauvilliers, where the society was at once select,\nintellectual, and devout. A bell was on the table, and no servant was\npresent, that they might converse without restraint. It was in this\nsociety that F\u00e9nelon, being introduced, became speedily the leader. He\nwas accepted by the two dukes, not as director simply but as spiritual\nmaster, as the mind of their mind, says St. Simon, the soul of their\nsoul, the sovereign ruler of their heart and conscience. Such he\nremained all his days. F\u00e9nelon and the Beauvilliers had not been long\nacquainted before the duchess, mother of eight daughters, begged him to\nset down some rules for the guidance of their education. This request is\na proof not only of the versatility of his powers, but of the strength\nof his faculty of intuition, that a court lady should have turned to him\nfor help in such matters. He had been educated from childhood to his\nsacred calling, shut off from any experience of some of the strongest of\nlife's influences, and therefore on some accounts might seem poorly\nfitted to prove an apt adviser; but it was strongly felt that he\npossessed the secret of truest wisdom, that what he taught was drawn\nfrom too high a source to be greatly affected by the limits of personal\nexperience. Throughout his life, indeed, it was his power of sympathy,\nof entering into the difficulties of others, of realizing temptations\nthat can never have been present with him, that made his influence so\ncomprehensive--a power rarer and more marvelous than the greatest of\nintellectual gifts.\n\nThe work on the education of girls, which grew out of the duchess's\nrequest, swelled into a considerable compass, and was first published in\n1687. It greatly increased his reputation, revealing a knowledge of\nchild-nature which was most remarkable, and taking advanced ground in\nmany particulars. He showed himself a thoroughgoing reformer, breaking\naway from the trammels of medi\u00e6val education that so long and so\ndisastrously had ruled. There is hardly a page of it which might not\nafford profitable study for parents at the present day. It still holds a\nhigh position among works on this subject. His deep love for children\nsharpened his keen observation of all that concerned them. He severely\nreprobated the fashion of leaving them with uneducated persons; for he\nregarded the earliest years as of unspeakable importance in the\nformation of character.\n\n\"Never let them show themselves off,\" he says, \"but do not be worried by\ntheir questions; rather encourage them; they are the most natural\nopportunities of teaching.\" He discovered that children are always\nwatching others, endowed with a great faculty of imitation, so that it\nis impossible to over-estimate the responsibility of their first\nguardians. He recognized the necessity of discipline; but if the child\nhas merited disgrace, he pleads that there should be some one to whom\nshe can turn for sympathy, thus showing that he had fathomed that\noverwhelming sense of loneliness which is one of childhood's chief\nterrors. He says: \"Make study pleasant, hide it under a show of liberty\nand amusement. Let the children interrupt their lessons sometimes with\nlittle jokes; they need such distraction to rest their brain. Never fear\nto give them reasons for everything. Never give extra lessons as a\npunishment.\" His method was to treat children as reasonable beings\ninstead of unruly animals whom it was necessary to coerce against their\nwill; and his object was to make them regard learning as a privilege and\ndelight, not as a penance forced upon them by the tyranny of their\nelders. He made religion the groundwork of all education, but he would\nhave it guarded against superstition. He stood strongly for the true,\nbest rights of women, counting their occupations no less important to\nthe public than those of men. He would give the young girl useful solid\ntastes that would fill her mind with real interests and prevent idle\ncuriosity and the dissipations of romance-reading. \"Give them something\nto manage, on condition that they give you an account of it,\" he pleads;\n\"they will be delighted with the confidence, for it gives an incredible\npleasure to the young when one begins to rely upon them and admit them\nto serious concerns.\"\n\nThis will suffice to show something of the trend of his work. Much that\nhe urged is, of course, commonplace now, but it was not so in his day.\nHe shows in his book so much knowledge of the needs and characteristics\nof little children not only, but of the special difficulties and\ninfirmities of women, that it remains a marvel where, at this period of\nhis life, he could have gained such insight into both. And all is\nillumined with his beautiful style and gentle spirit. Mr. John Morley\nremarks, \"When we turn to modern literature from F\u00e9nelon's pages, who\ndoes not feel that the world has lost a sacred accent, as if some\nineffable essence had passed out from our hearts?\"\n\nMadame de Maintenon has been mentioned as one of the little circle to\nwhose intimacy F\u00e9nelon was introduced when beginning his Parisian\ncareer. The full particulars of her remarkable history must be sought in\nlarger works. Yet it is essential that we know something concerning her,\nsince for a while she was one of F\u00e9nelon's best supporters, and then\nbecame one of his most persistent foes. She was the grandchild of\nTheodore Agrippa d'Aubigne, a noted Protestant warrior and a noble\nfriend of Henry of Navarre, who died at Geneva in 1630.[3] Her father\nwas a scamp, her mother a jailer's daughter. She was a stout Protestant\nin her younger days, but being left penniless at an early age, and\nwholly dependent upon charitable relatives, she was placed in a Parisian\nconvent, and there converted to Catholicism. She was still only\nseventeen and uncommonly good-looking when, to escape the pressure of\ndependence, she consented to become the wife of Scarron, a writer of\ncomic poetry and a cripple. So Frances d'Aubigne became Madame Scarron,\nand somewhat improved her position. Her husband died in five years,\nleaving her a pension. Falling in with Madame de Montespan, the king's\nmistress, that lady took a liking to her, and it was not long before she\nwas established at a fine house in one of the suburbs, with a large\nincome and a numerous staff of servants, as governess of the king's\nillegitimate children by this mistress. At the end of four years the\nchildren, with their governess, were housed in the palace, and the\ninfluence of the said governess over the king, who was naturally thrown\nmuch in contact with her, steadily increased. By the savings from her\nsalary and the presents of the king she was able to purchase the estate\nof Maintenon, not far from Paris, and the king, who never had liked the\nharsh name of Scarron, soon began to call her Madame de Maintenon, which\nhenceforth became her title. In the midst of all the vicissitudes of her\nlife she had maintained a good character, inheriting much from her\ngrandfather, and now she became yet more austere in her piety. The Abb\u00e9\nGobelin, a severe Jesuit confessor, directed her conscience, and Bossuet\nimpressed his strong personality upon her. They persuaded her that she\nwas the chosen instrument for the conversion of the king. So she set\nherself to the task, finding it on many accounts congenial, and\nachieving a remarkable degree of success. There seems to have been in\nthe complex character of the king, in spite of his many sins, no little\nregard for religion--it is said that he never missed going to mass but\nonce in his life--and he was already weary of Montespan, whose influence\non him was unquestionably evil. So the new influence more and more\nprevailed; the mistress was dismissed to a convent, and the wise,\ndevout, good-looking governess became a power at court, first lady in\nwaiting to the crown princess, and female friend to the monarch. The\nking spent hours daily in her company, and was the better for it. She\nwas a strict moralist, and none of the slanders rife about her seem to\nhave any good foundation. She enjoyed the respect of the best people\nabout the court, and was a friend of the neglected queen, who cried,\n\"Providence has raised up Madame de Maintenon to bring my husband back\nto me.\" And this new favorite, who was not a mistress, believed\nabundantly in the divine nature of her mission. She accepted the king's\nfriendship to give him good counsels and end his slavery to vice. The\ncare of his salvation became the first and most absorbing of her duties.\nShe held herself a monitress, charged to encourage and console him, or\nto check him with reproaches that none but she dared utter. He called\nher \"Your Seriousness.\" She never annoyed him with opposition, never\nencroached, had no will of her own, but became, as it were, the king's\nconception of his better self, his second conscience, a magnet quick to\ndraw him, sometimes into the really worthier of two opposing courses,\nalways into the more ecclesiastically virtuous. The queen died in her\narms in 1683. Two years after, she was privately married to the king by\nthe Archbishop of Paris in the presence of P\u00e8re Lachaise, the king's\nconfessor, after whom the famous cemetery in Paris is named. Such was\nthe woman who ruled at Versailles when F\u00e9nelon came into office. He\nexcited her interest on their first meeting, at or before 1683; for she\nwrote, under that date, to Madame de St. Geran: \"Your Abb\u00e9 de F\u00e9nelon is\nvery well received; but the world does not do him justice. He is feared;\nhe wishes to be loved; and is lovable.\"\n\nWe must briefly introduce one more personage to our readers before we\ncan safely resume the current of the narrative. Jacques B\u00e9nigne Bossuet,\nwho was for a while F\u00e9nelon's friend and then became the bitterest of\nhis foes, was born at Dijon, 1627. In his boyhood he was a brilliant\nscholar. At Paris he soon surpassed his teachers in acquirements. He\ntook the Doctor's bonnet in 1652, and in the same year was received into\npriest's orders. He was first canon to the cathedral of Metz; in 1669,\nBishop of Condom; in 1681, bishop of Meaux. In 1670 he was appointed\npreceptor to the dauphin, and gave most of his time for ten years to\nthis office, resigning his bishopric for the purpose. In the pulpit his\noratorical powers elicited universal applause. His celebrated Funeral\nDiscourses, six in number, were, and still are, accounted masterpieces\nof rhetorical skill. Two words, strength and majesty, describe the\ndominant characteristics of his oratory. He had a mind well stored with\nnoble sentiments. His sermons were almost entirely extempore, springing\nfrom a mind filled with his subject, guided by a few notes on paper.\nAttracted by the strength and sublimity of the Bible he moved largely\nwithin its circle of thought, rather than with saints, relics, and\nimages, which were for the most part below the plane of his vision.\nBesides being one of the first preachers of the age, he was a celebrated\npolemic and a powerful writer, having also a Roman aptitude to rule. One\nof the strongest personalities which the French Church has produced, he\nexercised a commanding influence in various directions. The principles\nof Gallicanism as opposed to Ultramontanism found in him their stalwart\nchampion. He was a famous apologist. His knowledge was completely at\ncommand, so that he did not shrink from oral disputation with the most\nlearned adversaries. And he wielded a very strong pen. His \"Exposition\nof the Catholic Faith\" presents the doctrines of Rome in a liberal and\nplausible form. In his \"History of the Variations of the Protestant\nChurches,\" and also in other treatises, he made out what was considered\nat the time a very strong defense of the Roman Catholic faith, but he\nhas since been convicted, not merely of inaccuracy, but of false and\ngarbled quotations. He died in 1704.\n\nBossuet, it will be seen, was twenty-four years older than F\u00e9nelon, and\nfor a time was almost a father to him. At the zenith of his great\nreputation he was much attracted by the younger man and took great pains\nto attach him to himself. He invited him often, with one or two others,\nto his country residence at Germigny. They had stated hours of prayer\nand private study and relaxation, and in these last periods the bishop\ntook pleasure in unfolding to his humbler companions all his sacred and\nliterary stores of knowledge. Nothing could exceed the bishop's regard\nfor F\u00e9nelon, or F\u00e9nelon's fondness for the bishop. The intercourse with\na masculine intellect so much more developed than his own was, no doubt,\na benefit to F\u00e9nelon, as well as a high compliment to him, for it\ncompelled him to think for himself and brace himself somewhat in order\nto take a worthy part in the conversation. One can but regret that the\nfriendship which seemed so suitable, and was prolific of such advantage\nto the Church, as well as mutual pleasure between these two great and\ngood men, should in a few years, largely through misapprehensions and\nverbal disagreements, have been turned to bitterness and scandal.\n\nIt is probable that the ten years during which F\u00e9nelon held the post of\nsuperior at the New Catholics was the sunniest of his life. It was at\nleast the freest from difficulties and complications. He was discovering\nthe large possibilities of his own powers, developing healthfully in all\ndirections, with a pleasant occupation, bright prospects, and an\never-widening circle of friends, who looked to him as an influence for\ngood, and increasingly hung upon his words. He was called in this period\nto mourn the loss of his dear uncle, the marquis, who had been in many\nways, both spiritually and temporally, such a help to him, and who\npassed away October 8, 1683. Just how much he had to do in these years\nat the convent is not clear. It seems likely that he was little more\nthan warden or visitor, in general charge of the instruction, the other\nmatters being managed by the mother superior acting under the minute\ndirections of the government. For converting to the old faith those who\nhad been born and trained in heresy--many of them, it would appear,\nbrought there early, against their will, or in violation of the proper\nrights of their parents--F\u00e9nelon was marvelously equipped, knowing the\ncontroversy perfectly, and knowing also what points to touch upon with\ninfinite tact, what appeals would be most effective in individual cases,\nwhat arguments to use, what influences to exert, what spirit to exhibit.\nHe undoubtedly proved himself the tenderest and most persuasive of\nadvocates and ministers, modifying, so far as possible, the harshness of\nthe state which he was powerless to prevent.\n\nIt was his success at the head of this institution which called forth\nthe next commission with which the king honored him, and which brought\nhim into yet closer connection with the troubled current of affairs. In\norder the better to understand it we shall do well to pause at this\npoint and consider for a little the ecclesiastical and political\ncondition of France, and to some degree of the world at large.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER II.\n                      THE SETTING OF THE PICTURE.\n\n\nIt is absolutely essential, in studying any character, that we take into\ncareful account the age and land in which he lived. We can not rightly\nestimate his merits or demerits unless we know the circumstances under\nwhich he was brought up, and the influences to which he was subjected.\nThe background of the picture has large importance for showing off in\nproper light the principal figure. The setting of the gem has something\nto do with our appreciation of its value. Deeds which in one century\nwould cover their perpetrator with infamy, in another would be regarded\nas wholly excusable. The amount of light afforded strictly measures the\namount of guilt involved. Unavoidable ignorance exculpates. Fullness of\nknowledge imposes responsibility. No greater mistake could be made than\nto judge people irrespective of their surroundings. Moreover, it adds\nimmensely to our interest in any person if we can, to some degree at\nleast, look out upon the world with his eyes, see what he saw, and so be\nhelped to feel as he felt. We become the better acquainted with him in\nproportion as we are able to put ourselves in his place. We can\ncertainly estimate him more equitably according as we reproduce to our\nmind the scenes of his day.\n\nThis being so, before we go further with the personal history of F\u00e9nelon\nthe Saint we shall do well to spend a little while familiarizing\nourselves with the world of his day both civil and ecclesiastical. How\nwere matters in Church and State during the period in which this great\nman flourished? What was going on among the nations in general, and in\nFrance particularly? A brief survey seems necessary to give us the right\npoint of view. Since F\u00e9nelon was born in 1651, the second half of the\nseventeenth century would appear to be in the main his epoch. What was\nthe condition of things throughout Christendom then?\n\nIn America the middle of the seventeenth century saw the English making\ngood their foothold on the rude Atlantic shore, in Virginia,\nMassachusetts, New York, and a few other points, contending with the\nIndians, the Dutch, and the home government, jealous of their liberties,\nextending their trade, and inaugurating great enterprises. It was in\n1656 that the Quakers arrived in Boston. A bloody persecution sprung up\nagainst them in the few years following, and four were put to death. It\nwas still later in the century, 1692, that the horrible proceedings\nagainst witchcraft took place in Salem, where many were most unjustly\nhanged, and many more tortured into confession of abominable falsehoods.\nIt is well to remember this when we grow indignant over the persecution\nof the Huguenots in France. Further north, in Acadie, or Nova Scotia,\nand Canada, the French had already explored the St. Lawrence and the\ngreat lakes, made some feeble settlements, and converted some of the\nIndians. Their missionaries and adventurers were full of heroism and\nzeal. Later in the century they discovered the Mississippi, and claimed\nall the territory in that Western region from its source to its mouth,\ncalling it, after the great king, Louisiana.\n\nIn England, 1650 saw Oliver Cromwell in pretty complete possession of\npower, Charles I having been beheaded the year before. In 1651 the royal\narmy was totally defeated at Worcester, and Charles II soon after\nescaped in disguise to France to come back triumphantly in 1660, when\nthe Lord Protector had passed away. During the Commonwealth Roman\nCatholics were deprived of the privilege of voting or holding office,\nand the use of the Prayer-book was forbidden to Episcopalians. It was in\nthe short reign of James II (1685-88) that Judge Jeffreys wrote his name\nwith letters of blood in the annals of English history. When the people\nturned to William of Orange, the perfidious and tyrannical James was\nforced to flee with his family to France, and spent the remainder of his\ndays at St. Germain, a pensioner on the bounty of Louis XIV. Anne, the\nyounger daughter of James II, reigned over England from 1701 to 1714.\n\nOn the continent of Europe the terrible Thirty Years' War (1618-1648)\nbetween Protestants and Catholics, memorable for the brave deeds of\nGustavus Adolphus, had just closed in the Peace of Westphalia, by which\nBrandenburg--the forerunner of Prussia--was enlarged, and Saxony\nstrengthened, while Switzerland and the low countries, or Netherlands,\nwere acknowledged as independent States. The Belgic Provinces, between\nthe Netherlands and France, divided among themselves, remained\nsubmissive to Spain and the Roman Catholic Church. They became involved\nin the wars attending the decline of the Spanish monarchy, and during\nthe remainder of the century were the theater of fierce struggles\nbetween contending armies, and were subjected to many changes of\nboundaries.\n\nCentral Europe, where were the States of Bohemia, Bavaria, Moravia,\nAustria, and smaller principalities, was loosely confederated into the\nGerman Empire under the Imperial Diet at Frankfort. Ferdinand III at\nthis time held the imperial dignity. His death was followed by the long\nreign of Leopold I (1657-1705). He attacked the Turks on the East and\nthe French monarch on the West. From the former he obtained a great\nstretch of territory, and in the combination which kept down the\ntowering ambition of the latter he was one of the chief factors. In the\nNorth was the strong kingdom of Sweden--soon to be made still stronger\nby the victories of Charles X--and the weak kingdom of Denmark. On the\nEast were Poland and Russia and the Turk. On the South were Spain,\nPortugal, and Italy. Portugal, after a most honorable history had been\nannexed by Philip II to the Spanish realm; but in 1640, after a forced\nunion of one hundred and sixty years, it was freed by a bold and\nsuccessful conspiracy of the nobles, from all connection with Spain,\nalthough its independence was not formally recognized till 1668. Spain\nhad wholly lost her former headship in European politics and was in a\nbad way under the last rulers of the Hapsburg dynasty, bigoted,\nintolerant, incompetent; disordered finances, impaired industries--due\nlargely to the barbarous expulsion of the Moors--and inferior military\nforces left her in the second rank of powers.\n\nItaly was a mere geographical expression, the territory being split up\nunder the rule of petty princes largely swayed by foreign influence;\nmuch of the country indeed was under direct foreign dominion. Among the\nnative rulers the Dukes of Savoy were perhaps the most enterprising and\nsuccessful. Venice maintained a fair degree of prosperity. Naples was an\nappanage of the Spanish crown. The popes had larger territorial\npossessions, in the center of the country, than at any previous or\nsubsequent time. But this local importance was more than offset by loss\nin the larger sphere of influence and prerogative. Convenience, indeed,\noccasionally led a prominent sovereign to submit some question to the\npapal judgment; in many instances his wishes were openly disregarded,\nand in the leading questions of European politics no deference was paid\nhim.\n\nAn interesting episode occurring just at this time perhaps deserves\nmention. Queen Christina of Sweden, the talented but eccentric daughter\nof the great Gustavus Adolphus, in 1654 abdicated her throne in favor of\nher cousin, quitted the land of her fathers, was solemnly admitted into\nthe Roman Catholic Church at Innspruck, and established her permanent\nresidence in Rome till her death in 1689. The pope, Alexander VII,\nconsidered it the special distinction of his pontificate that he was\npermitted to welcome so distinguished a convert; but she did not prove\nin all things wholly satisfactory, not finding matters quite as she\nexpected--a frequent experience in such cases. To Gilbert Burnet, the\nEnglish Bishop of Salisbury, who paid her a visit, she said, \"It was\ncertain that the Church was governed by the immediate care of God, for\nnone of the four popes that she had known since she came to Rome had\ncommon sense.\" She called them \"the first and the last of men.\"\n\nThe history of France during the period in which F\u00e9nelon flourished must\nbe given at somewhat greater length if we would properly comprehend the\npart which he took on the stage of action. And especially must we attend\nto the character of Louis XIV, with whom F\u00e9nelon was brought into such\nexceeding close and fateful relations. Louis came to the throne in 1643,\nbut as he was then only five years old he did not assume personal charge\nof the government. Cardinal Mazarin, who had succeeded the great\nRichelieu at his death in 1642, was chief minister in the Council of\nState which advised the Queen Mother and regent, Anne of Austria. On the\ndeath of Mazarin in 1661, Louis took supreme direction of affairs, and\nretained it until his death in 1715. It was a very long and, in some\nrespects, a very successful reign, the most illustrious in French\nannals; a sort of Solomonic era, to be compared with the age of Pericles\nin Greece, Augustus in Rome, and Elizabeth in England. It was brilliant\nin many directions; an age of conquest and the extension of territory\nabroad; an age of great personalities in literature and art at home.\nAmong the latter are the well-known names of Corneille, the tragic poet;\nMoliere, the master of comedy; Racine, La Fontaine, La Rochefoucauld, La\nBruyere, Pascal, Malebranche, and Madame de S\u00e9vign\u00e9. Voltaire and\nRousseau were born during this reign, but mainly flourished later. Among\neminent painters were Poussin, Claude Lorrain, Lebrun, and Mignard. As\narchitects, Mansart and Perrault were famous; among sculptors, Piget;\namong composers, Lulli. Celebrated in the pulpit were Bossuet,\nBourdaloue, Massillon, and Flechier; as Church historians, Natalis\nAlexander, Fleury, and Tillemont. In the field the prestige of the\nFrench armies was upheld by the genius of Turenne, Cond\u00e9, Vauban,\nLuxemburg, and Catinat. Under these marshals many victories were won in\nan almost constant succession of wars with Spain, Holland, England, the\nEmpire, and other antagonists. The peace which Louis dictated to Europe\nat Nimeguen, February 5, 1679, raised him to his highest point of power\nand glory. The headship of the world seemed to be within his grasp, if\nindeed it was not already attained. His courtiers worshiped him as a\ndemigod; two triumphal arches were erected to his honor in Paris;\nforeign governments regarded him with keen apprehension or with servile\nawe. He excited wonder and fear throughout the continent, for his\nambitious projects of still vaster dominion seemed to threaten the\nsafety and independence of all his neighbors. He was possessed of a\nstrong mind, a resolute will, considerable sagacity and penetration,\nmuch aptitude for business, and an indefatigable industry. His powers of\napplication were remarkable. When he gave direction in 1661 that he\nwould be his own prime minister, that all business should pass through\nhis hands, and all questions be decided directly by himself, every one\nexpected that he would soon tire of the drudgery which this would\nimpose; but he kept it up till the end of his life, laboring regularly\nin his cabinet eight hours a day. He had the most extravagant ideas of\nthe royal prerogative. He was an absolute, irresponsible monarch,\naccustomed to say and mean, \"The State: it is myself.\" Even the property\nof the realm he considered as his. In an instruction to his son he\ndeclared, \"Kings are absolute lords and have naturally the full and free\ndisposal of all the goods possessed, as well by Churchmen as by laymen,\nto use them at all times according to the general need of their State.\"\nHaving this conception of his power, regarding his authority as\ndelegated immediately from heaven, he surrounded himself with those who\nwould be subservient to his will, and the one avenue of advancement was\nhis favor; without this, virtue and merit had little or no chance of\nrecognition. He made his court at Versailles a very splendid one,\neverywhere praised and admired as the model of taste and refinement. It\nbecame the center of fashion for Europe, and the only place of high\nattraction in the kingdom. Henri Martin, in his \"History of France,\"\nsays: \"Whoever had once tasted this life so brilliant, so animated, so\nvaried, could no longer quit it and return to his native manor without\ndying of languor and ennui. Everything seemed cold and dead away from\nthis place of enjoyment, which appeared, to town and province, as the\nvery ideal of human life.\" It is estimated that a sum, equal to more\nthan 400,000,000 francs at the present rate, was laid out on the palaces\nand pleasure-grounds of Versailles, transforming an unsightly district\ninto fairy-land.\n\nWas this Louis XIV, then, a really great man? Not when tried by tests\nthat go far and reach deep. As one has said: \"His claim to renown lies\nmore in the diligent and tireless ambition with which he improved\nfavoring circumstances than in the creation of great results out of\nsmall means by force of personal genius and energy. It is also a\nlimiting factor in our estimate of Louis that he exercised no care to\nhusband the resources of his country, and sacrificed to thirst for\npersonal display the chances of future prosperity. This imposing and\nbrilliant reign left France exhausted and harboring within herself the\ngerms of violent revolution.\" In the latter part of his reign the\ncoalition against him under Marlborough and Prince Eugene proved\neminently successful, and much of his ill-gotten acquisitions had to be\ndisgorged. Moreover, his reign was also a failure in that, for the sake\nof slight and temporary gains on the continent of Europe, he threw away\nthe opportunity to forestall in Asia and America the progress of\nEngland, so soon to pass France in the race for world supremacy, and\nleft his kingdom, at the close of his reign, exhausted and crippled, in\nno condition to enter upon the decisive stage of the great conflict\nwhose approach he did not foresee. Before his burial the eyes of\nFrenchmen had begun to be open to the shadowy side of his reign; the\nglamour and the glory could no longer hide the tyranny and the shame,\nand very few mourned at the death of the magnificent despot. He was far\nfrom great also in his private life; for that was, for a long time, one\nof unblushing licentiousness. Different mistresses were made\nsuccessively, and in part simultaneously, the rivals of his dishonored\nqueen, Maria Theresa of Spain, who died in 1683. No less than ten\nchildren were born to him out of wedlock, and publicly acknowledged.\nAfter the death of his queen he did somewhat better, being privately\nmarried to Madame de Maintenon, as already noted.\n\nThe cruel persecutions of the Huguenots must also be set down against\nthe king, although in this, surely, we should make much allowance\nbecause of the feeling of the age in such matters--a feeling not by any\nmeans the same as in our day. Louis, like many others before and since,\nendeavored to atone for the excesses and frailties of his private life\nby his public zeal for orthodoxy, fancying that the slaughter of\nheretics would offset his adulteries. His crowning crime was the\nrevocation of the Edict of Nantes. By this arbitrary act of unprovoked\ndespotism he annulled forever all the highly prized privileges granted\nto the Huguenots, after their large sufferings and heroic efforts in\nself-defense, by Henry IV and Louis XIII. He absolutely prohibited the\nexercise of their religion throughout the kingdom, with the sole\nexception of Alsace; ordered their temples to be leveled with the\nground, and their ministers to quit France within fifteen days; forbade\nthe people to follow their pastors into exile under pain of confiscation\nand condemnation to the galleys; and required their children to be\nbaptized henceforth by the Catholic priests and educated as members of\nthe Established Church. Before this, in the earlier years of the reign,\nstringent measures had been set in operation for the conversion of the\nProtestants and the establishment of uniformity of faith and Church\ngovernment throughout the kingdom. Louis was intolerant of dissent,\npartly from political motives. He could not brook that any of his\nsubjects should exercise so much independence and freedom of thought as\nwas involved in worshiping God or thinking about Him after a different\npattern from the one set by himself. They ought all to take their\nopinions from the throne, he held, in religious as well as in secular\nmatters, and because they did not they were extremely objectionable and\ndangerous. As early as 1656 a disposition was shown to interpret the\nEdict of Nantes--given by Henry IV, April 15, 1598--in a narrow partisan\nfashion, to the disadvantage of the Protestants. Numbers of the Reformed\nplaces of worship were shut up on frivolous pretenses. The worshipers\nwere excluded from all public functions, from the liberal professions,\nfrom the universities, from engaging in various branches of commerce and\nindustry. They were forbidden to intermarry with Catholics, and their\nchildren were encouraged to forsake the faith of their parents by being\ndeclared capable of choosing for themselves at the age of seven years.\nEvery sort of pressure was applied. A Bureau of Conversions was\nestablished under the direction of the Minister Pelissier, who disbursed\nthe funds intrusted to him at the rate of six livres for every\nabjuration of the Reformed religion. Milder measures not proving\nsufficiently efficacious and speedy, more severe and savage means were\nemployed. Dragoons were sent into the disturbed districts and quartered\non the inhabitants; they were permitted, and even encouraged, to abandon\nthemselves to every kind of brutal license, violence, and excess,\nestablishing a veritable reign of terror wherever they appeared. It is\nno wonder that, under these horrors, wearied and worried well-nigh to\ndeath by such intolerable impositions, great numbers of Huguenots\nrecanted, nominally, although, of course, their real beliefs were not\nchanged. And when the protecting Edict was formally revoked, still more\nfearful cruelties followed. Multitudes of the Reformed, obstinately\nrefusing obedience, were consigned to loathsome dungeons, racked with\nexquisite tortures, and treated with every kind of outrage short of\nactual murder. Numbers of females were immured for life in convents;\ninfants were torn from the arms of their mothers; their property was\ndestroyed, and whole districts were laid waste. How far the king was\nstrictly responsible for the whole of these horrors is a matter of some\nquestion; but it is certain that he received with great satisfaction the\nchorus of congratulations, on this memorable Catholic triumph, from the\ncourt sycophants, who hailed him as the new Constantine, and who\nincluded in their number such men as Bossuet, Massillon, Racine, and La\nFontaine. But Louis inflicted almost as deadly a blow upon his country\nby these persecutions as the rulers of Spain had upon theirs when they\ndrove out the Moors and Jews. France robbed herself of her best\ncitizens, the most enterprising and industrious of her skilled artisans.\nThey fled abroad to the number of at least a quarter of a million,\nescaping from France to enrich England, Holland, and other countries\nwith the fruits of their labors. Among them was the Duke of Schomberg,\none of the best generals of his time, who placed his sword at the\ndisposal of the Prince of Orange. Many also who remained were so\ncrippled and depressed that they could no longer render their best\nservice. Moreover, a bitter and profound resentment was kindled in the\nProtestant States of Europe, which acted very unfavorably upon the\nforeign relations of France, and strengthened the hands of the coalition\nagainst her. So, in every sense, the policy must be adjudged a mistaken\none, counting against the greatness of the king.\n\nIt is important to inquire what was the state of the French Church at\nthis period. It is impossible, of course, for us to enter into extended\ndetails, but we can hardly understand either F\u00e9nelon or his times\nwithout knowing something about the ecclesiastical religious questions\nwhich were then agitating the public mind. Religion was by no means in a\nstagnant state, or treated with indifference and apathy; it everywhere\nexcited keenest attention. No subject was more eagerly discussed or\noccupied a larger share of thought. Besides the general controversy\nbetween Protestants and Romanists, there were many divisions in the\nranks of the latter. There was fierce conflict between the Jesuits and\nJansenists, also between the Gallicans and Ultramontanists. For a full\nrecital of the story our readers will be obliged to consult Church\nhistories and cyclopedias.\n\nOf the Jesuits little need here be said; their history is very well\nknown. Established by Ignatius Loyola in 1540, the system was, in the\nperiod we are considering, something over a hundred years old, and\nnumbering about fifteen thousand members, of whom half were priests. Its\nleading purposes were the overthrow of Protestantism and the\nstrengthening of the papacy. It had a magnificent organization, it\nlargely controlled the education of the youth of the better classes of\nsociety, and it was intensely zealous in missionary operations, Francis\nXavier, so illustrious in this matter, being one of its original\nfounders. In politics it often favored popular rights, especially if it\nwould benefit the papacy by reducing the power of the sovereign; yet it\nusually secured control over the princes by obtaining their ear in the\nconfessional. In doctrine it was opposed to Augustinianism, and in\nethics became notorious for most dangerous looseness. It should not be\nforgotten, however, that the order had at all times many members eminent\nfor piety and strict morality, some of the highest saints being numbered\nwith them. In France the important office of confessor to the king was\nfilled by members of this order under Henry IV, Louis XIII, XIV, XV;\nand, of course, in this way an enormous influence was exercised upon the\nroyal policy at home and abroad. The connivance of these confessors with\nthe scandalous lives of the kings did more than anything else to\nundermine respect for the Roman Catholic Church and for religion in\ngeneral among the educated classes. Between the Jesuits and Jansenists\nthere was fierce war.\n\nThe latter took their name from Bishop Cornelius Jansen, of Ypern, who\ndied in 1638, after devoting his whole life to the study of the works of\nSt. Augustine. His followers were Augustinians in the fullest sense of\nthe term, accepting the extreme doctrines of election and predestination\nwhich are known among Protestants as Calvinism; but this in no way\npredisposed them to favor the Huguenots. On the contrary they seemed to\nhate them all the more because of this manifest approach to them in some\nof their principles, partly because it exposed them to a galling\ncriticism from the Jesuits. The Jansenists in many ways recommend\nthemselves to our approval. They opposed a simply formal righteousness,\ninsisted on the necessity for an inward preparation to receive benefits\nfrom the sacraments, and laid stress upon the reading of the Scriptures.\nIn regard to morals, they advocated rigid self-discipline, were foes of\nluxury, the theater, and other doubtful or noxious pleasures. They also\nhad more independence than most classes of society. They were not ready\nto surrender everything to the absolute sovereignty of the king; they\nstood for liberty in the Church. In point of ability and culture they\nfurnished some of the best minds of France, and some of the best models\nof literary excellence which the age could boast. Blaise Pascal, whose\n\"Provincial Letters\" (1656) against the Jesuits inflicted upon them so\nsevere a blow by their scathing exposures, was of this party. So was De\nSacy, who translated the Bible into the version in general use; and\nAntoine Arnauld, the celebrated scholar and Doctor of the Sorbonne, the\ntheological department of the University of Paris. His sister,\nJacqueline, became abbess of the convent of Port Royal near Paris, and\nmade it renowned for its purity and piety. Jansenism or \"Calvinistic\nCatholicism,\" as it has been called, finally went down before its\nenemies, the popes deciding against it more than once. On many accounts\nit deserved a better fate; but we can not regret that such a travesty of\nChristianity as the sole salvation of an arbitrarily limited and\neternally selected few was as conclusively defeated in the Roman\nCatholic Church as it has since been in the Protestant.\n\nThe Jesuits were Ultramontanes; that is, they did everything they could\nto strengthen the authority from beyond the mountains, residing in the\ncity on the Tiber. The Jansenists favored Gallicanism. A few words are\nnecessary about this latter, for it had a large place in the discussions\nof the time, and echoes of it have continued to our day, the long\nconflict coming to an end in the recent rupture of the Concordat between\nFrance and the Vatican. The quarrel is of very long standing. It is\nhistorically certain that at a very early period the National Church of\nFrance had a character of freedom peculiar to itself. The Frankish\nChurch in the time of Charlemagne gave evidence of a spirit and temper\nobviously different from the Italian ideal of the Church as organized\nunder the popes. The French Parliaments from time to time manfully\nresisted encroachments on their powers or those of their kings, from\nbeyond the mountains. As early as 1269, Louis IX of France issued an\nedict--so it is alleged--called the Pragmatic Sanction, in which he\nstrove to protect the freedom of Church elections and the rights of\npatrons from the interference of the popes, and forbade papal taxation\nwithout the consent of the monarch. This conflict went on through the\ncenturies with various incidents and differing results, which need not\nhere be followed, although it is a very interesting story. In the time\nof Louis XIV matters naturally came to a head through the determination\nof that monarch to extend his absolute authority over the Church as well\nas the State, and through the support which he received from the strong\nfeeling of nationality which dominated the French people during his\nreign, Louis's aim was to exercise such power in ecclesiastical matters\nin France as Henry VIII had taken to himself in England, but not to\neffect a complete rupture with Rome. In particular he determined to\nenforce the right of the crown to the revenue and the patronage\nconnected with vacant sees, which had long been exercised over a large\npart of the realm; he insisted on extending it to all the provinces. An\nassembly of the clergy was called in 1682, under the lead of Bossuet,\nthe chief champion of the king in these matters. Four important articles\nformulating the opposition of France to the high claims of the papacy\nwere drawn up by Bossuet, subscribed to by this assembly, and confirmed\nby the civil authorities. They contained in substance the following\nspecifications: (1) The pope's authority, as also that of the Church in\ngeneral, is confined to things spiritual. He has no prerogative to\ndepose kings and princes or to release their subjects from allegiance.\n(2) The decrees promulgated at Constance respecting the authority of\nEcumenical Councils subsist in full force. (3) In the use of his power\nthe pope must respect the ecclesiastical canons, as also such\nconstitutions as are received in the kingdom and Church of France. (4)\nWhile the pope has the principal voice in matters of faith, his judgment\nis subject to amendment until it has been approved by the Church.\n\nBossuet, the leading spirit of this assembly, and indeed the most\npowerful and commanding Churchman of his day, esteemed the boasted\ninfallibility of the pope a baseless fiction. He allowed that\nindefectibility belongs to the chair of Peter in the sense that heresy\ncan not find there any continuous and stubborn support. But this, he\nmaintained, in no wise precluded a temporary aberration of the\nindividual pontiff or the competency of the universal Church to\nadminister correction to the pontiff. Such principles had been at home\nin France ever since the era of the great Reform Councils of the\nfifteenth century. The pope--Innocent XI was then in the chair--was\nhighly incensed, and refused confirmation to those members of the\nassembly of 1682 whom the king nominated to episcopal sees. Affairs\nremained in a very unsettled condition for a considerable interval, no\nmode of accommodation being reached, each party standing its ground; but\nin 1691 the French Church found itself with thirty-five bishoprics\nvacant, and the king allowed the twelve signers of the declaration whom\nhe had nominated as bishops, but whom the pope had thus far refused to\nrecognize as such, to retract all that had displeased the pontiff. The\npope also gained some advantage from the bitter partisan conflicts\nwithin the Gallican Church during the closing years of Louis XIV.\n\nAs to the amount of spiritual life in the Church during these years it\nis not so easy to acquire reliable information as it is concerning the\nmore outward events. But there are many indications that it was very\nconsiderable, that the Roman Catholic Church at that period was in a\nvery much better state than it is at present. There was an evident\ndesire among a large number of its clergy to rid it of its gross\nsuperstitions. They opposed some of its absurdities, omitted many of its\nridiculous ceremonies, endeavored to render Catholicism more rational\nand intelligent, more Scriptural and pious. There are tokens that France\nhad then a very large number of true followers of the Savior; some in\nelevated stations whose virtues shine afar, but many more in obscure\npositions, God's hidden ones, known only to Him and to those immediately\naround them. Among the more prominent of the writers on spiritual\nsubjects flourishing at this time in France may be mentioned Antoinette\nBourignon (died 1680), whose published works amount to twenty-five\nvolumes: one of her hymns, \"Come, Savior, Jesus, from above,\" translated\nby John Wesley, is in our Hymnal, No. 379. Peter Poiret (died in 1719),\ncourt preacher of the Palatine, was an admirer of Madame Bourignon,\nwhose works he published; he also brought out the works of Madame Guyon\nin thirty-nine volumes; he was both a philosopher and a deeply pious\nman. The Baron de Renty (1611-1649) was a man of the profoundest\nspirituality, greatly admired by Wesley, who spoke of him in the highest\nterms, and published his life. Alphonsus de Sarasa (died in 1666) gave\nto the world \"The Art of Always Rejoicing,\" a beautiful book, filled\nwith the deepest Christian philosophy. The Abb\u00e9 Guillor\u00e9, also a\ncontemporary of F\u00e9nelon and belonging to the same school of piety, left\nto the world as his monument a treatise on \"Self-Renunciation,\" or the\n\"Art of Dying to Self and Living for the Love of Jesus.\" And Nicholas\nHerman, better known as Brother Lawrence, admitted, in 1666, as a lay\nbrother among the barefooted Carmelites at Paris, is still known in the\nrealm of pure and undefiled religion by his letters on \"The Practice of\nthe Presence of God,\" published at the instance of the Cardinal de\nNoailles. St. Vincent de Paul (died 1660), to mention but one more of\nthese illustrious names, founder of the order of Sisters of Charity, was\na philanthropist of the first rank. Neglected children, condemned\ncriminals, prisoners of the cell and the galley, all classes of the poor\nand the unfortunate, received from him a sympathy as practical as it was\nwarm and persevering. Consecrated activity he regarded as the essence of\nreligion. The spirit of his life is well expressed in his own words:\n\"The genuine mark of loving God is a good and perfect action. It is only\nour works which accompany us into the other life.\" From all this it is\nseen that the age and land which produced F\u00e9nelon had many other sons\nand daughters of very similar excellence.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER III.\n                        PRECEPTOR TO THE PRINCE.\n\n\nLouis XIV, being bent upon the subjection of the Huguenots, and knowing\nfull well that violence alone could accomplish the matter only in part,\ncast about in his mind for a suitable person to undertake the milder\nr\u00f4le of persuasion. F\u00e9nelon had already attracted notice both by his\ngood work at the community of New Catholics and also by the treatise\nwhich he had written in defense of the Apostolic Succession. So when\nBossuet suggested him as a suitable commissioner for the districts of\nPoitou and Saintonge, in the West, not far from the Protestant\nstronghold of La Rochelle, districts where great confusion and\nirritation prevailed, and where only a tender, judicious hand could hope\nto guide matters, the king very gladly made the appointment. F\u00e9nelon,\nbefore accepting it, made two stipulations. One was that he should be\nallowed to choose his fellow-workers. He selected the Abb\u00e9 de Langeron,\nhis lifelong friend, the Abb\u00e9 Fleury, the well-known historian, the Abb\u00e9\nBertier, and the Abb\u00e9 Milon, who later on became respectively Bishops of\nBlois and of Condom. The other stipulation was that the troops, together\nwith all that savored of military terrorism, should be withdrawn before\nhe entered on what should be solely a work of peace and mercy. There had\nbeen terrible doings and violent outrages with which F\u00e9nelon could have\nno sympathy. There is no doubt whatever upon this point. His own words\nare abundantly on record. Although the country was so disturbed, he\npositively refused a military escort; and when the king represented the\ndanger he might be exposed to, he answered: \"Sire, ought a missionary to\nfear danger? If you hope for an apostolical harvest, we must go in the\ntrue character of apostles. I would rather perish by the hands of my\nmistaken brethren than see one of them exposed to the inevitable\nviolence of the military.\" In a letter to a duke he says, \"The work of\nGod is not effected in the heart by force; that is not the true spirit\nof the Gospel.\"\n\nHe had the extremely difficult task of showing to Protestants whose\nproperty had been pillaged, whose families had been scattered, whose\nblood had been shed like water, the truth and excellence of the religion\nof their persecutors. That this could be done to any very extensive\ndegree might well be questioned. But the missionaries were characterized\nby ability, mildness, prudence, benevolence, and sound judgment, and\nthey did all that any reasonable persons could expect. The people of\nthese provinces were amazed to see men of high birth and position\nleaving the court and capital to come among them. They supposed that, at\nall events, such men would be luxurious and haughty, as they had been\ntold; but when, on the contrary, they saw the missionaries nothing but\nlowly, self-denying, simple-mannered priests, whose real aims seemed to\nbe the temporal as well as spiritual advantage of those among whom they\nlived, prejudice began to melt away. In February, 1686--the mission\nbegan in December, 1685, and lasted till July, 1686, being renewed for a\nfew months in the next year, May to July, 1687--F\u00e9nelon wrote to the\nMarquis de Seignelai, Secretary of State, and brother to the Duchess de\nBeauvilliers: \"In the present condition of men's minds we could easily\nbring them all to confession and communion if we chose to use a little\npressure and so glorify our mission. But what is the good of bringing\nmen to confession who do not yet recognize the Church? How can we give\nJesus Christ to those who do not believe they are receiving Him? We\nshould expect to bring a terrible curse upon us if we were satisfied\nwith hasty, superficial work, all meant for show. We can but multiply\nour instructions, invite the people to come heartily to sacraments, but\ngive them only to those who come of their own accord to seek them in\nunreserved submission. I must not forget to add that we want a great\nquantity of books, especially New Testaments.\" Again he writes later:\n\"The corn you have sent so cheaply proves to the people that our charity\nis practical. It is the most persuasive kind of controversy. It amazes\nthem, for they see the exact reverse of all their ministers have taught\nthem as incontrovertibly true. We need preachers to explain the Gospel\nevery Sunday with a loving, winning authority; people brought up in\ndissent are only to be won by the words spoken to them. We must give New\nTestaments profusely everywhere, but they must be in large type; the\npeople can not read small print. We can not expect them to buy Catholic\nbooks. It is a great thing if they will read what costs them nothing;\nindeed the greater proportion can not afford to buy.\" He wrote also to\nBossuet in March, 1686, \"Our converts get on, but very slowly; it is no\ntrifling matter to change the opinions of a whole people.\" It is very\nevident that F\u00e9nelon had the most sincere desire for the conversion of\nthe Protestants, believing, of course, as he did, from the bottom of his\nheart, that they were destined to eternal woe. Brought up in the\natmosphere in which he was, he could not possibly sympathize with their\nposition, could not regard their heroism as other than obstinacy. But\nsuch was the natural mildness of his disposition and his acquaintance\nwith the demands of genuine religion, that he could in no way be content\nwith a merely nominal acquiescence or consent, and with the use of that\nforce by which such acquiescence was obtained.\n\nHis mission to Saintonge has been called a dark page in his life. Yet\nthe strongly prejudiced writer who so characterizes it says in the same\nconnection, after referring to F\u00e9nelon's firm stand against violence and\nthe forcing of conscience: \"To us this measure of clemency seems bare\nand scanty enough; in F\u00e9nelon's own time it was both unusual and\neffective. His counsels of mercy had weight with the minister, and led\nto the suppression of various abuses, civil as well as ecclesiastical.\nThey manifestly gained for him the affection of his proselytes, and,\nstirring up against him the bile of the more rigid Catholics, seem to\nhave stood in the way of his promotion to the bishopric.\" It was a\nlittle after this that he was appointed to the See of Poitiers, which\nwas the chief city of Poitou, but De Harlai, who by this time was\nanything but a friend, succeeded in getting it immediately revoked; and\nthe next year the archbishop was again successful in his unworthy\nmaneuvers. The Bishop of Rochelle had been greatly impressed by the zeal\nand gentle wisdom of the young missioner, and he now came to Paris,\nwithout giving F\u00e9nelon any hint of his intention, to ask the king to\nappoint him as Coadjutor Bishop of Rochelle. It would have been done but\nfor the insinuations of De Harlai that the attraction between the two\nmen was a mutual leaning to Jansenism, and as this was always a sore\npoint with Louis, he at once refused to make the appointment. F\u00e9nelon\nmight easily have refuted these assertions--for there was not a word of\ntruth in them, as his close friendship with Bossuet, Tronson, and\nothers, showed--but he did not take the trouble so to do. He was not\nambitious of dignities.\n\nWas his mission to Saintonge and Poitou a dark page in his history? We\ncan hardly look upon it in this light. It seems to us that he comes out\nof it with considerable credit. Can we take it amiss in him that he was\na stanch adherent of the Roman Catholic Church, not only at this time,\nbut throughout all his life? Not if we are reasonable, and do not demand\nmiracles where there is no occasion for expecting them. Shall we\nwithhold our admiration from those who do not rise entirely superior to\nall their surroundings, and see things as we, in totally different\nconditions, see them? In that case, dealt with after so harsh a\njudgment, we ourselves might come off badly, and we should most\ncertainly have to bar out from our favor a very large proportion of the\nmen who have done the most for the world's advancement.\n\nIt was about this same time that Sir Matthew Hale in England (he died in\n1676)--who was reckoned the best judge of his time, acute, learned,\nsensible, setting himself strongly against bribery, one of the serious\nvices of his age, a friend of Richard Baxter, an austere scholar,\nleaning to the side of the Puritans--sentenced women to be executed for\nwitchcraft, and sent John Bunyan to jail for frequenting conventicles,\npolitely dismissing, without redress, his wife, who pleaded for his\ndischarge. And in our own time we have seen the Earl of Shaftesbury, who\ndid such wonderful things for the oppressed in some directions, most\nbitter against the reformers in all other lines except his own, the\nstanchest of Tories, and the most rigid of Churchmen, denouncing the\ndemocratic principle as anti-Christian, and upholding the infamous\nConventicle Act, which forbade worship in a private house by more than\ntwenty persons. Similar inconsistencies can be pointed out in the record\nof nearly all good men. What does it prove? Simply that it is given to\nvery few to rise much above the age in which they live, or to be at all\npoints independent of the impress placed upon them in their early years.\nWe see no reason to believe that F\u00e9nelon's attitude toward the\nProtestants of his day was other than an entirely sincere and\nconscientious one, such as might be fairly looked for in a person of his\nsurroundings.\n\nIt is possible to impute sinister and selfish motives to any, if one is\nso disposed, but we see no benefit from this policy. It is not the way\nwe would wish to be treated ourselves. Almost every act of a man's life\nis susceptible of an evil construction, if sufficient pains is taken and\nsufficient force applied. But we can not join with those who appear to\ndelight in pulling down from their pedestals all that have been lifted\nabove their fellows in goodness by the general suffrage of mankind.\nTruth, of course, is to be sought at all costs. But it makes a vast\ndifference from what standpoint the facts are approached, whether with\nsuspicion and aversion, or cordial appreciation and comprehension. There\nis often an underlying dislike to a certain type of character or to\ncertain sentiments and opinions, because of the wide difference between\nthem and those which the writer himself holds and practices, which makes\nit impossible that he should see them in an unbiased light. We can not\nescape the conclusion that F\u00e9nelon has been treated by some recent\nwriters in this manner, and we protest against its unfairness.\n\nIt may be truthfully said that F\u00e9nelon, while doing faithfully what\nappeared to him the duty of the hour on this mission, did not\nparticularly enjoy it. He had no love for life in the country or for the\nwork in which he was engaged. He longed for the quiet of his former\npost, with its larger opportunities for study and reflection, and for\nthe time when he should be free to return to Paris. In a letter to\nBossuet he playfully threatens to bring suspicion of heresy upon himself\nor \"incur a lucky disgrace\" that might give him excuse for his recall.\nHe was permitted, shortly after this, to go back to his place at the New\nCatholics, where for some two years more he occupied himself in a quiet,\ninconspicuous manner. Summing up the results of his controversial work\namong the Huguenots, we are disposed to conclude, with one of his\nbiographers, that \"if his moderation and humanity in an age in which\nsuch qualities were not esteemed, were remembered against him when other\nclouds were gathering, and contributed to his ultimate ruin, they add no\nless grace to the record of his life, and must have deepened his\ninfluence with those whose eyes were undimmed by prejudice and bigotry.\"\n\nThe most important period in the life of F\u00e9nelon was now to begin; that\nfor which the earlier years were but a preparation; that which would\ncolor and dominate all his succeeding days. The time had come when the\nlittle grandson of the king, the Duke of Burgundy, the hope of France\n(for his father, the dauphin, was a failure, wholly incompetent to fill\nany large place), should pass from the hands of nurses to masculine\nrule. What could be of greater importance, considering how much was at\nstake for the kingdom, than the proper selection of those who should\ntake this weighty charge? When the dauphin had been at a similar stage\nof his education he was committed to the care of the Duke de Montausier\nand Bossuet as the greatest and most celebrated men of their day. But\nthough they did their best, the course they took was not in all respects\nwell advised, and the results, at least, had not been satisfactory. This\nwould make the utmost care now all the more imperative. Happily the king\nwas fully alive to his responsibility, and, in addition to his own\npenetration, had the benefit of good counsel in the matter. Madame de\nMaintenon was now a power at court, and was using her influence in the\nbest directions. She was a warm friend of the Duke de Beauvilliers, who\nalso stood high in the good graces of Louis; for the monarch, in spite\nof his own serious lapses from virtue, admired it in others, and knew\nits importance with the young. The duke was accordingly made governor of\nthe royal grandchildren, Burgundy and his two younger brothers, with\nunlimited power of nominating all the other officers about them and all\nthe inferior attendants. He had no hesitation as to the best preceptor\nFrance could produce for the little prince, and immediately named\nF\u00e9nelon, a choice which was loudly applauded by the public throughout\nthe kingdom. The people said that Louis the Great had once more outshone\nall earlier monarchs, and shown himself wiser than Phillip of Macedon\nwhen he appointed Aristotle tutor to his son. Bossuet was overjoyed at\nthe good fortune of Church and State, and regretted only that the\nMarquis de F\u00e9nelon had not lived to see an elevation of the merit which\nhid itself with so much care. It was a great surprise to the recipient,\nwho was leading his ordinary retired life, neither seeking nor expecting\ncourt favor. It was a great gratification to his friends, who poured in\nlavish congratulations. But M. Tronson, the wise old tutor from St.\nSulpice, wrote that his joy was mixed with fear, considering the perils\nto which his favorite pupil would now be exposed. He says: \"It opens the\ndoor to earthly greatness, but you must fear lest it should close that\nof the real greatness of heaven. You are thrown into a region where the\nGospel of Jesus Christ is little known, and where even those who know it\nuse their knowledge chiefly as a means to win human respect. If ever the\nstudy and meditation of Holy Scripture were necessary to you, now indeed\nthey have become overwhelmingly indispensable. Above all, it is of\ninfinite importance that you never lose sight of the final hour of\ndeath, when all this world's glory will fade away like a dream, and\nevery earthly stay on which you may have leaned must fail.\" This counsel\nwas most creditable to both tutor and pupil, showing a love stronger\nthan ordinary friendship. The post which seemed so dazzling and so\npromising did indeed prove one of much danger as well as glory, but not\nexactly in the way that the aged teacher anticipated.\n\nThe Duke of Burgundy, now seven years old, was, in the most emphatic\nsense, an _enfant terrible_. He was very different from his heavy,\nstupid father, inheriting some of his qualities, it is said, from his\nmother, Mary Anne of Bavaria, a delicate, melancholy, unattractive\nprincess, passionate, proud, and caustic. Burgundy was a frail,\nunhealthy creature, whose body lacked symmetry as well as his mind. One\nshoulder very early outgrew the other, defying the most cruel efforts of\nthe surgeons to set it right, and doing serious mischief to his general\nhealth. His nervous system was much deranged, so that he was subject to\nhurricanes of passion. The least contradiction made him furious. He\nwould fall into ungovernable fits of rage even against inanimate\nobjects. He had an insatiable appetite for all sorts of pleasure. His\npride and arrogance were indescribable. Mankind he looked upon as atoms\nwith whom he had nothing in common; his brothers were only intermediate\nbeings between him and the human race. He had a quick, penetrating mind,\nand a marvelous memory. He was stiff against threats, on his guard\nagainst flattery, amenable only to reason; but by no means always to\nthat. Often when it reasserted itself, after one of his tornadoes, he\nwas so much ashamed of himself that he fell into a new fit of rage. He\nwas, however, frank and truthful in the extreme.\n\nSuch was the prince who--with his brothers, the Duke of Anjou,\nafterwards Philip V of Spain, and the Duke of Berri--was committed\nentirely to the care of F\u00e9nelon. When he accepted his new appointment he\nabandoned all other offices and occupations, permitting himself no\ndistractions even of friendship, that he might concentrate all his\npowers of insight and reflection upon his charges. Now, indeed, his\nstudies of education would be fully tested, and on the most conspicuous\nconceivable field his theories must be reduced to practice. It is said\nthat \"he pursued only one system, which was to have none.\" In other\nwords, he devoted his fertile mind to meeting the necessities of the\nhour as they arose in his volatile, chameleon-like pupil, instead of\nsubjecting him to a Procrustean system which could only have had the\nworst outcome. His facile pen was employed without stint in the service\nof his pupil. Many fables, some in French, some in Latin, full of poetry\nand grace, were written to convey special lessons to the little duke.\n\"Dialogues of the Dead\" also were composed for the same purpose,\nbringing in the principal personages of antiquity to converse on such\nthemes as would instruct in regard to history and morals. And all this\nwas but a preparation for \"Telemaque,\" or Telemachus, composed for the\ninstruction of the heir to the throne, and endowed with such unfailing\ncharm by the beauty of its style and the admirable nature of its\nsentences, that it has been read ever since in many nations and by many\nclasses. The same mythology is employed in it that was used by Homer and\nVirgil, but refined by the knowledge of the Divine revelation and\nadorned by a tincture of Christianity that runs easily through the whole\nnarrative. The best classical and moral maxims are placed before the\nmind of the reader, animated with love and heightened with action. The\nauthor shows that the glory of a prince is to govern men in such a way\nas to make them good and happy; that his authority is never so firmly\nestablished as in the love of his people; that the true riches and\nprosperity of a State consists in taking away what ministers to general\nluxury, and in being content with innocent and simple pleasures.\n\nBut, as may well be supposed, it was not the intellectual means\nalone--the text-books that were prepared, the treatises that were\nwritten, the pains taken with instruction--which most awaken our\nadmiration, but rather the good sense shown in the various special\nexpedients that were employed as from time to time they were found\nadapted to the needs of the case. Every effort was made to relieve study\nfrom tedium. Lessons were abandoned whenever the prince wished to begin\na conversation from which he might derive useful information. There were\nfrequent intervals for exercise. Learning was turned into a pleasure.\nThe real struggle was with his fiery temperament, which had been\nhitherto so badly mismanaged, and which could only be met by patience\nand gentleness with firmness. When one of the evil moods seized him, it\nwas an understood thing in the household that every one should relapse\ninto an unwonted silence. Nobody spoke to him if they could help it; his\nattendants waited upon him with averted eyes as though reluctant to\nwitness his degradation through passion. He was treated with the sort of\nhumiliating compassion which might be shown to a madman; his books and\nappliances for study were put aside as useless to one in such a state,\nand he was left to his own reflections. Such a course was the\ndestruction of self-complacency; he ceased to find relief in swearing\nwhen his hearers ceased to be disconcerted by his abuse, and, being left\nto consider the situation in solitude, he saw himself for the first time\nas others saw him. Gradually this treatment would bring the passionate\nbut generous child to a better mind, and then, full of remorse and\npenitence, he would come to throw himself with the fullest affection and\ntrust upon the never-failing patience and goodness of the preceptor,\nwhom he almost worshiped to his dying day.\n\nF\u00e9nelon had studied childhood, and knew how deeply rooted is the child's\nfear of ridicule; in the prince it was exaggerated by his abnormal\nvanity, and a system which showed him how he degraded himself, and lost\nall shadow of dignity when he lost his self-control, was the surest to\nproduce a radical reform. There are still in existence two pledges of\nhis childish repentance, testifying to the difficulty with which his\nfaults were conquered. \"I promise, on my word as a prince to M. l'Abb\u00e9\nde F\u00e9nelon, that I will do at once whatever he bids me, and will obey\nhim instantly in what he forbids; and if I break my word I will accept\nany kind of punishment and disgrace. Given at Versailles, November 29,\n1689. Louis.\" This promise, in spite of the word of a prince, was\nprobably broken; for many months later he enters on another engagement\npathetic in its brevity: \"Louis, who promises afresh to keep his promise\nbetter. This 20th of September, I beseech M. de F\u00e9nelon to take it\nagain.\" He was at this time but eight years old. The child loved his\nteacher passionately, and it was seldom that he did not yield speedily\nto F\u00e9nelon's wise and loving discipline.\n\nOnce, however, there was a serious scene between them which appears to\nhave had a lasting influence upon the prince. F\u00e9nelon had been obliged\nto reprove him with more than usual severity, and the boy, in his angry\npride, had resisted, exclaiming, \"No, no, sir; I remember who I am, and\nwho you are.\" It was impossible to pass over such a speech and maintain\nauthority; but acting upon his own maxim, never to administer reproof\nwhile either actor concerned is excited, F\u00e9nelon made no reply, and for\nthe remainder of the day preserved a total silence toward his pupil, who\ncould not fail to perceive by his manner that the usually indulgent\nmaster was much displeased. Night came with no explanation. But the next\nmorning, as soon as the prince was awake, the abb\u00e9 came into his room,\nand, addressing him in a grave, ceremonious manner, very unlike the\nusual easy tone of their intercourse, said: \"I do not know, Monsieur,\nwhether you remember what you said to me yesterday, that you knew what\nyou are and what I am; but it is my duty to teach you your ignorance\nalike of both. You fancy yourself a greater personage than I--some of\nyour servants may have told you so; but since you oblige me to do it I\nmust tell you without hesitation that I am greater than you. You must\nsee at once that there can be no question of birth in the matter. It is\none of personal merit. You can have no doubt that I am your superior in\nunderstanding and knowledge; you know nothing but what I have taught\nyou, and that is a mere shadow compared with what you have yet to learn.\nAs to authority, you have none over me, whereas I, on the other hand,\nhave full and entire authority over you, as the king has often told you.\nPerhaps you imagine that I think myself fortunate in holding the office\nI fill about yourself; but there again you are mistaken. I undertook it\nonly to obey the king, and in no way for the irksome privilege of being\nyour preceptor. And to convince you of this truth I am now going to take\nyou to His Majesty and beg of him to appoint some one else whose care of\nyou will, I hope, be more successful than mine.\" This was no idle\nthreat; for F\u00e9nelon had always been determined to resign the tutorship\nas soon as he felt himself to be failing in it; and the prince was\nobliged to weigh his pride against his love. His love proved the\ngreater; for life had been very different with him since F\u00e9nelon came\ninto it, and no sacrifice of his vanity was too galling if he might\ncancel his offense and keep his friend. Moreover, he was sensitive to\nthe last degree to public opinion and the faintest shadow of disgrace.\nWhat would the world think of a prince who was so hopelessly naughty\nthat a man so universally admired and respected was forced to give him\nup, and what would become of the poor little boy to whom his nearest\nrelatives were, after all, only \"His Majesty\" and \"Monseigneur,\" if the\ndear, kind preceptor, who loved him and devoted himself so entirely to\nhim, were to go away? Poor Louis! The storm broke out anew; but this\ntime it was of penitence and shame and regret, while with passionate\nsobs and tears he cried out: \"O Monsieur, I am so sorry for what I did\nyesterday. If you tell the king he will not care for me any more; and\nwhat will people think if you leave me? I promise, O I promise ever so\nmuch, that you shall not have to complain of me if only you will promise\nnot to go.\" But F\u00e9nelon would promise nothing--the lesson would be lost\nif it were not sharp--and for a whole day he allowed the duke to undergo\nthe pangs of anxiety and uncertainty. But at last, when his repentance\nseemed unlikely to be soon forgotten, Madame de Maintenon's intercession\nwas admitted, and the preceptor consented to remain.\n\nAt a much later date F\u00e9nelon, writing about these days to a friend, said\nof the prince: \"He was sincere and ingenuous to a degree that one only\nneeded to question him in order to know whatever he had done wrong. One\nday, when he was very much out of temper, he tried to conceal some act\nof disobedience, and I urged him to tell the truth, remembering that we\nwere in God's sight. Then he threw himself into a great passion, and\nsaid, 'Why do you put it in that way? Well, then, since you ask it so, I\ncan not deny that I did that,' whatever it was. He was beside himself\nwith anger, but still his sense of religious duty was so strong that it\ndrew forth the most humiliating acknowledgments. I never corrected him\nsave where it was really necessary, and then with great caution. The\nmoment his passion was over he would come back to me, and confess\nhimself to blame, so that we had to console him; and he was really\ngrateful to those who corrected him. He used sometimes to say to me,\n'Now I shall leave the Duke of Burgundy behind the door, and be only\nlittle Louis with you.' This was when he was nine years old. Directly he\nsaw me doing any work for him he wanted to do the same, and would set to\non his own account. Except in his moments of passion I never knew him\ninfluenced save by the most straightforward principles and most strictly\nin accordance with the teachings of the Gospel. He was kind and gracious\nto all who had a claim upon him; but he reserved his confidence wholly\nfor such as he believed to be religious people, and they could tell him\nnothing about his faults which he did not acknowledge with gratitude. I\nnever saw any one whom I should less have feared to displease by telling\nhim the harshest truths concerning himself. I have proved that by some\nwonderful experiences.\"\n\nIt will be somewhat seen, we trust, from all this, how great was the\ncare and skill expended by F\u00e9nelon on his most responsible and difficult\ntask, and how near an approach he made to imparting a model education to\nhis pupil. To his religious training, of course, as well as to that\nwhich was more intellectual, the greatest attention was given. It had a\nlarge place in the many conversations held and the many books put into\nhis hands, chief among which were the Sacred Scriptures. The law of\nself-denial and self-restraint was continually inculcated, that one must\nlearn to imitate the Divine Master if one would fulfill the purpose for\nwhich life was given. The early religious impressions thus imparted were\nso deeply wrought that they influenced his whole after life. He was\nprepared with greatest care for his first communion, taking it earnestly\nand devoutly, and for the rest of his life he was a regular and faithful\ncommunicant, receiving the sacrament with a recollection and humility of\nbearing which struck all beholders. A total transformation was wrought\nin the royal pupil under the training given, a transformation which\namazed all who were conversant with it. The Duke de Saint-Simon,\nspeaking of what a prodigy was wrought in a marvelously short space of\ntime, how the most terrible qualities were changed into all the opposite\nvirtues, says: \"From the beast which I have described there arose a\nprince affable, gentle, moderate, patient, modest, humble, austere but\nonly to himself, attentive to his duties and sensible of their great\nextent. His only object appeared to be to perform all his actual duties\nas son and subject, and to qualify himself for his future obligations.\"\nMadame de Maintenon, in one of her letters, gives the same testimony:\n\"We saw all those defects which alarmed us so much in the youth of the\nDuke of Burgundy gradually disappear. Every year produced in him a\nvisible increase of virtue. So much had his piety changed him that, from\nbeing the most passionate of men, he became mild, gentle, and complying;\npersons would have thought that mildness was his natural disposition,\nand that he was innately good.\" So great was the alteration in his\ncharacter and conduct that, had he lived to ascend the throne, the whole\nworld, as well as France in particular, would have been immensely the\ngainer. Hence the limitless devotion with which F\u00e9nelon gave five or six\nyears of his life at the height of his powers entirely to the royal\nchildren and the routine of their schoolroom duties, was by no means a\npoor use of his great gifts and attainments. These years are extremely\nimportant, both in his own history and the history of his country.\n\nOne other point deserves mention before we pass from this interesting\nperiod of F\u00e9nelon's life. In entering on his office he laid down to\nhimself a rule, to which he rigidly adhered, never to ask of the court a\nfavor for himself, his friends, or his family. The virtue of this stands\nout the more when we consider how very rare in those days was\ndisinterestedness, and that men were none the less esteemed because they\nstrove to profit themselves and their families to the utmost in whatever\nposition they filled. It is, then, not a little remarkable and\ncreditable that F\u00e9nelon actually continued in a state closely\napproaching destitution; his means were extremely straitened for more\nthan five years after entering upon his honorable and responsible\nposition at court. His private revenue was very small, nothing at all\ncoming to him at this time from Carenac, which he describes as\n\"hopelessly ruined.\" No pecuniary income, one writer says, was attached\nto his office; but this is hardly credible, and there are indications\nthat there was a salary, although, strangely enough, not an adequate\none. He kept a very small establishment, and it was with great\ndifficulty that he found means to meet his current expenses. Letters to\nMadame de Laval, a daughter of his uncle, the marquis, and hence a\nsister to him, who was his guide and counselor in money matters, show\nthis. He wrote to her, October, 1689, concerning the various economies\nto which he was subjected, and the sale of his carriage and ponies.\nAgain, in March, 1691, he mentions having repaid one thousand francs out\nof a debt of twelve hundred due Madame de Laval, and other sums to other\npeople. \"I have made retrenchments,\" he says, \"which are very unusual in\nmy position; but justice comes before all other considerations. I still\nowe a considerable sum to my bookseller, and I must buy some plate to\nrepay you for the things you have loaned me which are worn out.\" He\nspeaks of getting his accounts into order that he may see his way in his\nsmall economies and calculate how to go on. Again, in January, 1694, he\nwrites concerning a needy person whom he commends to Madame de Laval,\nsaying: \"Although my necessities have never been so pressing as at\npresent, I beg you to take what is wanted for this man. I am tolerably\nwell, though very busy; but my purse is at the lowest ebb, through\ndelays in the payment of my salary, and the exceeding dearness of\neverything this year. If I do not receive something shortly, I must\ndismiss nearly all my servants. But I will not have you try to help me.\nI would rather bear on. All the same, see that any money that can be\nsent [from Carenac] reaches me after the more urgent alms have been\ndisbursed; for indeed I would rather live on dry bread than let any of\nthe poor of my benefice want.\"\n\nThis cousin became F\u00e9nelon's sister actually, as well as in name, by her\nsecond marriage with his eldest brother, the Compte de F\u00e9nelon; and\nprobably it never cost him more to refuse anything than when he refused\nher request that he would obtain a valuable military post for her son, a\nchild four years old. But, while eager to do anything he deemed right to\nplease her, he steadily refused to make the application she desired. He\nwrites: \"I can not relax the strict rule to which I feel it right in my\nposition to adhere. I would do anything on earth for you or your son\nthat I can, but not to save my life would I ask for anything from the\nking.\" Other letters that might be quoted speak the same language. It\nwas not till 1694 that the king seems to have remembered or discovered\nhow badly his grandsons' preceptor was provided for. In that year, at\nlast, he gave F\u00e9nelon the Abbey of St. Valery, which sufficiently filled\nhis purse. The king informed him of this in person, and apologized for\nso tardy an acknowledgment of his gratitude. And the year before, 1693,\nhe was chosen a member of the French Academy, a high distinction; his\nreception speech was made March 31st of that year. It was at this time,\nalso, that he became a considerable factor in the management of the\ncelebrated community at St. Cyr, known as the ladies of St. Louis, who\nwere pledged to a devout and holy life. Madame de Maintenon had\noriginated the idea of this foundation, with the special object of\neducating and training five hundred girls, daughters of the poorer\nnobility. It occupied a large share of her thoughts. F\u00e9nelon was\nassociated with Bourdaloue, the Abb\u00e9 Godet des Marais, subsequently\nBishop of Chartres, and other eminent ecclesiastics in its government.\n\nIt was on February 4, 1695, that the king announced to Abb\u00e9 de F\u00e9nelon\nthat he had nominated him Archbishop of Cambrai, one of the richest and\nmost important sees in the kingdom. He was taken entirely by surprise,\nbut at once replied, after expressing his thanks, that he could scarcely\nrejoice in an appointment that would remove him from the preceptorship\nto the princes. Whereupon Louis graciously answered that the abb\u00e9 was\nmuch too useful to be spared, and that his intention was that he should\nretain both offices. F\u00e9nelon represented that the laws of the Church and\nhis own conscience made this impossible, as both required residence in\nthe diocese. But the king bore witness to his appreciation of F\u00e9nelon's\nservices by overruling this difficulty, and replying, \"No, no; the\ncanons only require nine months' residence; you will spend three months\nwith my grandsons, and during the rest of the year you must superintend\ntheir education from Cambrai just as you would at Versailles.\" This\npoint settled, F\u00e9nelon went on to say that if he was indeed to accept\nthe archbishopric he must resign the Abbey of St. Valery, an act of\ndisinterestedness which Louis altogether refused to allow. But F\u00e9nelon\nquietly persisted, pointing out to the king that the revenues of Cambrai\nwere such as to make it an infringement of canonical law to hold any\nother preferment with it. Such conscientious indifference to his own\ninterest excited a great deal of astonishment and gossip at court. The\nBishop of Rheims remarked that it was all very well for M. de F\u00e9nelon,\nthinking as he did, to act thus, but that thinking as _he_ did, it was\nbetter for him to keep his revenues. The age was thoroughly accustomed\nto this plurality of benefices. In the previous century John of Lorraine\nwas at one and the same time Archbishop of Lyons, Rheims, and Narbonne,\nBishop of Metz, Toul, Verdun, Theroneune, Lucon, Alby, and Valence, and\nAbbot of Gortz, Fecamp, Clugny, and Marmontier. He was also made a\ncardinal a year or two before attaining his majority. This was doubtless\nan extreme case, but there were plenty somewhat similar. So that\nF\u00e9nelon's self-denying course meant a good deal more than it would at\nthe present day.\n\nHe was consecrated archbishop June 10, 1695, in the chapel of St. Cyr,\nin the presence of a distinguished throng, among whom were Madame de\nMaintenon and his three royal pupils. Bossuet was chief consecrator, the\nBishop of Chalons being first assistant, and the Bishop of Amiens\nsecond. F\u00e9nelon's friends were delighted at this great advancement for\nhim; yet it was felt by many of them that he should have had the\nArchbishopric of Paris, for already the popular voice had widely and\nloudly nominated him. Some thought that he was sent to Cambrai by the\nking for the express purpose of forestalling this clamor, and avoiding\nany necessity for putting him in the more conspicuous and influential\nplace; for it was known that the post at Paris would soon be vacant,\nand, if, at its vacancy, F\u00e9nelon had been still unplaced, the pressure\nfor his appointment there would have been very strong. As it was, M. de\nHarlai died August 6, 1695, less than two months after F\u00e9nelon's\nconsecration. M. de Noailles, Bishop of Chalons, through the influence\nof Madame de Maintenon, was given the position.\n\nWe have reached now what was, in a worldly point of view, the very\nsummit of F\u00e9nelon's prosperity and glory. It might seem that, humanly\nspeaking, he had very little, if anything, left to wish for, although,\nof course, the cardinalate might fairly have been expected in a few\nyears. But the clouds were already beginning to gather which were soon\nto break over his head in a storm never to clear away, so far as court\nfavor and the good things of this world were concerned. So a new chapter\nmust be devoted to these new experiences which had so very much to do\nboth with his temporal and spiritual affairs.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER IV.\n                       MYSTICISM AND QUIETISM.[4]\n\n\nIn order that we may properly apprehend the next period in F\u00e9nelon's\nlife it is absolutely essential for us to take a survey of the general\nsubject of Mysticism, for with that he became now very intimately\nconcerned. And, happily, it is a subject of perennial importance, having\nno less close connection with the present day than with the centuries\npast. Indeed the present age has in some respects very special need of\njust this element. It is a commercial, materialistic, money-grabbing\nage, devoted to the outward and the practical; it is a time when the\ntriumphs of machinery and invention and industrial progress are sounded\nas never before--an extremely busy, bustling time of immense external\nactivity, when man hastens to get rich and rushes through life at\nrailroad speed, scarcely finding leisure so much as to eat, much less\nfor the quiet contemplation of the things of the spirit. And it is the\ncontemplative, interior, spirit-filled life with which Mysticism has\npre-eminently to do.\n\nThe term, it is true, has come to be widely regarded with suspicion, and\nused, more or less vaguely, as a word of reproach. With many, perhaps\nwith most, it carries an unpleasant, offensive suggestion. Its\nassociations in their minds are with that which is misty or recondite,\nvisionary and unintelligible; also with that which is fanatical,\nextravagant, unreasonable, and somewhat dangerous. That there is some\nground for this impression can not be denied, because under the general\nname of Mysticism much has been included, in the long sweep of the\ncenturies, which can not be admired or defended; much which does not\ncommend itself to that level-headed common sense according to whose\ndictates we like to think that our religion can be and should be\nsquared. But we are persuaded that this extreme objectionable\ndevelopment, or manifestation, of the Mystic spirit has been much less\nfrequent than is commonly supposed, and has no sufficient claim to be\nidentified with it in the public mind anywhere near as largely as it\nusually is. There is a true Mysticism, and a false Mysticism. There are\nMystics every way worthy of highest honor, and there are those not at\nall points deserving imitation. It surely is a mistake to lay the chief\nstress on the latter, as is so frequently done, and thus to stamp a\nstigma upon all. Christian Mysticism is something of which no one can\nafford to be ignorant. The Church which neglects it or despises it,\nwhether through misapprehension or some less honorable cause, is certain\nto be a large loser.\n\nWhat is Mysticism? As has been pointed out by several, it is something\nwhich from its very nature is hardly susceptible of exact definition,\ndoes not readily lend itself to the most precise forms of language. It\nis a phase of thought or feeling which continually appears in connection\nwith the endeavor of the human mind to grasp the Divine essence, and to\nenjoy the blessedness of actual communion with the Highest. It springs\ninevitably from intense desire for intimate fellowship with God, from\nthe hottest possible pursuit of the highest ideals. It is a sort of name\nfor the realization of God as transfused throughout the universe, as\nbeing immanent in material things and in mankind alike. The Century\nDictionary defines Mysticism as \"any mode of thought or phase of\nintellectual or religious life in which reliance is placed upon a\nspiritual illumination believed to transcend the ordinary powers of\nunderstanding.\" The Standard Dictionary says that Mysticism is \"the\ndoctrine and belief that man may attain to an immediate direct\nconsciousness or knowledge of God as the real and absolute principle of\nall truth. The term is applied to a system of thought and life of which\nthe chief feature is an extreme development of meditative and intuitive\nmethods as distinguished from the definitive and scholastic.\" Similarly\nDr. J. P. Lange, in the Schaff-Herzog Cyclopedia, says: \"Mysticism has\nbeen defined as belief in an immediate and continuous communication\nbetween God and the soul which may be established by certain peculiar\nreligious exercises.... There is a mystic element in all true religion.\"\nCousin says: \"Mysticism is the belief that God may be known face to face\nwithout anything intermediate. It is a yielding to the sentiment\nawakened by the Infinite, and a summing up of all knowledge and all duty\nin the contemplation and love of Him.\" Nitzsch, in his \"System of\nChristian Doctrine,\" declares \"that the religious man, the man of faith,\nis, as such, a Mystic; for he in whose consciousness God does not\nappear, certainly does not feel God, nor can he know or honor Him; but\nhe who only thinks Him, without loving Him and becoming pure in heart,\ncan not know Him vitally; much less can he behold Him spiritually who\ndesires to see Him with the outward sense. The inner life of religion is\never Mysticism.\"\n\nThis is why in all ages of the Church, when the outward has come to\nusurp and absorb attention, when formalism and ceremonialism have\ndominated the mind, when scholasticism has gained ascendency, and\nespecially when a corrupt looseness of morals has set in to degrade the\nvery ideals of humanity, there have been those who have arisen to make a\nstand for a purer, more fervent, more spiritual type of piety. They have\nmet, of course, with bitter opposition; they have troubled those who did\nnot wish to be disturbed in their carnal indulgences or worldly\nconformities, and they have had various uncomplimentary epithets thrown\nat them: such as, Pietists, Quietists, Mystics, Puritans, Quakers, and\nMethodists. They have been misrepresented in manifold ways. They have\nbeen persecuted even unto the death. But they have been the salt of the\nearth, and the succession has been kept up under one name or another\nfrom the earliest days to the present. They have not always been endowed\nwith philosophic minds or skilled in the learning of the schools. They\nhave been keenly conscious of the difficulty, the impossibility, of\ncompletely expressing, in imperfect human words, the deep things of God\nrevealed to them on the mounts of vision with which they have been\nfavored. They have struggled hard with the inadequacy of the only\nlanguage at their command, and have been driven to a liberal use of\nfigures of speech, some of them questionable in point of propriety. They\nhave had a cramped vocabulary, have made mistakes, have not found\nthemselves able to translate into intelligible terms all that was in\ntheir minds. To mint the secrets of the interior life into the current\ncoin of language suited to the comprehension of common souls requires a\nskill given to but few. And more especially have their expressions been\nfound unintelligible, or worse, by adversaries not qualified by any\nexperience to comprehend what it was all about. For, as St. Paul says (I\nCor. ii): \"The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of\nGod; for they are foolishness unto him, and he can not know them,\nbecause they are spiritually judged. We speak wisdom among the perfect,\nGod's wisdom in a mystery, even a wisdom which hath been hidden, which\nnone of the rulers of this world knoweth. Which things also we speak,\nnot in words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Spirit teacheth,\ninterpreting spiritual things to spiritual men.\" The adversaries were\nalso eager in many cases to remove out of the way those who, by their\npurity of life and their opposition to priestly claims and gains, were\nesteemed dangerous to the peace of the Church. We are confident that in\nthe main this is a fair interpretation of the course which events have\ntaken. Not but what some of the Mystics have really laid themselves open\nto the complaints of their enemies. They have been unguarded in their\nlanguage, have been so carried away with ecstasy, as some new precious\ntruth has burst upon them, that they have stated it too strongly; have\nnot supplied the limitations and modifications and exceptions which\nwould have been well, which were necessary for a complete rounding out\nof the statement; have taken for granted that the other side had been\nsufficiently emphasized before, and that their special mission to\nemphasize the neglected point would be recognized; hence they have said\nthings which, by strict construction and taken in bald literalness, were\nnot precisely true. All this can be granted without casting any serious\nreflection either on their character or their doctrines. Their books\nmust be read with caution and discrimination. To persons not well\nbalanced they might sometimes be a source of peril. But this admission\nis in no way incompatible with the assertion that they have conferred a\nvery great benefit upon mankind, that their doctrines, on the whole, are\nsound, and that this generation could ill afford to overlook the good to\nbe obtained by careful studies in this direction.\n\nThe first Mystics were really St. John and St. Paul; and their words\nhave full justification in what they derived from their Divine Master.\nWho more positively than the great Apostle to the Gentiles, \"according\nto the wisdom given unto him,\" preached a gospel that was foolishness to\nsome, but which he continually called the wisdom and the mystery of God;\na gospel which proclaims the Divine indwelling, we in Him and He in us,\nour bodies the temples of the Holy Ghost, believers being \"in Christ\"\nand \"members one of another?\" He was a man caught up into Paradise, and\nhearing unspeakable words which it was not lawful or possible for a man\nto utter. \"I die daily,\" he said, \"I have been crucified with Christ,\nand it is no longer I that live, but Christ liveth in me;\" \"To me to\nlive is Christ;\" \"I have learned the secret, I can do all things in\nHim;\" \"I fill up on my part that which is lacking of the afflictions of\nChrist;\" \"Ye died, and your life is hid with Christ in God;\" \"In Him we\nlive, and move, and have our being;\" \"The Spirit Himself beareth witness\nwith our spirit,\"--and many other such like things there be, left on\nrecord from his pen to show clearly that he was a true Mystic. Still\nmore, perhaps, do the Mystics look to St. John for complete\nauthorization of their position. His Gospel is the spiritual Gospel, the\ncharter of Christian Mysticism. It is he who tells us, \"God is love,\"\n\"God is light,\" \"God is Spirit.\" The Divine union which he sets before\nus is of the closest kind. \"Our fellowship is with the Father, and with\nHis Son Jesus Christ;\" \"Ye have an anointing from the Holy One, and ye\nknow all things;\" \"The anointing which ye received of Him abideth in\nyou, and ye need not that any teach you;\" \"Hereby we know that He\nabideth in us, by the Spirit which He hath given us;\" \"He that believeth\non the Son of God hath the witness;\" \"He that dwelleth in love dwelleth\nin God, and God in him,\" etc. It is impossible to quote a tithe of the\nwords in John's Epistles and Gospel which embody the fundamental ideas\nof Mysticism. Especially do we find in the marvelous words of Jesus\nreported by John alone, as by the one peculiarly fitted to formulate\nthem, in the thirteenth to the seventeenth chapters of his Gospel, the\nseeds and roots of all which have been drawn forth by subsequent writers\non these profound themes.\n\nPlato has been called \"the Father of European Mysticism.\" Dr. Inge says:\n\"Both the great types of Mystics may appeal to him,--those who try to\nrise through the visible to the invisible, through nature to God; and\nthose who look upon this earth as a place of banishment, upon material\nthings as a veil which hides God's face from us, and who bid us seek\nyonder in the realm of ideas the heart's true home. Plato teaches that\nthe highest good is the greatest likeness to God; that the greatest\nhappiness is the vision of God; that we should seek holiness, not for\nthe sake of reward, but because it is the health of the soul, while vice\nis its disease; that goodness is unity and harmony, while evil\ndisintegrates; that it is our duty to rise above the visible and\ntransitory to the invisible and permanent.\"\n\nThe Church has never lacked during its history for those who have\nfollowed this line of thought and cultivated this kind of experience.\nClement of Alexandria has been called \"the Founder of Christian\nMysticism,\" a Neoplatonist among the Fathers; followed by Dionysius the\nAreopagite, and a lengthy line of successors, large among whom looms the\nnoble Bernard of Clairvaux, the glory of the twelfth century. Without\ntracing out the story in detail it will be enough for our purpose to\nrefer briefly to those who, in the few centuries before F\u00e9nelon, stood\nforth most prominently as leaders in this realm of truth, and so\nprepared the way for him.\n\nIn the fourteenth century we find a most remarkable band of devout\nbelievers who called themselves \"Friends of God,\" to signify that they\nhad reached that stage of Christian life when Christ, according to His\npromise, would call them \"no longer servants but friends.\" They were\ncomposed of persons from all classes of society, and from all the\nreligious orders. Most prominent among these were Master Eckhart--styled\n\"Doctor Ecstaticus\"--vicar-general of the Dominican order, a man of\nuncommon purity of life and great excellence of character, one of the\nprofound thinkers of the Middle Ages; Henry Suso, who has been called\n\"the Minnesinger of Divine Love,\" and who was wont to say, \"A man of\ntrue self-abandonment must be _un_built from the creature, _in_built\nwith Christ, and _over_built into the Godhead\" (he was prior of the\nDominican convent at Ulm, where he died in 1365); Nicholas of Basle; and\nJohn Tauler. Nicholas was a layman who wielded a powerful pen and was\nalso a great preacher; thoroughly devoted to religion from his earliest\ndays. He traveled much through Germany, propagating his opinions in a\nquiet, unostentatious manner, and gradually there grew up around him a\nsociety of Christians composed of men and women likeminded with himself,\nwho loved to honor him as their spiritual father. It seems to have been\nlargely his personal influence which held them together, for they fell\nto pieces after he was burned at the stake for heresy, near Poitiers,\nabout 1382.\n\nJohn Tauler--\"Doctor Illuminatus\"--born at Strasburg, 1290, and dying\nthere in 1361, was still more distinguished, although indebted to\nNicholas for being led out into the light. This took place when he was\nover fifty years of age. Nicholas, coming to Strasburg to hear the\nfamous preacher, speedily detected his deficiency in spiritual\nexperience, and the lack of true power attending the Word on this\naccount. With rare humility, Tauler, a learned theologian, received this\nrebuke from the uneducated layman, and so profited by it that he was\nable, though not without long struggle, to enter into complete freedom.\nThen he preached in a very different manner, and the first time he\nopened his mouth in public fourteen persons fell as if dead under the\nWord, and nearly thirty others were so deeply moved that they remained\nsitting in the churchyard long after the congregation was dismissed,\nunwilling to move away. For eighteen years after this second conversion\nhe made great progress in the divine life, rising to a place of highest\nesteem with his brethren, and being rightly reckoned among the chief of\nGod's children on earth.\n\nProperly to be counted among these Friends of God can be set down the\nunknown author of \"Deutsche Theologie,\" or \"Theologia Germanica,\" which\ncontained so much truth that it had the distinguished honor of being put\nupon the Romish Index of prohibited works. Luther ascribed it to Tauler.\nIt is in his style, and contains his sentiments; but it is now\nconsidered more probable that it originated a little later than his\ntime, and was written by some other member of the band. It was their\nusual practice to conceal their names as much as possible when they\nwrote, lest a desire for fame should mingle in their endeavors to be\nuseful. Luther placed it next to the Bible and St. Augustine as a source\nof knowledge concerning God and Christ and man. Baron Bunsen ranks it\nstill higher. And many others have expressed their supreme indebtedness\nto it for help in respect to the perfect life. It has continued up to\nthe present day to be the favorite handbook of devotion in Germany.\n\nConcerning the views and doctrines of these Friends of God, although\nsome of their expressions and opinions may be objected to, considering\nthe corrupt age in which they lived they must be pronounced worthy of\nhigh praise. They insisted, first of all, on the uttermost\nself-renunciation, yet they avoided the system of penances and\nausterities common in the monasteries. Neither idle contemplation nor\npassive asceticism found favor with them; they were evangelical and\npractical, full of good works and the imitation of Christ both in\npatient suffering and active usefulness. They were animated by an\nexalted reformatory spirit which threw them out of touch with the\necclesiastics around them. Though they did not in all cases fall under\nthe ban of the Church, they may still be regarded as forerunners of the\nReformation. Their Mysticism was a powerful protest against the terrible\ncorruptions of the Romish Church and the cold, barren speculations of\nscholasticism. They craved and secured direct communion with God,\nunrestricted by human interposition; an immediate vision of the\nAlmighty, undimmed by any separating veil and unchanged by any\ndistorting medium. The highest form of the Divine life in a man seemed\nto them to be perfect resignation to the will of God, and they counted\nprayer to be the best means of bringing about this state of resignation.\n\"To pray for a change in one's circumstances,\" they said, \"is to pray\nthat what God sends may be made subject to us, not that we should submit\nourselves to it; and so tends to produce self-assertion, not\nself-renunciation.\" Nicholas taught that \"when self-renunciation is\ncomplete, the soul of man, having become entirely resigned to the Divine\nwill, becomes so entirely assimilated to the Divine nature that it has\ncontinually a near fellowship with God; he is always in familiar\nintercourse with the Spirit of God, who communicates to him all Divine\nknowledge.\" \"All things to the beloved are of God; all, therefore, are\nindifferent.\" That religion which sprang from fear of punishment or hope\nof reward they counted of little worth, and considered love to be by far\nthe highest state, the only one truly worthy of the Christian.[5] Their\nunion with Deity was not that of pantheism but of passionate love, and\ngreat prominence was given to the will as the mainspring on which all\ndevelopments of the higher life depend.\n\nThe following quotations from \"Theologia Germanica\" will convey in a few\nwords what may be called the root ideas of the book and of the men whose\nspirit it so well embodies:\n\n\"A true lover of God loveth Him alike in having and in not having, in\nsweetness and in bitterness, in good or evil report; for he seeketh only\nthe honor of God, and not his own, either in spiritual or natural\nthings. Therefore he standeth alike unshaken in all things.\"\n\n\"All disobedience is contrary to God, and nothing else. In truth, no\nthing is contrary to God; no creature, nor creature's work, nor anything\nthat we can name or think of, is contrary to God or displeasing to Him,\nbut only disobedience and the disobedient man. In short, all that is, is\nwell-pleasing and good in God's eyes, saving only the disobedient man.\"\n\n\"The man who is truly godlike complaineth of nothing but of sin only.\nAnd sin is simply to desire or will anything otherwise than the one\nperfect good and the one eternal will, or to wish to have a will of\none's own.\"\n\n\"Sin is to will, desire, or love otherwise than God doth. Things do not\nthus will, desire, or love: therefore things are not evil; all things\nare good.\"\n\n\"He who is truly a virtuous man would not cease to be so to gain the\nwhole world; yea, he would rather die a miserable death. To him virtue\nis its own reward, and he is content therewith, and would take no\ntreasure or riches in exchange for it.\"\n\n\"Union with God is brought to pass in three ways; to wit, by pureness\nand singleness of heart, by love, and by the contemplation of God.\"\n\nA still greater name among the Mystic writers, coming a bit later than\nthose already mentioned, is that of Thomas \u00e0 Kempis, born near Cologne,\nin this same West Germany where the Friends of God flourished, in 1386,\nand dying about 1470. His \"Imitation of Christ\" stands easily at the\nhead of its class, first in popularity and usefulness among manuals for\ndevotion. \"The epic poem of the inner life,\" it has lent the fragrance\nof its sanctity to every language of the civilized world, and has been a\nprime favorite for nearly five hundred years with all those who have\nmade largest advancement in holy things. Only a few extracts need be\ngiven to show how closely it is in line with what has already been said,\nand what remains to be said, concerning the topic of our chapter:\n\n\"When a man is so far advanced in the Christian life as not to seek\nconsolation from any created thing, then does he first begin perfectly\nto enjoy God; his heart is wholly fixed and established in God who is\nhis All in All.\"\n\n\"There is no other occasion of perplexity and disquiet but an unsubdued\nwill and unmortified affections.\"\n\n\"Self-denial is the test of spiritual perfection, and he that truly\ndenies himself is arrived at a state of great freedom and safety. It is\nno small advantage to suppress desire, even in inconsiderable\ngratifications. Restless and inordinate desires are the ground of every\ntemptation.\"\n\n\"Abandon all, and thou shalt possess all; relinquish desire, and thou\nshalt find rest.\"\n\n\"No evil is permitted to befall thee but what may be made productive of\na much greater good. Receive all with thankfulness, as from the hand of\nGod, and esteem it great gain.\"\n\n\"For all that befalleth me I will thank the Love that prompts the gift,\nand reverence the Hand that confers it.\"\n\n\"O Lord God, holy Father, be Thou blessed now and forever! For whatever\nThou willest is done, and all that Thou willest is good.\"\n\n\"The righteous should never be moved by whatever befalls him, knowing\nthat it comes from the hands of God, and is to promote the important\nbusiness of our redemption. Without God, nothing is done upon the face\nof the earth.\"\n\n\"Perfection consists in offering up thyself, with thy whole heart, to\nthe will of God; never seeking thine own will either in small or great\nrespects; but with an equal mind weighing all events in the balance of\nthe sanctuary, and receiving both prosperity and adversity with equal\nthanksgiving.\"\n\n\"All is vanity but the love of God and a life devoted to His will.\"\n\nPassing over St. Theresa and St. John of the Cross[6]--particulars about\nwhom may be found in Vaughan--and denying ourselves, through limitations\nof space, all quotations from Rodriguez and Scupoli,[7] who flourished\nin the sixteenth century, and wrote divinely about Divine things,\nleaving the world heroic examples of holiness,--we come to St. Francis\nof Sales and Molinos, both of whom had close connection with F\u00e9nelon,\nalthough in different ways. Francis--born in 1567 and departing to glory\nin 1622, who has been called \"the noblest, tenderest and most devoted\nMystic of the Catholic Church after the Reformation\"--more than any\nother, was F\u00e9nelon's teacher in matters pertaining to the inner life,\neven as Scupoli had been the teacher of Francis. F\u00e9nelon never wearies\nof recommending to the correspondents whom he is instructing in\nspiritual things the perusal of the works of this delightful and\ninspiring writer. He says to one: \"You can read nothing better than St.\nFrancis of Sales. Everything he writes is full of comfort and love;\nalthough his whole tone is that of self-mortification, it is all deep\nexperience, simple precautions, high feeling, and the light of grace.\nYou will have made a great step when you are familiar with such mental\nfood.\" Upon another he urges \"a half hour spent in meditative reading of\nthe Gospels in the morning, and an evening portion of St. Francis de\nSales.\" To the Elector of Cologne, when about to receive episcopal\nconsecration, he says, \"Read the Life and Works of St. Francis de\nSales.\" We do not wonder at these counsels. The two men, the two\nFrancises, were entirely congenial, marvelously alike in heart and head,\nwith similar vivacity, urbanity, and grace of manner, polish of style,\nprofundity of insight into the soul, and practical knowledge of the\nworld. Both had high rank in State and Church, strong intellects,\nintense devotion to God, and ability to express truth in a simple,\nlucid, attractive way. They were alike in that the profound piety they\ntaught was not, as in the previous age, reserved for the cloister, but\nwas quite compatible with mingling in the world, requiring no great\nchange of habits, but an entire change of motive. Even the life at court\nmight be continued and graced with cheerful obedience to the whole will\nof God; all the actions of the day could be sanctified by a perpetual\nprayer offered up in their midst and by a sincere intention to please\nGod; the humble every-day virtues were extolled, and no austerities\nrecommended. Thus religion was made commensurate with the whole of life,\nand the saint could join in all that others did, except sin. No\ndifference can be found in their doctrines, or even their forms of\nexpression, and it seems like an irony of fate that the Bishop of Geneva\nshould be canonized in 1665 by the same Church which condemned, in 1699,\nthe Archbishop of Cambrai. The fictitious and factitious reasons that\nled to the latter will be detailed a little later.\n\nPart of the reason is connected with the history and fate of Miguel de\nMolinos, commonly esteemed to be the founder of the Quietists. He was a\nSpanish theologian, born of noble parentage near Saragossa, December 21,\n1627. He acquired a great reputation at Rome and elsewhere for purity of\nlife and vigor of intellect, but steadily refused all ecclesiastical\npreferment. In 1675 he published his \"Spiritual Guide,\" which in a few\nyears passed through twenty editions in different languages, and was\nwarmly hailed by people of marked piety in many lands. But it was soon\nbitterly attacked, especially by the Jesuits, who quickly perceived that\nMolinos' system tacitly accused the Romish Church of a departure from\nthe true religion, and that his whole doctrine would militate against\nthe power of the priesthood and the importance of ceremonialism.\nAlthough he had a vast number of friends, some of them eminent for\nlearning and piety, and even high in worldly rank, and though the\npontiff himself, Innocent XI, was partial to him, he was, in 1685, cited\nbefore the Inquisition and subjected to close examination as well as\nrigid imprisonment. It is said that as many as twenty thousand letters\nwere found in his house, which, if true, shows the degree to which the\nmovement he headed had spread, and the hunger of great multitudes for\nspiritual food. His trial lasted two years, and in 1687 sixty-eight\npropositions, purporting to be extracted from his book, were condemned,\nand he was declared to have taught false and dangerous dogmas contrary\nto the doctrine of the Church. He was compelled to pass the remainder of\nhis life in the dungeons of the Inquisition, where he died, after many\nyears of close confinement, in which he exhibited the greatest humility\nand peace of mind.\n\nThe principles of his book have been much misunderstood and\nmisrepresented. The following statement is believed to be substantially\ncorrect. He taught that Christian perfection consists in the peace of\nthe soul, springing from a complete self-surrender into the hands of\nGod, in the renouncement of all external, temporal things, and in the\npure love of God free from all considerations of interest or hope of\nreward. A soul which desires the supreme good must renounce all sensual\nand material things, silence every impulse, and concentrate itself on\nGod. In a state of perfect contemplation the soul desires absolutely\nnothing, not even its own salvation; it fears nothing, not even hell;\nthe one only feeling of which it is conscious is utter abandonment to\nGod's good will and pleasure; it is indifferent to all else; and nothing\nwhich does not reach the will, where alone virtue resides, can really\npollute the soul. The system was termed Quietism, because it laid so\nmuch stress upon inward quiet, passive contemplation, and silent prayer;\nalso upon freedom from hope and fear, the great agitators of the human\nmind.\n\nIt is a very vulgar error to suppose that the Mystics taught abstention\nfrom good works, or outward inactivity; for none were busier in blessing\ntheir fellow-men, as the twenty thousand letters above mentioned might\nindicate, as well as the ceaseless endeavors in this direction put forth\nby Madame Guyon, F\u00e9nelon, and the rest. Mystics are not impracticable\ndreamers; they have been in a very marked degree energetic and\ninfluential. Their passivity simply meant a calm yet glad acceptance of\nall God's dispensations. They were also abundantly active in the highest\nsense, since the old faculties were transformed and uplifted and no\nlonger shackled by the cramping chains of sin, but enabled to do far\nmore for the good of mankind and the glory of God in their happy,\nhealthy working than they ever had done before. They laid great stress\nupon faith, rather than rites or austerities, as a means of\njustification and sanctification, a peculiarity which seems at the\nbottom of the remark of the Romish ecclesiastic who wrote, under date of\nJuly 10, 1685, \"I am informed that a Jesuit named Molinos has been put\ninto the Inquisition at Rome, accused of wishing to become chief of a\nnew sect called Quietists, whose principles are somewhat similar to\nthose of the Puritans in England.\" There is sufficient similarity\nbetween the Quietism of the seventeenth century and the Pietism and\nMethodism of Germany and England in the eighteenth century to give us a\nfriendly feeling toward it. That the former was not so well guarded as\nthe latter; was less directed to practical ends; was not in control of\nsuch cool, sensible minds; ran very easily into abuses; had stronger\npantheistic leanings; was more open to the objection that it taught a\nstrained, impossible perfection utterly out of reach of all but the few,\nand attainable by those few perhaps only under very favorable\nconditions,--may be freely granted. But it does not, and need not,\nprevent our sympathies going out strongly toward those who, in that\nearlier day and amid much difficulty, struck out the high path on lines\nnot essentially at variance with those who, in easier times of greater\nenlightenment, came after them. The Mystics, with all their\nextravagances, possessed more of the truth of God than could be found\nelsewhere within the wide domains of the Roman Church. The Reformers\nrecognized this, and sympathized far more deeply with them than with the\nschoolmen.\n\nIt should be said, also, that the Quietists vehemently repudiated the\nconstructions put upon their writings by their enemies, and the evil\ninferences which were drawn from them. They protested against what\nothers professed to find there as being no part of their real belief. It\nseems to us that they have a perfect right to be heard in explanation of\ntheir tenets, and much allowance must be made for those endeavoring to\nfind expressions that would convey such profound and lofty thoughts.\nProfessor George P. Fisher, in his \"History of the Christian Church,\"\nsays, \"The real ground of hostility to Quietism was its tendency to lead\nto the dispensing with auricular confession and penances and outward\nrites altogether.\"\n\nIt will be sufficiently evident from what has been now written that\nthere is Mysticism _and_ Mysticism; and that that which has the best\nright to the name lies very close to the most essential truth of the\nbest religion, inseparable from it so far as it is to answer the deepest\nyearnings of the human heart. If religion is not to be made wholly\nobjective, reduced to a round of external performances, accounted\nsynonymous with philanthropy and morality; if its subjective side is to\nhave proper recognition as the controlling one; if being is to take rank\nabove doing, as we firmly believe it should,--then we are all Mystics in\nthe true sense of the word. Since we have to do with \"the love of Christ\nwhich passeth knowledge,\" and which must be known by some higher faculty\nthan the understanding; since the new birth is fitly compared by the\nMaster to the mysterious coming and going of the winds of heaven, and\ncan not be completely comprehended by the human reason; since the method\nof God with the soul of man passes all metes and bounds of man's finite\nmind, and the operations of the Holy Spirit can not be wholly fathomed\nby cold intellect,--Mysticism has extremely close relations with all\nparts of supernaturalism. It is grounded in a profounder philosophy than\nthose can offer who assume to scout and scorn it. We as Methodists,\nespecially, believe firmly in feeling, and in a first-hand knowledge of\nGod as the privilege of each genuine believer. We hold fast to\nexperience as having rights which logic and dogma must respect; we have\nexalted life above theory, and the vision divine above dead orthodoxy;\nwe maintain that there is a God-consciousness, as well as a\nself-consciousness and a world-consciousness; and that spiritual facts\ncan be, and should be, verified in personal experience. We count the\nwords of Pascal divinely true: \"The things of this world must be known\nin order to be loved; but the things of God must be loved in order to be\nknown.\"\n\n\"Mysticism,\" says Professor J. E. Latimer, \"has ever been a reaction\nfrom formalism and dogmatism in religion. When Christian men have been\nrelying upon the letter, the Mystic has always exalted the spirit. When\nthe Church has been content with mere dogmatic statement and\nintellectual orthodoxy, a Mystic revival has come to rehabilitate its\nspiritual life, and sends new streams of power along its arid channel.\"\nDo we not greatly need this revival now? We do not believe there is any\nspecial danger to-day from one-sided subjectivity and morbid\nintrospection. The peril is altogether the other way. Our great want is\na profounder apprehension of the basal truths of the spiritual life, and\ntheir practical translation into individual experience. The knowledge of\nGod is widespread, but it is superficial. Piety is very bustling, but it\nis not deep. The utterances of the Savior and His apostles are taken at\na large discount, and the mass of believers are easily content with a\nlow condition of spirituality. Hence the Church is feeble, and fails to\nimpress itself strongly upon the world. It would be immensely benefited\nby a large infusion of the spirit of the true Mystic, who wages the most\ndeadly war with all carnality; who has a terrible moral intensity; who\nrenounces absolutely all that dims the radiance or shadows the image of\nthe Perfect One in the mirror of the soul; who is determined, so far as\nin him lies, to bridge the gulf that separates him from his Maker and\nmake the closest possible approach to God. Of Rabbi Gamaliel, a genuine\nMystic, it is reported that he prayed, \"O Lord, grant that I may do Thy\nwill as if it were my will, and that Thou mayest do my will as if it\nwere Thy will.\" Charles Wesley, another Mystic, is very bold and says,\n\n  \"Let all I am in Thee be lost,\n  Let all I am be God.\"\n\nWhy should it be thought a thing incredible with any that man may become\na partaker of the Divine nature? If to a small extent, why not, when all\nthe conditions are favorable, to a very large extent? Why should not the\nChurch in general, and the Methodist Church in particular, get a new\ngrip on this much neglected but every way fruitful truth of the Divine\nindwelling and the Divine immanence, God in all and all in God, the\nuniverse but the will of God expressed in forms of time and space,\nhumanity reaching its highest point of development when it most\ncompletely entemples Deity, nature a symbol of God, God revealed in His\nworks? Just so far as this shall be accomplished will the Church swing\nout into a wealthy place, and march forward to large conquest. Complete\nsurrender will be the prelude to complete possession, and complete\npossession will straightway be turned into complete victory over every\nfoe.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAPTER V.\n                          THE GREAT CONFLICT.\n\n\nWe come now to the central period of F\u00e9nelon's career, that wherein he\nput forth his greatest mental exertion, fighting, as it were, for his\nvery life, and for that truth which he held much dearer than life. It is\na period which every sketch of him, however brief, touches upon, and\nwhich we must set forth at some length. The last chapter, on Mysticism\nand Quietism, will have prepared us to consider somewhat sympathetically\nthe career of Madame Guyon, who was so closely linked with F\u00e9nelon\nduring these few years, and who was the chief exponent of the Quietist\nor Mystic beliefs at this time in France. She was born, as Jeanne Marie\nBouvier de la Mothe, April 13, 1648, at Montargis, about fifty miles\nsouth of Paris, and wedded before she was sixteen, by the arrangement of\nher parents, to a man of thirty-eight, M. Jacques Guyon, who was very\nwealthy. She had an unhappy married life, closed by the death of her\nhusband when she was twenty-eight. She had five children, two of whom\ndied in infancy. Suffering was her portion, and religion her\nconsolation, through all her days. When not yet thirteen she read with\neagerness the Life of Madame Chantal, Kempis' \"Imitation of Christ,\" and\nthe works of Francis of Sales, making a vow at this time to aim at the\nhighest perfection and to do the will of God in everything. Later, when\nseventeen, this determination was renewed with fuller purpose and\nintelligence; yet it was not till she was twenty, so limited were her\nprivileges of instruction, that her heart became thoroughly changed, the\npleasures of the world put definitely aside, and her life devoted\nentirely to God. Her education, in a convent, was quite defective, but\nher natural abilities were very great. She had remarkable powers of\nconversation, her intellect was keen, her ascendency over other minds,\neven some of the greatest, in after years was very striking. She learned\nLatin subsequently, that she might carry on her studies more profoundly.\nShe prepared extensive commentaries on the Scriptures, and her writings,\nin their collective form, were issued in forty volumes. Afflictions many\nwere used by the Lord to chasten her spirit and deepen her experience.\nShe lost her mother and father, lost a dearly beloved son and darling\ndaughter, lost her beauty by the scourge of smallpox at the age of\ntwenty-two, lost her dearest friend and religious confidante, Genevieve\nGranger, prioress of the Benedictines, in 1673, and then her husband in\n1676.\n\nIt was July 22, 1672, that she gave herself to the Lord afresh, with\nlarger comprehension and consecration, without reservation of purpose or\ntime, in the most solemn manner, signing and sealing the following\ncovenant: \"I henceforth take Jesus Christ to be mine. I promise to\nreceive Him as a husband to me, and I give myself to Him, unworthy\nthough I am, to be His spouse. I ask of Him, in this marriage of spirit\nwith spirit, that I may be of the same mind with Him--meek, pure,\nnothing in myself, and united in God's will; and, pledged as I am to be\nHis, I accept as a part of my marriage portion, the temptations and\nsorrows, the crosses and the contempts, which fell to Him.\" This sacred\ncovenant of the spiritual marriage with her Redeemer, she carefully\nrenewed and reviewed on its anniversary. Especially noticeable was the\nrenewal in 1681, for it took place in Annecy, at the tomb of St. Francis\nof Sales, who, more than any other human being, was her master in\nspiritual things, as he has been to hundreds of thousands more. When\nleft a widow with large property interests, she first settled up the\naffairs of the extensive estate with much skill, without assistance from\nany one, did much in charity for those around her, looked after her\nchildren, and then gradually felt her way to what was to be her\nlife-work in the world. Her spiritual experience all the while was\nadvancing; she was sinking more thoroughly out of self into God. July\n22, 1680, was a specially memorable epoch with her, when she began to\ncount the life of nature as fully slain within, when her soul seemed to\nbe delivered from all its chains, and set wholly at liberty, in a way\nnot known before. She says, \"I had a deep peace; a peace which seemed to\npervade the whole soul; a peace which resulted from the fact that all my\ndesires were fulfilled in God. I desired nothing; feared nothing; willed\nnothing. I feared nothing; that is to say, I feared nothing considered\nin its ultimate results and relations, because my strong faith placed\nGod at the head of all perplexities and all events. I desired nothing\nbut what I now have, because I had a full belief that in my present\nstate of mind the results of each moment, considered in relation to\nmyself, constituted the fulfillment of the Divine purposes. I willed\nnothing; meaning in this statement that I had no will of my own. As a\nsanctified heart is always in harmony with the Divine providences, I had\nno will but the Divine will, of which such providences are the true and\nappropriate expression.\"\n\nThis extract expresses as well, perhaps, as anything can, the\nmainsprings of her personal feeling and the chief substance of her\nteaching. She always beheld the hand of God in all things, recognized\npractically that God orders and provides every allotment in life, every\nsituation, however distressing to the flesh or perplexing to the\nperceptions. She looked at everything on the side of God, and found Him\nalways manifested in His providences. She was not merely consecrated\n_to_ God's will, she rested _in_ His will, united to it by a most simple\nfaith, finding her joy in Jesus. All that had God in it--and that\nincluded everything except sin--was delightful to her. She found the\norder of Divine providence a very precious and sufficient rule of\nconduct; for she accounted that every successive second, and every\nevent, however minute, had something about it which made known His will.\nHence, trusting fully, and finding God always everywhere, nothing moved\nher. And she came to feel it to be her special mission, since God had\nrevealed these things to her, as He had not to others, to proclaim this\nparticular kind of holiness; a holiness which was a present privilege\nand possession, based upon and secured by faith. This interior life, or\n\"inward path,\" as she sometimes called it, or state of perfect obedience\nto the will of God, had still another name by which it came to be widely\nknown--the name of _disinterested_ (or pure, perfect, unselfish) _love_.\nBy this was meant a love which served God for Himself alone,\nuninfluenced by fear of punishment or hope of reward.\n\nShe was led to go to the south of France, to Gex, Thonon, Grenoble,\nNice, Marseilles; and as she taught these things to those who came\nwithin her reach--and great numbers resorted to her--she began\nstraightway to endure the persecutions which are promised by St. Paul to\nthose who follow the godly life. She preached reality rather than forms.\nThe two great principles which she clearly, strongly proclaimed were\nself-renunciation and perfect union with the Divine will; nothing in\nourselves, but all in God. She urged also the reading and study of the\nBible, which she constantly practiced herself. These things, of course,\nbrought down upon her the severest opposition from the ruling\nauthorities in the Church. Some were jealous of her because she was a\nwoman; some were rebuked in their sins; some felt that she was preaching\nthe heresies of Protestantism; some were offended at the unaccustomed\nterms she employed. The doctrine of full salvation by faith and complete\nconformity to Christ crucified, never popular in any age or land, was\nparticularly obnoxious then and there. When persecuted in one city she\nfled to another, as the Savior directed, being in no haste to justify\nherself, leaving her vindication, for the most part, with God. She was\nable to do a great deal for the Master in spite of continual opposition,\nbeing occupied sometimes from six in the morning till eight at night\nwith those who came to her for spiritual help, writing incessantly also,\nand scattering her productions. She established a hospital in Grenoble,\nand was at all times assiduous in rescuing the fallen and doing good to\nthe needy. In one of her books written at this time, called \"The Method\nof Prayer,\" she rightly says: \"No man can know whether he is wholly\nconsecrated to the Lord except by tribulation. That is the test. To\nrejoice in God's will when that will imparts nothing but happiness is\neasy, even for the natural man. But none but the religious man can\nrejoice in the Divine will when it crosses his path, disappoints his\nexpectations, and overwhelms him with sorrow. Trial, therefore, instead\nof being shunned, should be welcomed as a test, and the only true test\nof the true state.\" She nobly endured this test, not only at this time,\nbut still more signally as the years went on. She arrived again in\nParis, five years after her departure from that city, July 22, 1686.\nHere she became one of the little circle which met frequently for\nreligious and social purposes at the Hotel de Beauvilliers, a circle\nwhich included Madame de Maintenon and F\u00e9nelon.\n\nWhen F\u00e9nelon was in the province of Poitou, at work among the Huguenots\nin 1686, he first heard of Madame Guyon and became somewhat acquainted\nwith her writings, which deeply interested him, as they were drawn so\nlargely from Francis of Sales, his own chief teacher. On returning from\nhis mission in 1687, he passed through the city of Montargis, and made\nthere careful inquiries concerning this woman. He was impressed, says M.\nde Bausset, one of his biographers, \"by the unanimous testimonies which\nhe heard of her piety and goodness.\" On returning to Paris he met her\nfor the first time at the house of the Duchess of Charost, a few miles\nbeyond Versailles, and again soon after at the house of the Duchess of\nBethune. This was in the latter part of 1688, after her release from her\nfirst imprisonment. For her enemies, among whom was her half-brother,\nthe Abb\u00e9 la Mothe, had followed her to Paris, accused her to Monsieur de\nHarlai, the notoriously wicked archbishop, and he easily obtained from\nthe king, to whom it was represented that her doctrines were\nsubstantially the same as those of the heretic Molinos, a _lettre de\ncachet_, or sealed order, putting her in confinement, January 29, 1688.\nShe refused to purchase her liberty by the sacrifice of her little\ndaughter, only twelve years of age, whom the king wished to force into a\nvery unseemly marriage with a person who wished to get possession of her\nlarge property. She refused also to take other means for her release\nwhich did not commend themselves to her as right. She answered them, \"I\nam content to suffer whatever it pleases God to order or permit, but I\nwould sooner die upon the scaffold than utter the falsehoods you\npropose.\" Whether written at this time or at some of her subsequent\nimprisonments, the following hymn of hers so well represents her\nconstant attitude that it is eminently proper to insert it here:\n\n  \"A little bird I am,\n    Shut from the fields of air;\n  And in my cage I sit and sing\n    To Him who placed me there;\n  Well pleased a prisoner to be,\n  Because, my God, it pleases Thee.\n\n  Nought have I else to do;\n    I sing the whole day long;\n  And He, whom most I love to please,\n    Doth listen to my song;\n  He caught and bound my wandering wing,\n  But still He bends to hear me sing.\n\n  Thou hast an ear to hear;\n    A heart to love and bless;\n  And, though my notes were e'er so rude,\n    Thou would'st not hear the less;\n  Because Thou knowest as they fall,\n  That Love, sweet Love, inspires them all.\n\n  My cage confines me round;\n    Abroad I can not fly;\n  But, though my wing is closely bound,\n    My heart's at liberty.\n  My prison walls can not control\n  The flight, the freedom of the soul.\n\n  O, it is good to soar,\n    These bolts and bars above,\n  To Him whose purpose I adore,\n    Whose providence I love;\n  And in Thy mighty will to find\n  The joy, the freedom of the mind.\"\n\nHer friends were not idle, and finally, by the intercession of Madame de\nMiramion, Madame de Maisonfort, and the Duchesses Beauvilliers and\nChevreuse, acting through Madame de Maintenon upon the king, Madame\nGuyon was released in October, 1688. On being set free she took up her\nresidence at the house of Madame de Miramion, and resumed her labor for\nsouls as opportunity presented itself. Early in 1690 her daughter was\nmarried to Count de Vaux, a man of high character, brother of the\nDuchess de Bethune and nephew of the Duchess de Charost; and as the\nchild was scarcely fourteen she went to live with her a little way out\nof the city. Here F\u00e9nelon visited frequently, and when she had once more\nreturned to Paris, hiring a private house for herself there in 1692, he\nmet her much.\n\nWhat of her influence upon him? Those not in sympathy with her ideas, by\nwhom indeed the inner things of the kingdom are pertly dubbed\n\"nonsense,\" have called her \"the evil genius of his life,\" and ascribed\nto her what they are pleased to term his ruin and downfall. We are very\ncertain that he did not himself regard either it or her in that light.\nThey had very much in common. There was the same hunger after the\nhighest religious attainments, and their ideas as to the path were at\nbottom the same. F\u00e9nelon had the theological training which she lacked,\nand hence found difficulty with many of her expressions, which seemed to\nhim objectionable and liable to misapprehension, as doubtless they were.\nBut it seems altogether probable that at this time she was more advanced\nin the spiritual life, more perfectly taught of God, than he. Hence, in\nthe extended correspondence which took place between them, covering a\nspace of some two years or more, from its beginning in November, 1688,\nit is usually he who asks the questions and seeks for explanations. She\nresponded with entire patience and deep religious insight, taking all\npossible pains, as may well be supposed, with so distinguished yet so\ndocile a pupil. To one with so clear an intellect and so sympathetic a\nspirit she could express her thought with the utmost freedom, and his\nenlightened, powerful mind, untrammeled by the prejudices which so often\nprevented--and always prevents--correct perceptions, readily saw the\nvalidity of her views. She herself says: \"I was enabled in our\nconversations so fully to explain everything to F\u00e9nelon that he\ngradually entered into the views which the Lord had led me to entertain,\nand finally gave them his unqualified assent. The persecutions which he\nhas since suffered are the evidence of the sincerity of his belief.\" If\nhe was greatly indebted to her, as everything appears to prove--and as\nmany other eminent men have been to godly women--for getting into a much\ncloser conformity to the will of God, it is no wonder that he was never\nwilling to unite with her enemies in her condemnation, although every\nearthly motive was on that side.\n\nIt was in 1692 that the acquaintance of Madame Guyon with Madame de\nMaintenon became somewhat intimate, so much so that she was often\ninvited to the royal palace at Versailles, and was introduced to the\ncelebrated institution at St. Cyr. Being given liberty to visit the\nyoung ladies there, she talked with them on religious subjects, and\nspeedily acquired the strongest possible influence over them. This soon\nbrought her name into general notice, and excited once more intense\nhostility. One of her servants was bribed to poison her, and almost\nsucceeded. She suffered from the effects for seven years. It is at this\ntime that Bossuet--confessedly the leader of the French Church by reason\nof reputation, learning, and intellectual strength--became alarmed at\nthe reports he heard of the strange influence of this woman in high\nquarters, and determined to put forth his splendid powers for the\nextinction of what he deemed a new heresy. His first interview with her\ntook place in September, 1693, his second, January 30, 1694. He found\nmuch to admire in her positions, but he judged by the head rather than\nthe heart, and was not fully satisfied. Accordingly she wrote to Madame\nde Maintenon, asking that a number of suitable persons might be selected\nto carefully examine her doctrines and her morals; for her character as\nwell as her teachings had been loudly assailed, as is customary in such\nsituations. The king approved of the plan, and appointed three\ncommissioners, the most eminent for virtues and talents that could well\nbe selected, which was a marked tribute to the intellectual power and\npersonal influence of Madame Guyon. They were Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux;\nM. Tronson, Superior of the Seminary of St. Sulpice; and M. de Noailles,\nBishop of Chalons, afterwards the Cardinal Archbishop of Paris. These\npersons had many meetings in 1694 and 1695, and drew up what were known\nas the Articles of Issy. F\u00e9nelon, being on terms of the greatest\nintimacy with these three theologians, was in frequent communication\nwith them concerning the matter, and was often consulted, especially by\nBossuet, while the articles were being framed. When they were completed\nhe was asked to sign them, which, after a few changes and the addition\nof four articles which he deemed essential to prevent misconception, he\ngladly did. Even Madame Guyon gave her assent to them, although they\nbore rather hardly on some of her positions, without mentioning her\nname, and were expressly designed to protect the public against her\nalleged extravagances.\n\nShe was at this time in a sort of confinement in the Convent of St.\nMary, in Meaux, under Bossuet's supervision. He had many interviews with\nher, and, in a letter to the prioress of the convent, said expressly\nthat \"he had examined the writings of Madame Guyon with great care, and\nfound in them nothing censurable, with the exception of some terms which\nwere not wholly conformed to the strictness of theology; but that a\nwoman was not expected to be a theologian.\" He also, at her desire,\nafter six months' residence, gave her a certificate speaking in the most\nfavorable terms of her character and conduct. But no sooner was she\nagain in Paris than her enemies started at once into life. The king was\nalarmed lest Quietism--a system of faith and practice at the complete\nantipodes from his own--should gain further currency, and Madame de\nMaintenon, taking her cue from him, as she always did, ranged herself\npromptly with its enemies. Bossuet also, finding that he had been more\nlenient toward her than was politic, demanded back from Madame Guyon his\ncertificate. This she could not consent to surrender, and he set himself\nwith full determination to crush her. December 27, 1695, she was\narrested and incarcerated in the castle of Vincennes, where she\nunderwent for nine months a very severe imprisonment. She says: \"I\npassed my time in great peace, content to spend the remainder of my life\nthere if such should be the will of God. I employed part of my time in\nwriting religious songs.\" In August, 1696, she was transferred to\nanother prison at Vaugiraud, a village near Paris, where she remained\ntill September, 1698, and was then immured in one of the stern, dark\ntowers of the dreaded Bastile, where she remained four years more in\nsolitary confinement. Just previous to her commitment there she writes:\n\"I feel no anxiety in view of what my enemies will do to me. I have no\nfear of anything but of being left to myself. So long as God is with me,\nneither imprisonment nor death will have any terrors.\" A little later\nshe writes: \"I, being in the Bastile, said to Thee, O my God, if Thou\nart pleased to render me a spectacle to men and angels, Thy holy will be\ndone. All that I ask is that Thou wilt be with me and save those who\nlove Thee. As for me, what matters it what men think of me or what they\nmake me suffer, since they can not separate me from that Savior whose\nname is engraven in the very bottom of my heart. If I can only be\naccepted of Him, I am willing that all men should despise and hate me.\nTheir strokes will polish what may be defective in me, so that I may be\npresented in peace to Him for whom I die daily.\" Her language was:\n\n  \"In vain they smite me. Men but do\n  What God permits with different view:\n  To outward sight they hold the rod,\n  But faith proclaims it all of God.\"\n\nAnd similar are the beautiful words of her hymn:\n\n  \"My Lord, how full of sweet content,\n  I pass my years of banishment!\n  Where'er I dwell I dwell with Thee,\n  In heaven, in earth, or on the sea.\n  To me remains nor place nor time:\n  My country is in every clime;\n  I can be calm and free from care\n  On any shore since God is there.\n\n  While place we seek or place we shun,\n  The soul finds happiness in none;\n  But with a God to guide our way,\n  'Tis equal joy to go or stay.\n  Could I be cast where Thou art not,\n  That were indeed a dreadful lot;\n  But regions none remote I call,\n  Secure of finding God in all.\"\n\nShe made no complaints of those who so cruelly used her. \"They believed\nthat they did well,\" was her only comment. The Spirit of her Savior was\nwith her: \"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.\" In her\nbiography, written later, she says, \"I entreat all such persons as shall\nread this narrative not to indulge in hard or embittered feelings\nagainst those who have treated me with unkindness.\" Her sufferings were\nterrible, but the fortitude and resolution with which she endured them,\nthe steadfastness of her faith, and the meekness of her bearing, are\nworthy of all praise. She does not seem to have doubted for a moment the\ngoodness and truth of God. Her theories were put to the severest of\ntests, and they did not fail her. It is marvelous that she lived to\nemerge from the gloomy walls that were the grave of such numbers, or\nthat the tyrannical, bigoted king ever relented so far as to let her go\nforth. She was liberated when fifty-four years of age (it being evident\nthat she could not survive another year of imprisonment), reduced to\ngreat feebleness, her constitution utterly shattered. Yet her enemies\nwere still afraid to let her stay in the neighborhood of Paris; so she\nwas banished for the rest of her life to Blois, one hundred miles away,\non the river Loire. There, subjected to constant maladies which often\nbrought her to the verge of death, but supported by abundant spiritual\nconsolations, she did good as she had opportunity to the great numbers\nof people who came to see her. Her departure from earth occurred June 9,\n1717, and was both peaceful and triumphant. Just before death, writing\nto her brother, she says, \"Whatever may happen, turn not your eye back\nupon the world; look forward and onward to the heavenly mansions: be\nstrong in faith, fight courageously the battles of the Lord.\" Writing to\nanother friend, and referring to her pains, which she said were so great\nas to call into exercise all the resources and aids of faith, she adds:\n\"Grace was triumphant. It is trying to nature, but I can still say in\nthis last struggle that I love the Hand that smites me.\" She said in her\nlast hours, \"I rely for my salvation, not on any good works in myself,\nbut on Thy mercies, O my God, and on the merits and sufferings of my\nLord Jesus Christ.\" She had no faith in the doctrine of\ntransubstantiation, read the Scriptures much, and urged others to study\nthem, insisting constantly upon the necessity of a real sanctification\nof the heart by the Holy Spirit. That she was one of the high saints of\nGod, her soul a real temple of the Holy Ghost, can in no way be\nquestioned. It is also certain that she had great intellectual power,\nand in the main taught most important and sacred truth. It is easy to\nfind fault with many of her expressions, but her spirit is beyond\npraise. That she did on the whole a grand good work and will have a high\nplace in glory, we are fully convinced.\n\nWe come now to the great conflict between Bossuet and F\u00e9nelon. Up to\nthis time they had been friends, at least outwardly. But there are\ngrounds for believing that F\u00e9nelon's growing and prospective influence\naroused the envy of the ambitious Bossuet, who, no more than the king,\nwas disposed to brook a rival; and the Quietist controversy speedily\ntook on a character which brought the two bishops into the most direct\nantagonism. Bossuet completed, after long labor, early in 1696, an\nexceedingly able book against Quietism, entitled \"Instructions on the\nStates of Prayer.\" He secured the approval of the other members of the\nConference at Issy, and wished to append a favorable testimonial from\nF\u00e9nelon also. The latter examined the manuscript with care, and was\nobliged to withhold his indorsement. He did so on two grounds: He\nthought it contained an absolutely unqualified denial of the possibility\nof the pure, disinterested love of God; and he considered its censures\nof Madame Guyon too personal and too severe. He was perfectly aware that\nthe refusal to comply with the wishes of Bossuet would be a mortal\noffense to that haughty, self-willed prelate, and would also displease\nthe king, probably blasting his worldly prospects. But as a man of honor\nand of true Christian principle he could not and did not hesitate.\nWriting to M. Tronson at this time, he says, \"Am I wrong in wishing not\nto believe evil sooner than can be helped, and in refusing to curry\nfavor by acting against my conscience?\" He declared that he would not\nattack \"a poor woman who is trodden down by so many, and whose friend I\nhave been,\" for the sake of dispelling suspicion against himself; that\nhe would not speak against his conscience or recklessly insult a person\nwhom he had respected as a saint. \"It would be infamous weakness in me,\"\nhe said, \"to speak doubtfully in relation to her character in order to\nfree myself from oppression.\" Other extracts from his letters at this\ntime, had we space to give them, would show conclusively the high ground\nhe took, the only ground which his own character and self-respect, as\nwell as his feeling of gratitude toward the persecuted woman, could\npossibly permit. Had he done otherwise, what would the world now think\nof him?\n\nHis chief friends approved his course, but insisted that he must write\nhis views in full. He did so, producing his elaborate work called \"The\nMaxims of the Saints,\" published in January, 1697. Without naming Madame\nGuyon, it was in fact her defense, the exposition of her opinions as he\nunderstood them, and as she had explained them to him in private. It was\nhailed as a golden work by Cardinal de Noailles, M. Tronson, the Bishop\nof Chartres, and many other leading men of France.[8] But Bossuet was\nroused to fury. \"Take your own measures,\" he said to these men; \"I will\nraise my voice to the heavens against these errors so well known to you;\nI will complain to Rome, and to the whole earth. It shall not be said\nthat the cause of God is weakly betrayed. Though I should stand singly\nin it, I will advocate it.\" But none better knew than he that so far\nfrom standing singly in it he had the warmest possible backing from the\nking. Louis XIV had no love for F\u00e9nelon. He had raised him to certain\ndignities, partly because of his uncommon abilities, and partly because\nof his favor with the public, rather than as a sign of any personal\nattachment. F\u00e9nelon was, throughout his life, the very embodiment of all\nthat Louis did not like, and this, considering Louis' character, was one\nof his chief glories. The two men were so far apart in most things, and\ntheir minds were so differently constituted that there was no common\nbond of sympathy, and the only wonder is how they got along together as\nwell as they did. F\u00e9nelon, while possessing a great superiority of\ngenius, exhibited also an elevation of moral and personal character of\nwhich the king stood in awe, and he was glad that the accusation of\nheresy gave him a good opportunity to be rid of his uncomfortable\npresence.\n\nThe battle was now on, and it was between two giants. Bossuet, the\neagle, was essentially masculine, marked by solidity, vigor, and logic.\nF\u00e9nelon, the swan, was essentially feminine, filled with tenderness,\nspiritual enthusiasm, aspiration. Bossuet had the experience of age,\nF\u00e9nelon the full powers of middle manhood; Bossuet had the greater skill\nin argument, F\u00e9nelon the richer imagination. Bossuet in style, it has\nbeen said, reminds one of the expansive and philosophical mind of Burke,\ncombined with the heavy strength and dictatorial manner of Johnson.\nF\u00e9nelon had a large share of the luxuriant imagination of Jeremy Taylor,\nchastened by the refined taste and classic ease of Addison. F\u00e9nelon was\nnaturally mild and forbearing in disposition, but inflexible in his\nprinciples and incapable of being influenced by pleasures on the one\nhand, or by threats on the other; he was amiable without weakness, firm\nwithout bitterness. Bossuet, on the other hand, was a man of strong\npassions, accustomed to ascendency, impatient of opposition, and, as the\ncontest went on, irritated by the unexpected difficulties he\nencountered, he resorted to means for the carrying of his cause which\nhave left a lasting stain upon his name. But F\u00e9nelon came forth from the\nordeal, even as John Fletcher did in his controversy with Toplady,\nelevated all the higher in the admiration of mankind. Bossuet, in the\ncourse of the contest, referring to one of F\u00e9nelon's publications, made\nthe following remark: \"His friends say everywhere that his reply is a\ntriumphant work, and that he has great advantages in it over me. We\nshall see hereafter whether it is so.\" F\u00e9nelon thereupon addressed a\nletter to Bossuet in the following terms: \"May heaven forbid that I\nshould strive for victory over any person, least of all over you. It is\nnot man's victory, but God's glory which I seek; and happy, thrice happy\nshall I be if that object is secured, though it should be attended with\nmy confusion and with your triumph. There is no occasion, therefore, to\nsay, 'We shall see who will have the advantage.' I am ready now, without\nwaiting for future developments, to acknowledge that you are my superior\nin science, in genius, in everything that usually commands attention.\nAnd in respect to the controversy between us, there is nothing which I\nwish more than to be vanquished by you if the positions which I take are\nwrong. Two things only do I desire--_truth_ and _peace_; truth which may\nenlighten, and peace which may unite us.\"\n\nThe two combatants put forth all their strength, and the conflict\nattracted the eyes of all Europe. Book followed book in close and quick\nsuccession on both sides. Each of the antagonists showed a thorough\nmastery of the subject, and exerted himself to the utmost, stimulated by\nthe importance of the struggle and the large issues at stake, not only\nof a personal nature but of a general character. The whole Christian\nworld looked on with deep interest.\n\nThe chief doctrine that F\u00e9nelon set himself to defend is summarized by\nUpham in the following three propositions: \"First, the provisions of the\nGospel are such that men may gain the entire victory over their sinful\npropensities, and may live in constant and accepted communion with God;\nsecond, persons are in this state when they love God with all their\nheart; in other words, with pure or unselfish love; third, there have\nbeen instances of Christians, though probably few in number, who, so far\nas can be decided by man's imperfect judgment, have reached this state,\nand it is the duty of all, encouraged by the ample provision which is\nmade, to strive to attain to it.\" But the main issue was speedily\nconfused with an abundance of side questions, particular sentences and\nparts of sentences being picked out for attack, much space being taken,\nas in all such cases, with merely verbal criticisms founded on\nmisconceptions or on the necessary imperfection of language. The\ncelebrated Leibnitz remarked that, before the war of words between\nBossuet and F\u00e9nelon began, the prelates should have agreed on a\ndefinition of the word love, and that such a definition might have\nprevented the dispute. The worst thing was that Bossuet, driven to\nextremities by the trouble he found in making headway theologically and\nfearing defeat, descended to a personal attack on F\u00e9nelon's character,\ninsinuating things which he had not the audacity to state plainly or the\nfacts to substantiate. This, of course, reacted. For F\u00e9nelon--against\nhis own wishes, but being shown the necessity of it by his\nfriends--wrote a marvelous reply, of which Charles Butler, one of his\nbiographers, and by no means a partisan one, says: \"A nobler effusion of\nthe indignation of insulted virtue and genius, eloquence has never\nproduced. In the very first lines of it F\u00e9nelon placed himself above his\nantagonist, and to the last preserves his elevation. Never did genius\nand virtue obtain a more complete triumph. F\u00e9nelon's reply, by a kind of\nenchantment, restored to him every heart. Crushed by the strong arm of\npower, abandoned by the multitude, there was nothing to which he could\nlook but his own powers. Obliged to fight for his honor, it was\nnecessary for him, if he did not consent to sink under the accusation,\nto assume a port still more imposing than that of his mighty antagonist.\nMuch had been expected from him; but none supposed that he would raise\nhimself to so prodigious a height as would not only repel the attack of\nhis antagonist but entirely reduce him to the defensive.\"\n\nIt was seen at an early period of the controversy that there was no\nprobability of its being settled by any tribunal short of that of the\npope himself. F\u00e9nelon, seeing the unscrupulous, powerful forces that\nwere arrayed against him in Paris, applied to the king in July, 1697,\nfor permission to go to Rome under any restrictions His Majesty might\nthink appropriate. This the monarch absolutely refused, knowing well, no\ndoubt, that the personal charm of the saintly disputant would be likely\nto carry everything before it. He would only permit him to send agents\nthere to act in his behalf. F\u00e9nelon himself he curtly ordered to proceed\nimmediately to his diocese, to remain there, and not to stop in Paris on\nthe way any longer than his affairs made his stay absolutely necessary.\nF\u00e9nelon received this undeserved sentence of banishment, very roughly\ncouched, with his customary calmness and submission. In passing through\nthe city he stopped before the seminary of St. Sulpice, where he had\nspent so many happy hours, and which he was never to see again; but he\nforbore from entering the house lest his showing a regard for it might\nexpose its inhabitants to His Majesty's displeasure. The king, with his\nown hands, some time after this, crossed off F\u00e9nelon's name from the\nlist of court officials, and also dismissed from service every one\nconnected with him, save only the Abb\u00e9 Fleury, who, though a devoted\nfriend of the archbishop, had never taken any part in the exciting\ntopics of the day. But the rest who had been employed about the Duke of\nBurgundy for nine years, not blamelessly alone but how successfully his\naltered character and advanced education could show, were rudely sent\noff without any acknowledgment whatever of their valuable services,\nwithout even a civil word or a penny of reward.\n\nAnd how went matters at Rome? The Abb\u00e9 de Chanterac, an intimate friend\nand relation, of highest probity and piety, was F\u00e9nelon's agent there.\nThe Abb\u00e9 Bossuet, a nephew of the bishop, a vulgar, blustering,\nunscrupulous fellow, with a most violent, intemperate spirit, fitly\nrepresented the interests of his uncle. The pope, Innocent XII, a man of\na benevolent and equitable temper, found his position a very difficult\none, somewhat similar to that of Pilate at the trial of Jesus. His\nsympathies were wholly with F\u00e9nelon, and there is no doubt that he would\ngladly have given a verdict in his favor, or dismissed the whole matter,\ncould he have done so without mortally offending the king. He had at\nfirst hoped that the business might be settled in France by mild and\nconciliatory measures, and had expressed this wish to Louis; but the\nsuggestion was entirely unavailing. So he was obliged to take up the\nvery unpleasant task. He appointed a commission of ten persons called\n\"Consulters\" to give a thorough examination of F\u00e9nelon's books. But\nafter sixty-four successive and protracted sittings of six or seven\nhours each, at many of which the pope himself assisted, they found\nthemselves so evenly divided in relation to it that no satisfactory\nresult could reasonably be expected from the continuance of their\ndeliberations. The pope accordingly selected a commission of cardinals\nto pronounce upon the matter; but after twelve sittings they were unable\nto come to any conclusion, and were dissolved. Next a new congregation\nof cardinals were selected, and met in consultation no less than\nfifty-two times without getting on very far. The long delays and the\nhesitation shown at Rome to condemn F\u00e9nelon were utterly unexpected by\neither Bossuet or the king, and made them furious. Constantly increasing\npressure was brought to bear from Paris to secure the result pleasing to\nthe monarch.\n\nAt the very beginning, in July, 1697, the king, by Bossuet's\ninstigation, wrote an urgent letter to the pope calling upon him\nspeedily to condemn F\u00e9nelon's book. Missive after missive of similar\npurport went forward, and all the arts of diplomacy, all the influences\nwhich Louis could in any way exert, were unblushingly employed for\nF\u00e9nelon's overthrow. Affairs at Rome, indeed, before long involved\nthemselves into a perfect tangle of chicanery and intrigue, cardinal\nagainst cardinal, ambassador against ambassador. Other courts besides\nthat of France took a hand. The imperial ambassador worked hard for\nF\u00e9nelon; the Spanish minister was zealous on the other side; and a\nsmaller potentate, Cosmo, Grand Duke of Tuscany, a dabbler in theology,\nthrew his weight in the latter direction. The poor pope was violently\npulled, now this way, now that. He greatly liked F\u00e9nelon, admiring his\nbeautiful spirit and appreciating his loyal attachment to the Holy See.\nHe resented the disgraceful attempt to browbeat him on the part of the\ndesperate king and the Bishop of Meaux, a pragmatical, pugnacious bully.\nHe could scarcely see any way of censuring any of F\u00e9nelon's propositions\nwithout censuring also other writers of the same sort, like St. Bernard\nand St. Francis of Sales, whom the Church had delighted to honor. It\nseemed to him also, as was indeed the case, almost if not quite wholly a\ndispute about words. As to a habitual state of disinterested Divine\nlove, the attainment of which was said to be inculcated in F\u00e9nelon's\nwritings, F\u00e9nelon himself uniformly declared his opinion that a\npermanent state of Divine love, without hope and without fear, was above\nthe lot of man. And Bossuet himself allowed that there might be moments\nwhen the soul, dedicated to the love of God, would be lost in heavenly\ncontemplation, and then love and adore without being influenced by\neither hope or fear, or being sensible of either. Their real ground of\ndifference was, after all, very small, and there was much to be said on\nboth sides. And, under all these circumstances, it is scarcely\nsurprising that it took so long to reach a decision.\n\nIt was postponed from month to month in the hope that some chance--the\ndeath of the king or of Bossuet--might relieve the pressure, and allow\nthe papal conscience its rights as against the papal policy. As late as\nthe autumn of 1698, a whole year after the conference of the ten\n\"Consulters\" began, five of them persisted, in defiance of every\npressure that could be brought to bear upon them, in pronouncing the\nbook to be absolutely orthodox, and so proceedings had to be begun\nagain. The real issue of the struggle had probably never been doubtful\nin case the French court insisted. For, as the cardinals said: \"It will\nnot do to fire great guns at the king. Rome's wisest course demands of\nher to yield to him whatever may be yielded without wounding the first\nprinciples of religion.\" It is absolutely certain that, but for this\nunseemly influence, the decision would have been in F\u00e9nelon's favor. As\nit was, the pope and his advisers struggled hard to wriggle out of their\ndilemma with as little violence to their feelings and their honor as\nthey could. After it was settled that they must in some way give the\ndecision as the king so imperatively demanded, there were a great many\nmeetings of the Conclave to decide on the precise form it should take.\nThis required months of wrangling and debate. It was at first intended\nto issue a simple brief, distinctly affirming that His Holiness did not\nintend to condemn the author's explanations of his book, but giving some\ngeneral disapproval of certain inferences drawn from it, and asserting\nthe Church's true doctrine as opposed to the Quietists, without casting\nany blame on the Archbishop of Cambrai. This would have been done had\nnot Bossuet's agents at Rome, assisted by the Cardinal Cassanata, a man\nof most imperious will and overbearing temper, exerted themselves to the\nutmost, fortified by fresh letters from the king dictated by Bossuet,\ninsisting, with hardly veiled threats of the direful consequences that\nwould ensue from disobedience, that the decision be \"clear, precise,\ncapable of no misinterpretation, such as is necessary to remove all\ndoubt with regard to doctrine and eradicate the very root of the evil.\"\nThus badgered and driven and terrified, there seemed to be nothing to do\nbut submit; so at length, on the 12th of March, the whole Sacred College\nwas assembled at the palace of Monte Cavallo, where the decree was\naccepted by the whole body of cardinals, signed by the pope in their\npresence, and immediately posted in all the principal public places of\nRome.\n\nThe book itself, strictly speaking, was not condemned, but only\ntwenty-three propositions which purported to be extracted from it. The\npope took pains to say, and to have it clearly understood, that they\nwere condemned, not in the sense which they might bear or in the sense\nin which they were explained by F\u00e9nelon himself. The propositions were\nsaid to be condemned because, not being worded in conformity with the\nauthor's real intentions, they might insensibly lead the faithful to\nerrors already condemned by the Catholic Church; because they contained\nwords which, in the sense that more immediately presented itself were\nrash, ill-sounding, offensive to pious ears, and erroneous. The\ncardinals refused to associate the name of heretic, or of anything\nresembling heresy, with F\u00e9nelon--his name, indeed, was not once\nmentioned in the brief--and they absolutely rejected the usual appendage\nto a brief of condemnation, an order for the book to be burned. Very\nlittle was really decided. The words were very gentle, and in important\nways noncommittal. Disinterestedness in the larger sense was neither\nasserted nor denied; all that was done was to prune F\u00e9nelon's system of\nwhat might be considered its extravagances. In pronouncing, on the\nwhole, against the \"Maxims,\" Rome had not really declared for Bossuet.\nF\u00e9nelon could lawfully tell his friends that disinterestedness was not\ncondemned, but only its exaggerated statement; self-interest had not\nbeen made an essential condition of our love of God,--it was still\npossible to love Him for Himself, provided that hope and desire of\nheaven were not habitually of set purpose excluded. All this soothed the\nsorrows of the friends of F\u00e9nelon's, as it was designed to do, and\nconsiderably mortified his enemies, which mortification was increased by\na _bon mot_ of the pope, which was soon in every mouth, that \"F\u00e9nelon\nwas in fault for too great love of God; and his enemies equally in fault\nfor too little love of their neighbor.\" The pope, indeed, had repeatedly\ncalled F\u00e9nelon \"a very great archbishop, most pious, most holy, most\nlearned;\" and he gave to the Abb\u00e9 de Chanterac every indication of the\nextreme reluctance with which he moved in the matter.\n\nIt was, on the whole, a very barren victory for Bossuet; but he accepted\nit rather than run any further risk in the long-drawn-out contest, of\nwhich all parties were thoroughly weary. It had cost him dear in both\nreputation and character. No one now, however small his admiration for\nF\u00e9nelon, attempts to defend the steps which Bossuet took or the\ndishonorable means to which in his desperation he resorted to compass\nhis end. He contended not lawfully, and deserves no crown. He showed an\nirritation, rancor, bitterness, and malignity most lamentable; used\ninvective, artifice, and garbled quotations; sullied himself forever by\nthe course he took. With brutal irony and savage harshness he hectored,\nthreatened, plotted, violated confidences, and made accusations as base\nas they were reckless. He used without scruple secret writings which he\nhad received from Madame Guyon, private letters written to him by\nF\u00e9nelon during their early intimacy, and a letter which, under the seal\nof friendship, F\u00e9nelon had written to Madame de Maintenon, and which in\nthis trying hour she unfeelingly communicated to Bossuet, having\nentirely changed in her attitude toward him since the king's animosity\nwas evident. Bossuet's personal charges against his amiable and\nestimable adversary, not believed by any one, showed the innate\nsmallness of his nature, the desperate strait to which he was driven,\nand the degree to which he had let jealousy and rivalry of one greater\nthan he take possession of his bosom. That he himself was of plebeian\nbirth--a bar which kept him from the goal of his ambition in the\ncardinalate--while F\u00e9nelon was of the patricians, had doubtless\nsomething to do with it. He squandered his waning powers on a\ncontroversy which added no luster to his reputation, and brought him no\nnearer to the summit of his desires. Too late he realized that it was\nimpossible to ruin such a man as F\u00e9nelon in the eyes of those who had\nlearned to love him. He might be banished from the Vatican and from\nVersailles, silenced by the pope, and disgraced by the king, but he was\ncherished none the less in the hearts of the devout, idolized and adored\nas an oracle of piety and virtue.\n\nF\u00e9nelon was not once betrayed into abuse or slander throughout the\nstruggle in which he had so much at stake. No unkind word respecting any\nof his persecutors escaped him. He continually exhibited wonderful\ngentleness and dignity, elevated self-respect, the urbanity of a refined\ngentleman, and the grace of an exalted Christian. His style was forcible\nand effective, but with no mixture of sarcasm. Posterity has done him\njustice; has affirmed that throughout this contest no stain rests upon\nhis moral character, and that he was absolutely sincere when he said, \"I\nask God to grant M. de Meaux as many blessings as he has heaped crosses\nupon me;\" _curses_, he might have said. All this while his enemies were\nusing every means \"to hunt him down like a wild beast;\" this was the\nexpression they used. \"Never once,\" says a person who has thoroughly\nexamined the entire correspondence, \"in the mass of letters that F\u00e9nelon\nsent to his confidential agent at Rome, do we come across a mean or\nunjust expression; there is not one letter that one feels inclined to\nwish had not been kept for the sake of the writer.\" As attack after\nattack descends upon him, intended to humiliate and crush, he rises\nabove it, greater and nobler, more faithful in following his Master's\nfootsteps than ever. He continually implored the pope to stop the\nendless war of pamphlets which was doing so much harm to the cause of\nreligion and the Church. It was with the greatest reluctance that he was\nforced into the fight. Under the grossest of libels he would have\nremained silent had his friends consented. But he was compelled by the\nactions of his adversaries to speak out sometimes with great vigor. And\nhe had to obey the voice of his conscience and the dictates of chivalry,\nbeing thoroughly indignant at the unjust treatment accorded to his\nfriend, Madame Guyon. His grief at the rupture of the bond between him\nand Bossuet was deep and sincere. He wrote, \"God alone knows what pain\nit is to me to give pain to one for whom, in all the world, I have the\nmost attachment and respect.\" He wrote this even when he was defending\nhimself from the most virulent attacks; and he would not have called God\nto witness to a profession that was not absolutely true. By his candor\nand simplicity, his openness and gentleness, the beauty of his genius,\nand the reputation of his virtue, he commanded the widest possible\nrespect from all who were capable of appreciating these things. His\nchallenge to his maligners rang out without ambiguity: \"I fear nothing,\nthank God, that will be communicated and examined judicially. I fear\nnothing but vague report and unexamined allegation.\"\n\nF\u00e9nelon, when the decision at Rome was communicated to him, acted as his\nfriends had expected, although some of them had hardly dared hope that\neven he could rise so magnificently to the occasion. He accepted,\nsimply, sincerely, sweetly, with no reservation or concealment or\nhalf-heartedness, what he regarded as, under the circumstances, the\nvoice of God. His brother, the Compte de F\u00e9nelon, heard the tidings\nfirst in Paris, and started instantly for Cambrai, thinking that the\nreception of the news through a kindly channel might at least lighten\nsomewhat the blow. He arrived on the Festival of the Annunciation, just\nas the archbishop was about to preach in the cathedral. However keenly\nhe felt the blow--and he was, of course, human--he was not disconcerted,\nor cast down, or perplexed. Pausing a little to arrange his thoughts, he\nthrew aside his intended sermon, and preached on the duty of absolute\nsubmission to authority. The congregation, among whom the news was\nalready whispered, was most profoundly impressed with the calm dignity,\nthe noble simplicity of their beloved chief pastor; and the eyes of most\noverflowed with tears of admiration, affection, grief, and respect as\nthey listened to his heartfelt words.\n\nHe was not a little harassed, as the days went on, by some zealous,\nwell-meaning folk, who feared that he might not do the best thing, and\nwrote him long exhortations to submit, telling him of the glory he would\nfind in such humiliation and the heroism he would achieve. He wrote to\nBeauvilliers: \"All this wearies me somewhat; and I am disposed to say to\nmyself, What have I done to all these people that they think I shall\nfind it so difficult to prefer the authority of the Holy See to my own\ndim knowledge, or the peace of the Church to my own book? However, I am\nwell aware they are right in attributing large imperfections to me and\nmuch shrinking from an act of humiliation; therefore I can easily\nforgive them.\" He wrote: \"Doubtless it costs one something to humble\none's self; but the least resistance to the Holy See would cost me a\nhundred-fold more, and I must confess that I can see no room for\nhesitation in the matter. One may suffer, but one can not have a\nmoment's doubt.\" He also said: \"Amid these troubles I have the comfort,\nlittle appreciated by the world, but very satisfactory to those who seek\nGod heartily, namely, that my course is clear, and I have nothing to\nhesitate about.\"\n\nHis enemies sought in vain to find a flaw in his submission. One of his\nfollowers wrote: \"Your conduct is a living exemplification of the maxims\nof the saints;\" as indeed it was. The dignified humility with which he\nmet misfortune gave him added reputation. He sent out a pastoral letter,\nshort and affecting, which comforted his friends and afflicted his\nenemies, falsifying every prediction which they had made of the nice\nsubtleties and distinctions with which he would seek to disguise his\ndefeat. His letters at this time breathed in all cases the most amiable\nspirit of peace and resignation. But in general he declined all writing\nand discourse on the subject, and at an early moment dismissed the\ncontroversy as far as possible from his thoughts. The Bishop of Chartres\nwrote to F\u00e9nelon that he was delighted with his perfect submission: \"I\nhave no words to express how my heart is affected with your humble and\ngenerous action.\" The pope wrote most kindly, and all the cardinals,\nexcept Cassanata, sent messages to F\u00e9nelon by the Abb\u00e9 de Chanterac,\nconveying their respect and attachment. \"It is impossible,\" wrote the\nabb\u00e9, \"to praise more than they did your submission, your pastoral\nletter, your letters to the pope, and the whole of your conduct.\" As one\neminent person wrote from Rome, \"He was more glorious than if he had\nnever been condemned.\" The Chancellor d'Aguesseau writes that F\u00e9nelon's\nsubmission made him the hero of the day. \"It stands the solitary example\nin history of a controversy upon a point of such moment which one single\nsentence terminated at the instant, without its reproduction in any\nother form, without any attempt to reverse it by power or elude it by\ndistinctions. The glory of it is due to F\u00e9nelon, who was able to see\nthat a very great desire to justify one's self often does more harm than\ngood, and that the surest way to obliterate wrongs unjustly imputed is\nto let them be forgotten and die out in silence.\"\n\nF\u00e9nelon said, \"In all this, so far from referring it to my opponents, I\nsee no human agent; I see God only, and I am content to accept what He\ndoes.\" \"In the name of God,\" he writes to a friend, \"speak to me only of\nGod, and leave men to judge of me as they like. As for me, I shall seek\nonly peace and silence.\" He had no resentment toward any one; but he\nsteadily refused, with proper dignity and uncompromising adherence to\nthe right, to utter one syllable which could be perverted into a\nsemblance of retraction. He said that since the head of the Church, with\nits superior light and authority, had so judged, he must believe himself\nto have insufficiently explained his meaning, but he declared, in\njustice to himself, that he never understood the text, or supposed any\none else could understand it, save in the sole sense which he had\nhimself assigned to it. While ready at all times to meet his opponents\nin the humblest and most peaceful spirit, as he declared, he declined to\nenter into any negotiations that would imply a yielding of what\nconcerned his conscience or his sense of truth in order to win them. He\nceased to write and converse upon the subject from this time. But in the\ndischarge of his duties among his own people and in his correspondence,\nhe never ceased to inculcate the doctrine of pure love. He thought it\nhis duty to avoid certain forms of expression, and certain illustrations\nwhich had been specifically condemned in the Papal Decree, and which\nwere liable to be misconceived, but he went no further. How could he?\nNor do we find that room to wonder, which some have done, at the\nheartiness and promptness of his submission to what he doubtless felt\nwas, from a human point of view, unjust. He refused to confine himself\nto the human point of view. He held, with General Charles George Gordon,\nand many others in our own day, that, however we may rightly struggle to\nalter events while they are in the process of formation, when once they\nhave come to pass they register a decree of the Almighty, and any\nreluctance to receive them is rebellion against Him, something not to be\nthought of by a truly loyal heart. This theory and practice made earth\nto him very heavenly, and life a triumphant march.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER VI.\n                          THE GOOD ARCHBISHOP.\n\n\nIt is now our privilege to bid farewell to the noise of battle, and look\nat the good archbishop in the peaceful retirement of his great diocese,\nwhere, as all admit, his episcopal duties were perfectly performed. Even\nthe most captious carpers and cavilers at F\u00e9nelon, who can see little or\nno good in any other part of his life and try hard to find some unworthy\nmotive at the bottom of the acts that seem so fair, are sore put to it,\nwhen they come to this portion, to withhold a meed of hearty praise.\nThey are forced to admit that his misfortunes have helped his character,\nand that he shines forth with a luster rarely, if ever, equaled. What he\nwould have become spiritually had the world continued to smile upon him\nis, of course, unknown. Had Louis XIV died and the Duke of Burgundy come\nto the throne, F\u00e9nelon would undoubtedly have reached the cardinalate\nfor which his birth and abilities so well fitted him, and might even\nhave gone higher. But it is not likely that, in the vitiated atmosphere\nof the court, and surrounded by the temptations inevitably awaiting on\nunclouded success, his character could have developed as it did in\naffliction. Some measure of adversity seems to be essential to bring out\nthe best there is in us. His career has been called by some superficial\nobservers \"a splendid failure,\" but the words have no meaning except in\nthe sense in which they might be used of Jesus of Nazareth and a\nmultitude of others who have stood for the highest ideals and have died\nnobly fighting against wrong. F\u00e9nelon did not falter in his course; he\nobeyed at eve \"the voice obeyed at prime;\" he held to the end the\nsupreme purpose which had inspired his earliest reflections. But his\nyears of exile, spent in the single-hearted service of his people, are a\nmore impressive and edifying conclusion to a life begun under the\nauspices of St. Sulpice than if they had been attended with all the\nglories of the papal court. His reverses of fortune gave him an\nadmirable opportunity, magnificently improved, to show that his high\ntheories of resignation and self-surrender, and a serene acceptance of\neverything from God's hand, could work well in practice. Under the\nstress of his troubles he gained new depth and breadth of piety, new\nself-reliance and self-control, larger tranquillity, a more thoroughly\ncompacted character.\n\nCambrai, to which, he was banished in 1697, and where he spent the last\neighteen years of his life, was a town of no great size or beauty, on\nthe river Scheldt, in the extreme north, near the Flemish frontier. It\nwas the ecclesiastical center of the Flemish provinces which were\nconquered during the early half of the reign of Louis XIV, and confirmed\nto France by the treaty of Nimwegen in 1678. Formerly a dependency of\nthe chaotic Empire, there still clung around it some of the prestige of\ndeparted glories when its bishop's jurisdiction extended over Brussels,\nand he governed the territory with almost the power of an independent\nsovereign, having his own fortresses and garrisons and mint. F\u00e9nelon\nhimself ranked both as a Prince of the Holy Roman Empire and as a Duke\nof France, and, though possessing no feudal privileges, he was still the\nprincipal landholder of the province, with a floating revenue of some\nhundred thousand francs, perhaps about a hundred thousand dollars in\nmodern money. It was one of the first positions in the kingdom; but it\nhad some serious drawbacks, especially as a place of permanent\nresidence. He had said on receiving the appointment, \"All is vanity and\nvexation of spirit; I am entering on a state of perpetual servitude in a\nstrange land.\" The people there were Flemings, not Frenchmen, in their\nlanguage, their habits, their modes of thought, with little refinement\nof any kind, their virtues as coarse-fibered as their manners. It was no\nsmall privation for a man like F\u00e9nelon--born for Olympus as it were,\nbred to the best society, and fitted to shine in it with so much luster,\nand in a time when, even more than now, everything centered around the\ncourt at the capital--to be shut out from it all, losing the sympathy\nand friendship which his earlier years had brought him, the daily\nintercourse with minds that reflected his own thoughts yet inspired and\nexhilarated him. For one in the flower of his manhood and at the zenith\nof his capacities, possessing the gift of language in a marvelous\ndegree, with a filled and cultured brain, to be thrown so absolutely out\nof his element, out of the world of books and intellectual equals,\nexiled to a remote corner of the realm amid strangers, was a calamity\nwhose gravity, on one side, it would be wrong to overlook. His\nsufferings, as nature goes, must have been acute. Yet he speedily\nadjusted himself to the situation, and there is no note of repining. For\nmere court favors, its dignities, pomps, and pleasures, he had no real\nlove, and his whole life bears witness to the truth of his often\nrepeated assertions, that he had no wish to return to Paris or\nVersailles; no wish, that is, under the divinely appointed\ncircumstances; for he was able always to find in such circumstances his\nhighest pleasure. Writing to the Duke de Beauvilliers in November, 1699,\nhe says: \"I am sorry, dear duke, to be separated from you, the dear\nduchess, and a very few other friends. But for all else I rejoice in\nbeing away; I sing my canticle of thanksgiving for deliverance, and\nnothing would cost me so much as to have to return.\"\n\nHe by no means settled down into \"a state of passive quietism,\" as some\nignorantly prate, wholly misconceiving both quietism and the man. The\nslightest scanning of the records shows how beautifully and zealously\nactive his last years were. If ever a man threw himself into the\ninterests of others, or made the deep love of God, which he breathed as\nhis native air, take loving shape in strenuous acts, it was F\u00e9nelon. He\nwas quiet, even as was Madame Guyon, and as all other high saints have\nbeen, in so far as to rest with an absolute, unhesitating, unquestioning\nfaith in God's keeping, asking nothing save that His will might be\nperfected in him; but he was most active and energetic in body, soul,\nand spirit for his neighbor's good. The unremitting labors which he\nundertook, and which his vast diocese if properly administered demanded,\ninvolved a life of the most regular industry. He gave but a short time\nto sleep, and his working hours began early, so that he had done nearly\na day's work before saying mass. His habit was to say this in his own\nchapel, after a long time spent previously in prayer, except on\nSaturdays, when he said it in the cathedral, remaining there to hear the\nconfessions of penitents of any and every class who chose to present\nthemselves. He not infrequently preached in the cathedral, but seems to\nhave preferred the town churches, in some one of which he always\npreached the Lenten discourses. He made no effort at oratory, aiming\nchiefly to be plain and intelligible, excluding from his sermons\nsuperfluous ornaments as well as obscurity and difficult reasonings. He\npreached from the heart rather than from the head, and generally without\nnotes, but not without much meditation and prayer. He used to say, \"I\nmust spend much time in my closet in order to be prepared for the\npulpit, and to be sure that my heart is filled from the Divine fountain\nbefore I pour out the streams upon the people.\" He declared against the\npractice of committing sermons to writing and then learning them by\nheart.\n\nTo his clergy he was a father and brother in God, gathering them about\nhim as constantly as possible for instruction and inspiration, moving\namong them with the utmost wisdom, correcting, advising, assisting. One\nof his first cares was the improvement of the seminary for completing\nthe education of those who were preparing for the Church. It had been at\nValenciennes, but he removed it to Cambrai, that it might be under his\nown eye. It was his great desire to reconstruct it on the lines of the\nseminary at St. Sulpice, where he himself had been so profited, and to\nintrust the supervision of the students to priests who were members of\nthat congregation; but he found insuperable obstacles to this scheme in\nthe fear of M. Tronson lest any direct connection between St. Sulpice\nand Cambrai might draw down upon the former the king's displeasure. So\nF\u00e9nelon appointed to the head of it his intimate friend, the Abb\u00e9 de\nChanterac, formerly his agent at Rome, saying, \"He has the wit, the\npiety, and the wisdom to govern it peacefully.\" But F\u00e9nelon devoted\ngreat personal care to the students, examining them himself, and\nendeavoring to estimate their individual capacities. Besides the\ninstruction he gave them during periods of retreat, and at the chief\nfestivals, he conducted conferences once a week, listening with infinite\npatience to their difficulties and replying with the kindness of a\nfather. No priest proceeded to ordination until he had been five times\nexamined by F\u00e9nelon himself. In short, no pains were spared to make the\npriests of this diocese an example to their degenerate colleagues.\n\nIn the general administration of his diocese he concentrated all his\npowers, allowing nothing to escape him, erring, if at all, on the side\nof mercy and toleration, finding it difficult to believe many of the\ncharges brought against his clergy, and only convinced by the most\nconclusive evidence. He abstained from unnecessary acts of authority,\navoided all unnecessary display, removed what was blamable by meekness\nand moderation, improved with prudence and sobriety what was good. His\nadministration was uniformly wise, strict in some respects, and yet on\nbroad and liberal lines. There was no harrying of Protestants or\nJansenists, no bureaucratic fussiness, no seeking after popularity, but\nevery man, great or small, was treated exactly as was becoming. Between\nhim and his flock, his chapter, or his clergy, there was no discord.\nThough by his indefatigable zeal he soon made the district committed to\nhis charge the model of a well-regulated diocese, his biographers do not\nrecord of him a single instance of what are generally called acts of\nvigor, or a single instance of gaudy virtue. The peace of heaven was\nwith him, and was communicated to all around. All local customs, down to\nthe humblest, were handled with a delicate touch, and pardonable\neccentricities of usage were never dealt with severely. In the matter of\npatronage he was careful that no outsider, and still less no relative of\nhis own, should swoop down on the richest livings and secure by interest\nwhat the natives naturally looked upon as their own by right. He\ntraveled throughout the district, making tours of inspection several\ntimes a year, and so coming into touch with every corner, preaching more\nthan once in every one of the six hundred parishes.\n\nThe laity adored him for his charities, for the gentle firmness of his\ngovernment, for the natural grace of manner that enhanced a hundred-fold\nthe value of everything he said and did. Always ready to help, yet\nalways modest in offering assistance, he seemed when about some kindly\naction to be receiving rather than doing a favor. He was always a\nperfect gentleman, a high-bred man of rank, a model of politeness, and\nwas equally adapted to every grade of society. Men of all classes were\nat ease in his company. He directed every one to the subject he best\nunderstood, and then disappeared himself, thus giving them an\nopportunity to produce out of their own stock the materials they were\nmost able to furnish. Thus every one parted from him well pleased with\nhimself. Perhaps no one ever possessed in a higher degree the happy\ntalent of easy conversation. His mind was entirely given up to the\nperson with whom he conversed. No one felt his superiority; every one\nfound him on his own level. In visits to the sick at home, to the\nhospitals and wounded soldiers, he was indefatigable, nor was he a\nstranger to the Cambrai prisons. He went into the cottages of the poor,\nand spoke to them of God, and comforted them under the hardships which\nthey suffered. If, when he visited them, they presented him with any\nrefreshments in their unpretending and unpolished manner, he pleased\nthem by seating himself at their humble table and partaking cheerfully\nand thankfully of what was set before him.\n\nVarious anecdotes illustrate his benevolence. In one of his rural\nexcursions he met with a peasant in great affliction. Inquiring the\ncause, he was informed by the man that he had lost his cow, the only\nsupport of his indigent family. F\u00e9nelon attempted to comfort him, and\ngave him money to buy another. The peasant showed gratitude, but still\nwas sad, grieving for the cow he had lost, to which he was much\nattached. Pursuing his walk, F\u00e9nelon found at a considerable distance\nfrom the place of the interview the very cow which was the object of so\nmuch affection. The sun had set, and the night was dark, but the good\narchbishop drove her back himself to the poor man's cottage.\n\nIn February, 1697, before F\u00e9nelon had permanently left Versailles, news\ncame that a fire had burned to the ground the archiepiscopal palace at\nCambrai, and consumed many or all of his books and writings. His friend,\nthe Abb\u00e9 de Langeron, seeing F\u00e9nelon conversing at ease with a number of\npersons, supposed he had not heard these unpleasant tidings, and began\nwith some formality and caution to inform him. But F\u00e9nelon, perceiving\nhis solicitude, interrupted him by saying that he was fully acquainted\nwith what had happened, adding further that, although the loss was a\nvery great one, he would much rather they were burned than the cottage\nof a poor peasant. This has been adjudged a more touching and pious\nrejoinder than that of the literary man whose library was destroyed by\nfire and who replied to the tidings, \"I should have profited little by\nmy books if they had not taught me how to bear the loss of them.\"\nF\u00e9nelon was taught compassion for men and acceptance of the Divine will\nfrom a higher source than books. At his own expense he rebuilt the\npalace and furnished it in a suitable style of magnificence, but he did\nnot allow the arms of his family to be affixed or painted on any part of\nit.\n\nThe archbishop's day was very carefully laid out, and has been quite\nminutely described. After the early rising, the private devotions, and\nthe public services, he was visible until nine o'clock to those only who\nattended him by appointment. After that, till he dined, his doors were\nopen to all persons who had business with him. Noon was the hour for\ndinner. His table was suitable to his rank, handsomely dressed, with a\ngreat variety and abundance of good food, that his many guests might\nenjoy themselves, but he himself was extremely abstemious, eating only\nthe simplest and lightest viands, and of them but sparingly. Contrary to\nthe custom of most prelates, his chaplains, secretaries, attendants, and\nall officers of the household, sat with him at the same table, making a\nvery harmonious household, among whom conversation was briskly carried\non, F\u00e9nelon taking his part, but leaving every one full scope. After\ndinner all went to the great state bedchamber, which was very finely\nfurnished, but was used mainly as a sitting-room, F\u00e9nelon himself\nsleeping in a little room adjoining, furnished simply with some gray\nwoolen materials and only adorned with a few engravings. General\nconversation was continued in the large room; but a small table was\nplaced before F\u00e9nelon, on which he signed his name to papers which\nrequired immediate dispatch, and took opportunity to give directions to\nhis chaplains on the affairs of the diocese. He said grace both before\nand after dinner. He spent the evening with those that were in the\nhouse, whoever they might be, supping with the people who happened to be\npresent. Supper was at nine. At ten the whole of the household\nassembled. One of his chaplains read the night prayers, and at the end\nof them the archbishop rose and gave his general blessing to the\ncompany.\n\nHis chief amusement, when he found it necessary to relax a little from\nhis arduous toils, was that of walking and riding. He loved rural\nscenes. \"The country,\" he says in one of his letters, \"delights me. In\nthe midst of it I find God's holy peace.\" Everything seemed to him to be\nfull of infinite goodness; and his heart glowed with purest happiness as\nhe escaped from the business and cares which necessarily occupied so\nmuch of his time, into the air and the fields, into the flowers and\nsunshine, of the great Creator.\n\nMany visitors came to him from far and near, attracted by his great\nreputation, and the results of the visits were always the same. Whatever\nthe previous sentiments or opinions, or indifferent or hostile attitude,\nall were enchanted and moved to highest admiration. The Abb\u00e9 le Dieu,\nBossuet's secretary, and Canon of Meaux, in September, 1704, was a guest\nat the palace, and noted everything with the most minute and insatiable\ncuriosity. He found himself treated with the utmost consideration, and\ngiven every opportunity to pry into all that interested him, and came\naway with none but words of hearty praise for all he saw.\n\nA Scotchman, Andrew Ramsay, sometimes called the Chevalier de Ramsay,\nscion of an old Scotch family, exiled for his sympathy with the Stuarts,\nsickened by many aspects of the Protestantism in which he had grown up,\nwandered over all Holland and Germany, hoping to find rest amid the\nphilosophers of those countries, but finding it not. In this condition\nhe came to Cambrai, where the archbishop received him with his wonted\nfatherly kindness, and speedily won his heart. The combination of\nspiritual religion and practical wisdom which he found in F\u00e9nelon, the\nheight of his personal holiness, and the daily-watched beauty of his\nlife, even more than the clear and helpful teachings received, made so\ndeep an impression oh him that he became a convert to the Roman Church,\nand, even when permitted to return to England, he remained faithful to\nthe doctrines which he had learned at Cambrai. He continued there for\nmany months, never wearying of studying his host's mind and soul, and\neventually writing the first life of him ever published. His literary\npowers proved of great value in arranging the writings of his master and\ndefending him from calumny. Subsequently Ramsay became teacher to some\nof the Pretender's family; and there is an interesting story on record\ntelling how the friendship of F\u00e9nelon stood him in good stead at Oxford\nsome years after, showing how in England the good archbishop's virtues\nattracted highest esteem and his name had more influence than even in\nFrance itself. In 1730 Ramsay came to England under a safe conduct, and\nwas received as a member of the Royal Institution on the strength of his\nconnection with the Archbishop of Cambrai. He further desired to take\nthe Doctor's Degree at Oxford. The Earl of Arran, then chancellor of the\nuniversity, proposed him for that honor. Opposition arose in Convocation\non the double ground that he was a Roman Catholic and had been a servant\nof the Pretender; but the opposition ceased when Dr. King, head of St.\nMary's Hall, observed, \"I present to you a pupil of the illustrious\nF\u00e9nelon, and this title is a sufficient guarantee to us.\" Ramsay was\nadmitted to his degree by a vote of 85 to 17.\n\nAnother Britisher, the eccentric Earl of Peterboro, in whom the hero,\nskeptic, and profligate were mingled in about equal proportions, being\namong the visitors to Marlborough's headquarters in the Netherlands\nduring the war, turned aside to Cambrai to make its master's\nacquaintance. He could have had very little sympathy with the saintly\nMystic there, but he could no more resist his charm than could other\nmen. He wrote subsequently to the philosopher, John Locke, that F\u00e9nelon\n\"was cast in a particular mold that was never used for anybody else. He\nis a delicious creature, but I was forced to cut away from him as fast\nas I could, else he would have made me pious.\" He is also reported to\nhave written while there, \"On my word, I must quit this place as soon as\npossible, for if I stay here another week I shall be a Christian in\nspite of myself.\"\n\nCount Munich, afterwards known as Marshal Munich, one of the most\ndistinguished commanders in the armies of Russia, when young was a\nlieutenant-colonel in the forces contending in Flanders. Being taken\nprisoner in battle and conducted to Cambrai, he was deeply affected by\nwhat he saw of the peaceful mind and truly Christian generosity of\nF\u00e9nelon. In all the vicissitudes of his after life, in court and camp,\nhe delighted to the very end of his stormy career to remember the happy\ndays which he passed as a prisoner or ward in the society of F\u00e9nelon. He\nfound the recounting of the things he had witnessed at Cambrai a help in\nsoothing the agitations of his own wild and turbulent spirit and a means\nof permanent instruction in righteousness.\n\nThe celebrated Cardinal Quirini, whose life was devoted to learned\nresearches and useful studies, and who visited all parts of Europe in\nthe prosecution of literary purposes, speaks in the following language\nof his interview with F\u00e9nelon: \"I considered Cambrai as one of the\nprincipal objects of my travels in France. I will not hesitate to\nconfess that it was toward this single spot, or rather towards the\ncelebrated F\u00e9nelon, who resided there, that I was powerfully attracted.\nWith what emotions of tenderness I still recall the gentle and affecting\nfamiliarity with which that great man deigned to discourse with me, and\neven sought my conversation; though his palace was then crowded with\nFrench generals and commanders-in-chief, towards whom he displayed the\nmost magnificent and generous hospitality. I have still fresh in my\nrecollection all the serious and important subjects which were the\ntopics of our discourse. My ear caught with eagerness every word that\nissued from his lips. The letters which he wrote me from time to time\nare still before me; letters which are an evidence alike of the wisdom\nof his principles and of the purity of his heart. I preserve them among\nmy papers as the most precious treasure which I have in the world.\"\n\nHis enemies, we are told, practiced the shameful artifice of placing\nabout him an ecclesiastic of high birth whom he considered only as one\nof his grand vicars, but who was to act as a spy upon him. The man who\nhad consented to take so base an office had, however, the magnanimity to\npunish himself for it. Utterly subdued by the purity and gentleness of\nspirit that he witnessed in F\u00e9nelon, he threw himself at his feet and\nconfessed the unworthy part he had been led to act, and withdrew from\nthe world to conceal in retirement his grief and shame.\n\nAs will be inferred from these incidents his hospitality to those who\ncame to him from all parts of Europe, as well as from near by, was\nunbounded. In spite of the urgency and multiplicity of his employments\nhe was always ready, with the greatest kindness of feeling, to pay the\nutmost attention to all who had the slightest claim upon his time. He\ndid not hesitate to drop his eloquent pen, with which he conversed with\nall Europe, whenever Providence called him to listen to the awkward\nutterances of the most ignorant and degraded among his people. His\npractice and his preference was to suffer any personal inconvenience, or\nsacrifice any private interest, rather than injure the feelings of a\nfellow-man or omit an opportunity of usefulness. Writing to a friend\nabout his daily routine he says: \"I must confer with the Chapter on a\nlawsuit; I must write and dispatch letters; I must examine accounts. How\ndreary would be life made up of these perplexities and details but for\nthe will of God which glorifies all He has given us to do!\" This is the\nkeynote on which F\u00e9nelon toned and tuned his life at Cambrai, making\nhimself the servant of all, ministering rather than being ministered\nunto, glorying in the honor of such services, fearful of the outward\npomps the Church conferred upon him, yet accepting them in all\nsimplicity because he fully believed the Church to be directed by his\nMaster.\n\n\"I have seen him,\" says the Chevalier Ramsay, \"in the course of a single\nday, converse with the great and speak their language, ever maintaining\nthe episcopal dignity; afterwards discourse with the simple and the\nlittle, like a good father instructing his children. This sudden\ntransition from one extreme to the other, was without affectation or\neffort, like one who, by the extensiveness of his genius, reaches to all\nthe most opposite distances. I have often observed him at such\nconferences, and have as much admired the evangelical condescension by\nwhich he became all things to all men as the sublimity of his\ndiscourses. While he watched over his flock with a daily care, he prayed\nin the deep retirement of internal solitude. The many things which were\ngenerally admired in him were nothing in comparison of that divine life\nby which he walked with God like Enoch, and was unknown to men.\"\n\nThe Abb\u00e9 Galet, another of F\u00e9nelon's contemporaries, bears loud witness\nto the fact that, however grand the outside accommodations were, the\narchbishop's personal appointments were of the most modest description.\nHe says that \"in the meager simplicity of his private living rooms,\nfitted up plainly in serge, of his dress--a long velvet cassock trimmed\nwith scarlet, but without gold tassels or lace--even of his\necclesiastical vestments, F\u00e9nelon did homage to that idea of holy\npoverty whose actual practice was forbidden by his station in the\nworld.\"\n\nBut when it came to others, F\u00e9nelon was very considerate and very\ngenerous. When he had cause to send his chaplains into the country on\nany business of the diocese, it was always in one of his own carriages\nand with one of his own attendants, that the respect which he showed\nthem might conciliate to them the general respect of his flock. He took,\nso far as possible, the burdens of his clergy on himself, offered to pay\nmore tax than he needed to, even wasted (as it would now seem) money on\nbeggars whose appearance moved his sympathies. Yet he also practiced\nsound economy, that he might have the more to give, held a careful audit\nof his household accounts, and set aside large portions of his income\nfor the starving soldiers, or the interests of his seminary, or the\neducation of his nephews and their maintenance in the army. He educated\ngreat numbers of students at his own expense, sending them to Paris;\nespecially the young men that were likely to prove good priests, but\nwere too poor to bear the financial burden. He had always a whole string\nof his nephews and grandnephews or other relatives gathered about him,\nyoung people whose education he was asked to take charge of or those\nwhose interests, for friends' or relationship's sake, he was desirous to\npromote. He was never without the presence of children in the palace. A\nsuite of rooms above his own was reserved for them. Not only his\nrelatives, but the sons of his intimate friends, were placed in his\ncare, that he might train them to be good and chivalrous gentlemen. Very\nfew of these boys were intended for the priesthood, but the confidence\nthat F\u00e9nelon inspired was so great that it was believed a child reared\nunder his eye would be better fitted for court or camp than if he spent\nhis early years in the company of princes at St. Germain or Versailles.\nThe last of his little guests were the grandchildren of his friend, De\nChevreuse, and, harassed though he was by national disasters, he could\nspare time to study and report upon them and express his pleasure in\ntheir company. He wrote of the children, \"I delight to have them here; I\nlove them dearly; they cheer me much; they do not trouble me in any\nway.\" They were with him to the end; so that from the day he entered on\nhis duties at Versailles until his death he may be said to have given a\ndefinite proportion of his time and energy to the practical\ndemonstration of his excellent theories of education.\n\nDuring the contest for the Spanish succession, in the early years of the\neighteenth century, between France and Bavaria on the one side, and\nEngland, Holland, and Austria on the other, the diocese of Cambrai, not\nfar from the Netherlands, which has sometimes been denominated the\nbattle-field of Europe, was within the realm of war, and suffered much\nfrom the cruel ravages of the advancing and retreating armies. Under\nthese circumstances, F\u00e9nelon continued his constant visitations to every\npart of the district, and all the writers dwell upon the singular marks\nof homage paid on these occasions to his eminent virtue by people of\nevery name. So far from putting any obstacle in his way, the English,\nGermans, and Dutch took every means of showing their admiration and\nveneration for the archbishop. All distinctions of religion and sect,\nall those feelings of hatred or jealousy which divide nations,\ndisappeared in his presence. He was often obliged to resort to artifice\nto avoid the honors which the armies of the enemy intended him. He\nrefused the military escorts which were offered him for his personal\nsecurity in the exercise of his functions, and, with no other attendants\nthan a few ecclesiastics, he traversed the countries desolated by war.\nHis way was marked by his alms and benefactions, and by a suspending of\nthe calamities which armies bring. In these short intervals the people\nbreathed in peace, so that his pastoral visits might be termed a truce\nof God. The Duke of Marlborough, the Prince of Orange, the Duke of\nOrmond, the distinguished commanders who were opposed to France,\nembraced every opportunity of showing their esteem. They sent\ndetachments of their men to guard his meadows and his corn; they caused\nhis grain to be transported with a convoy to Cambrai, lest it should be\nseized and carried off by their own foragers. St. Simon, by no means his\nfriend, can not say enough in panegyric for his never-ending kindness to\nthe troops brought through Cambrai during the war. The duke paints him\nas moving among the sick and the whole, the known and the unknown, the\nofficers and the common soldiers, with a knowledge of the world which\nunderstood how to gain them all by treating each in his due degree, and\nyet a true and cheerful shepherd of their souls, as constant in his\nministration to the humblest as though he had no other business in life.\nAnd he was no less careful for their bodily comfort; lodged officers\ninnumerable in his palace; hired other houses besides for the same\npurpose; filled them with the sick and wounded, and with poor people\ndriven from the neighboring villages; tended the sick with his own\nhands, sometimes for many months, until their entire recovery; supplied\nthe hospitals with costly drugs and endless streams of food and\ndelicacies, sent out, for all their abundance, in such perfect order\nthat every patient had exactly what he needed. He was on the best of\nterms with the nobles and government officials, not only of his diocese\nbut of all Flanders, even as far as Brussels, and used his influence\nwith them to beg many temporal favors for his people; got his village\nschoolmasters exempted from service in the army, saved the farmers and\ntheir horses from forced labors in the winter, and even warned the\nMinistry at Paris that the devastated country could be the theater of no\nmore campaigns. When the commissariat of the king was in extreme want of\ncorn, the archbishop emptied his immense granaries for their\nsubsistence, and absolutely refused all compensation. He said, \"The king\nowes me nothing, and in times of calamity it is my duty as a citizen and\na bishop to give back to the State what I have received from it.\" It was\nthus he avenged himself for his disgrace. At another critical moment,\nonly a timely advance from his own purse prevented the garrison of St.\nOmer from going over in a body to the enemy, as other unpaid regiments\nhad done. It is no wonder that he became the idol of the troops, who\nsang his praises even in the antechambers of Versailles. And his fame\nstood equally high with those who were fighting against the king.\n\nHe was loved by so many because he was himself so full of love. An\ninstance of his largeness both of mind and heart occurred during these\nclosing years, which deserves to be recorded, for it certainly does not\nstand alone. The English prince known as the Old Pretender was an\nofficer in the French army in 1709, and his duty took him near to\nCambrai. In the conversations which passed between them, the archbishop\nrecommended to him very emphatically never to compel his subjects to\nchange their religion. \"Liberty of thought,\" said he, \"is an impregnable\nfortress which no human power can force. Violence can never convince; it\nonly makes hypocrites. When kings take it upon them to direct in matters\nof religion instead of protecting it, they bring it into bondage. You\nought therefore to grant to all a legal toleration; not as approving\neverything indifferently, but as suffering with patience what God\nsuffers; endeavoring in a proper manner to restore such as are misled,\nbut never by any measures but those of gentle and benevolent\npersuasion.\"\n\nEven against the Jansenists, who were fierce Augustinians, the ultra\nCalvinists of that time in the matter of the Divine decrees, and whom he\nthoroughly disliked, being himself a firm friend of free will, he would\nby no means have harsh measures taken. The sweetness of his disposition\nand his idea of the meekness of God, made him strongly averse to the\ndoctrines of Quesnel and Jansen, which he considered as leading to\ndespair. \"God,\" he said, \"is to them only a terrible Being; to me He is\na Being good and just. I can not consent to make Him a tyrant who binds\nus with fetters, and then commands us to walk, and punishes us if we do\nnot.\" In this he was at one with John Wesley. But he would not, any more\nthan the Methodist, permit persecution of them in his diocese. \"Let us,\"\nsaid he, \"be to them what they are unwilling that God should be to man,\nfull of compassion and indulgence.\" He was told that the Jansenists were\nhis declared enemies, that they left nothing undone to bring him and his\ndoctrine into discredit. \"That is one further reason,\" said he, \"for me\nto suffer and forgive them.\"\n\nOn hearing that some peasants in Hainaut, who were descended from\nProtestants, and who held still the same opinions, had received the\nsacrament from a minister of their own persuasion, but that, when\ndiscovered, they disguised their sentiments and even went to mass, he\nsaid to the Reformed minister: \"Brother, you see what has happened. It\nis full time that these good people should have some fixed religion; go\nand obtain their names, and those of all their families; I give you my\nword that in less than six months they shall all have passports\"--that\nis, to go where they like. The same clergyman, whose name was Brunice,\nhe received at his table as a brother, and treated him with great\nkindness.\n\nTo an officer of the army who consulted him to know what course he\nshould adopt with such of his soldiers as were Huguenots, F\u00e9nelon\nanswered: \"Tormenting and teasing heretic soldiers into conversion, will\nanswer no end; it will not succeed; it will only produce hypocrites. The\nconverts so made will desert in crowds.\"\n\nThe closing years of F\u00e9nelon's life were inexpressibly saddened by the\nnumber of deaths that swept away in melancholy succession nearly all\nwith whom his heartstrings were most closely intertwined. The first to\ngo was his very dear friend Langeron, who died at Cambrai, November 10,\n1710. He probably held a deeper measure of his love than any one else,\npossessed his entire confidence, which was never in the least degree\nshaken by mutual disagreement and reproof. He chose him for a coadjutor\non the mission to Saintonge, shared with him the loving care of the\nlittle prince, to whom he was reader, kept him with him at Cambrai as\none of his chief assistants and a principal amelioration of the bonds\nwhich tied him there. Three days after the death he wrote: \"I have lost\nthe greatest comfort of my life, and the best laborer God has given me\nin the service of His Church, a friend who has been my delight for\nthirty-four years. O, how full of sorrow life is! O God, how much our\nbest friends cost us! The only solace of life is friendship, and\nfriendship turns into irreparable grief. Let us seek the Friend who does\nnot die, in whom we shall recover all the rest. Nothing could be deeper\nor truer than the virtues of him who has died. Nothing could be a\ngreater witness of grace than was his death. I have never seen anything\nmore lovely and edifying.... God's will is done. He chose to seek my\nfriend's happiness rather than my comfort; and I should be wanting alike\nto God and my friend, if I did not will what He wills. In the sharpest\nmoment of my grief I offered up him I so dreaded to lose.\"\n\nStill keener, in some respects, was the loss he experienced in the death\nof the Duke of Burgundy, who passed away February 18, 1712. The ties\nbetween them were of the closest description, and the long separation of\nfifteen years had made no difference in their mutual affection. When the\nyoung man--fifteen years old at the time of F\u00e9nelon's banishment in\n1697--heard of the sad event, he ran to his grandfather and flung\nhimself at his feet, and implored with tears his clemency, and as a\nproof of F\u00e9nelon's doctrine appealed to the change in his own conduct\nand character. Louis was deeply affected, but said that what he\nsolicited was not a matter of favor; it concerned the purity of the\nChurch, of which Bossuet was the best judge. All intercourse between the\ntwo was interdicted, and as both were closely watched by spies, it was\nfour years before the slightest communication could pass between them.\nThen the duke contrived to send a letter in which he declared his\nunshaken love, saying that indeed his friendship but increased with\ntime, and that he was proceeding more steadily than before in the path\nof virtue. When, in 1702, Louis gave the Duke of Burgundy command of the\narmy in Flanders, he petitioned with great earnestness that he might be\nallowed in his passage to the army to see F\u00e9nelon. The king consented\nonly on condition that the interview should be in public. They met at a\npublic dinner, where, of course, but little could be said, as everything\nwas closely watched. But the duke in a loud voice exclaimed, in the\nhearing of all present, \"I am sensible, my Lord Archbishop, what I owe\nto you, and you know what I am.\" F\u00e9nelon writes concerning the interview\nas follows: \"I have seen the Duke of Burgundy after five years'\nseparation, but God seasoned the consolation with great bitterness. I\nsaw him only in public for a short quarter of an hour. One must take\nthings as they come and give one's self up unreservedly to God's\nprovidence.\" After this, there was opportunity for a more frequent\ncorrespondence, and it is most creditable to both parties, filled with\naffection and profoundest deference on the part of the younger man, and\nwith the deepest solicitude and wisest counsels on the part of the\nelder.\n\nThe duke's father, the dauphin, or heir apparent, died in April, 1711,\nleaving, of course, his son as next in the succession to the throne.\nThen, indeed, did F\u00e9nelon's hopes and the hopes of the nation rise high.\nCambrai became thronged with people who thought it well to be in the\ngood graces of one who might very soon be the power behind the throne\nand the most important man in France. But alas! alas for human plans and\nprospects! The dauphine, Burgundy's wife, died February 12th, of a\nstrange malady which baffled all the physicians; then the duke himself,\nhaving caught the infection, died February 18th, and their eldest son\nsuccumbed to the same complaint, March 18th. The royal household was\noverwhelmed, the nation was stunned, and no one felt the loss more than,\nprobably no one as much as, F\u00e9nelon. He writes: \"I am struck down with\ngrief; the shock has made me ill without any malady. My health has\nsuffered terribly, and whatever revives my grief brings on a certain\namount of feverish agitation. I am humbled by my weakness. All my links\nare broken; there is nothing left to bind me to earth; but the ties\nwhich bind me to heaven are strengthened. O, what suffering this true\nfriendship breeds! But if I could restore him to life by turning a straw\nI would not do it, for it is God's will.\" It was undoubtedly the darkest\nhour of his days. He never wholly rallied from the blow, or took the\nsame interest in his labors that he did before. But there is the best of\nevidence that his faith in God did not fail, and that in all the\nsuffering, both for himself and for his country, around which the\ngloomiest shadows seemed now to be gathering, he had no thought of the\nAlmighty unworthy of his goodness.\n\nIn November, 1712, died another most dearly loved and life-long friend,\nthe Duke of Chevreuse, opening up all his wounds afresh, as he says; but\nhe adds, \"God be praised, be it ours to adore his impenetrable\npurposes!\" In August, 1714, F\u00e9nelon lost the last of that special group\nwho had stuck to him more closely than brothers, the Duke de\nBeauvilliers. They had never met since he left Versailles, but their\nhearts were most closely knit. \"Our best friends,\" he wrote, \"are the\nsource of our greatest sorrow and bitterness. One is tempted to say that\nall good friends should wait and die on the same day. Friendship will be\nthe cause of my death.\"\n\nIt was to be even so. His frame was feeble, and these fierce attacks\naffected him severely. In the following November a carriage accident\nentailed another shock to his system, from which he had not strength to\nrecover. In the month that followed, his friends recognized that he was\nfailing visibly. On the first of January he was attacked by a sharp\nfever, and it began to be evident that the end was near. For the whole\nof the six days that remained to him on earth he permitted only the\nreading of the Holy Scriptures. Over and over they read to him 2 Cor. iv\nand v, especially the part about the \"building of God, the house not\nmade with hands, eternal in the heavens.\" \"Repeat that again,\" he said\nmore than once. Other texts of Scripture particularly suited to his\ncondition were read to him again and again. He would try to repeat them\nhimself with a failing voice, while his eyes and his whole countenance\nwere lighted up with a bright expression of faith and love which the\nsacred words inspired. Several times he asked those around to repeat St.\nMartin's dying words, \"Lord, if I am yet necessary to Thy people I\nrefuse not labor; Thy will be done.\"\n\nOn the morning of the 4th he took the blessed sacrament, being carried\ninto the large state bedchamber for the purpose, and gathering about him\nhis attendants, to whom he spoke a few farewell words of tender\nexhortation. On the 6th he received extreme unction, as one about to\ndepart. And immediately after, bidding every one, save his chaplain,\nleave the room, summoning all his strength, he dictated to him a few\nlines addressed to P\u00e8re Lachaise, the king's confessor. Being thus about\nto appear before God, he said: \"I have never felt aught save docility to\nthe Church and abhorrence of the novelties attributed to me. I accepted\nthe condemnation of my book with the most absolute unreserve. There\nnever was a moment in my life when I did not entertain the liveliest\ngratitude and most honest zeal for the king's person, as also the most\ninviolable respect and attachment. I wish long life for His Majesty, of\nwhom both Church and State have so great need. If it be permitted me to\ncome before the presence of God, I will continually ask this of Him.\" He\nmakes in the letter two requests of the king, neither of them for\nhimself or his family: First, that he will appoint to Cambrai a pious,\nworthy, orthodox prelate; and secondly, that he will allow the Cambrai\nseminary to be intrusted to the Sulpician Fathers to whom he owed so\nmuch. The rest of that day and the night following he had much agony,\nand, in a feeble, broken voice, said many times, \"Thy will, not mine.\"\nHe was surrounded by those who loved him best, his two favorite nephews,\nthe Abb\u00e9 de Beaumont and the Marquis de F\u00e9nelon, arriving in haste from\nParis. He gave them all his blessing as long as he could speak. He\npassed away peacefully, amid the tears of all around, at quarter past\nfive in the morning; aged sixty-three years, five months, and one day.\n\nHe was buried in the cathedral of Cambrai, with every tribute of honor\nand respect, but with all simplicity and without ostentation, as he\nhimself directed. In his will, dated May 5, 1705, he wrote, after\ndeclaring that he cherished no thought concerning those who had attacked\nhim save those of prayer and brotherly love: \"I wish my burial to be in\nthe metropolitical church at Cambrai, as simple as may be, and with the\nleast possible expenditure. This is not a mere conventional expression\nof humility, but because I think the money laid out on funerals other\nthan simple had better be kept for more useful purposes; and also I\nthink the modesty of a bishop's funeral should set the example to the\nlaity and lead them to diminish useless outlay in their burial\narrangements.\" The last clause says: \"While I love my family deeply, and\nam aware of the needy state of their affairs, I do not think it right to\nleave anything to them. Ecclesiastical property is not meant to support\nfamily wants, and should not pass out of the hands of those who minister\nin the Church.\" It was found, when his affairs were settled up, that\nafter administering for twenty years the great income of his office,\nwhich was at his own absolute disposal, he ended a life of persistent\nand rigorous self-denial with no money in his coffers, and no debts to\nany man. His public and private life had been ruled by the fundamental\nprinciple which he did not fear to proclaim again and again as his\nconception of truest patriotism: \"I love my family better than myself; I\nlove my country better than my family; I love the human race better than\nmy country.\" All his days declared, also, that he loved God best of all.\n\nHe stood for union with the Divine. He lived ever in the eye of the\nAll-Searcher. All his thoughts and actions had been ruled by the purpose\nto be perfectly pleasing unto Him. He had, no doubt, failed at some\npoints. He was ever ready to confess it, and lament his weaknesses; for\nhe was human. But not many of mortal frame ever kept more steadily\nbefore them from youth to age the high endeavor to be as much as\npossible like Christ. Neither disgrace nor disappointment daunted him.\nThe failure of earthly ambitions only impressed on him the more that he\nhad a message for mankind that was above such things. And though there\nwere probably not many in his generation that were ready to receive his\nlofty words, though there are even now not many who are prepared to\naccept fully his sublime teachings and follow him as he followed the\nMaster, yet there will always be an inward witness in the hearts of some\nof every age that responds to such voices, and leaps with joy at the\nsummons to put everything away, that God may take full possession of His\nown. He was absorbed in the hot pursuit of highest holiness. On this his\nstrength was concentrated. Only thus did he attain the success that was\nvouchsafed him. The spiritual life was to him the only real life. The\nPresence Divine was ever with him. The Spirit of God filled his heart.\n\nDuring the outrages of the French Revolution, in 1793, when the graves\nof the dead were being brutally violated by order of the government with\nwanton cruelty and savage merriment, and the bodies of the great and\nnoble, the learned and pious, were being scattered to the four winds, an\norder from government reached Cambrai directing that all the leaden\ncoffins that were there be sent to the arsenal at Douay to be converted\ninto instruments of warfare. The agents proceeded to the Metropolitan\nCathedral, entered the vault under the altar, took away the bodies of\nothers, but left the remains of F\u00e9nelon; not designedly, it would seem,\nfor they had no veneration for the talents and virtues of the\nillustrious prelate; not accidentally, for what men call chance is only\nthe providence of God. It was the counsel of unerring wisdom that issued\nthe commission, \"Touch not mine anointed and do my prophet no harm.\"\nThere are official documents describing the finding of the body\nafterwards by the mayor of Cambrai. The remains, in a fair state of\npreservation, were reverently sealed up and replaced in the vault. In\n1800 the Emperor Napoleon ordered that \"a monument or mausoleum be\nerected to receive the ashes of the immortal F\u00e9nelon;\" to which they\nwere to be transferred in due time. This was probably not carried out,\nas the existing monument to F\u00e9nelon is in the new cathedral of the date\nof 1825. But his chief monument is in the hearts of men, in the\nveneration and affection felt for him by the whole of Christ's Church\nwithout distinction of name, and in the gratitude of the many, many\nsouls who have been helped on their heavenward journey by his strong,\nwise words and beautiful example.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAPTER VII.\n                         THE SPIRITUAL LETTERS.\n\n\nIt is fitting that we conclude this sketch of F\u00e9nelon with some account\nof his writings, because it is so largely through them that he lives\ntoday. The most complete collection of his works, issued from Paris\nbetween 1820 and 1830, is in thirty-four volumes, 8vo, of which eleven\nvolumes are given to the correspondence. Many of these literary labors\nhave been translated into English; for instance, the treatise on the\n\"Education of Daughters,\" the \"Dialogues on Eloquence,\" the\n\"Demonstration of the Existence of God,\" and the \"Spiritual Letters.\"\nThe last has by far the greatest importance at the present time, has\nindeed an importance for all time. But before taking it up, a few words\nconcerning some of his other productions will be in place.\n\nWhile he was superior at the institution for the New Catholics, in 1687\nor 1688, he wrote a treatise on the authority of the priesthood or the\ndogma of the Apostolical Succession, of course defending it; which\nestablished his reputation as a writer, and attracted the notice of the\nking. Much more important was his work on the \"Education of Girls;\" this\nhas been sufficiently dwelt upon in the first chapter. A treatise on the\n\"Existence of God\" was begun in these earlier years, but leisure did not\nseem to be found for its full development. Even the first part was not\npublished till 1712, and the second did not see the light until three\nyears after his death. It is of little value now, but it made a strong\nimpression on the metaphysical philosophers of the eighteenth century,\nand is especially praised by Thomas Reid. His \"Dialogues on Eloquence,\"\nwith special reference to that of the pulpit (an admirable treatise on\noratory), was not published at all until after his death; neither was\nhis \"Refutation of Malebranche,\" his \"Letters to the King,\" treatise on\nthe \"Authority of the Sovereign Pontiff,\" \"Questions for\nSelf-Examination on the Duties of a King,\" \"Letters on Religion\" to the\nDuke of Orleans, \"Plans of Government,\" and \"Letter to the Academy.\" The\nlatter, written a few months before his death, constitutes his answer to\nthe chief literary questions of his age, and treats more especially of\nthe controversy between the Classic and Romantic Schools. He was a\nthoroughgoing Classicist, an Ancient of the Ancients, insisting on the\nstudy of Greek as a panacea for most literary diseases. He has also in\nthe letter a chapter on the \"Art of Writing History,\" making symmetry\nthe first requirement, and impartiality next. In his eyes a history was\na work of art, with something in it of the epic poem. He suggested,\nfurthermore, that the Academy should devote itself to a detailed\nexamination of the standard works in the French language, and prepare\npopular editions with notes.\n\nAll F\u00e9nelon's writings, it may be said, show much grandeur and delicacy\nof sentiment, great fertility of genius, a correct taste, and excited\nsensibility. A poetical character appears in them all. By assiduous\nstudy the works of the best writers of antiquity were familiar to him,\nand his intimate acquaintance with their productions furnished him a\nresource in every vicissitude of life; they were his ornament in\nprosperity, his comfort in adversity. The charm of his manner in society\nis largely communicated to the products of his pen. They abound in\npassages of splendor and pathos, but their chief excellence is in their\ntender simplicity, by which the reader's heart is irresistibly drawn to\nthe writer.\n\nOf much higher rank in a literary point of view than any of those\npreviously mentioned was his \"Adventures of Telemachus; or, The\nEducation of a Prince.\" It is a fabulous narrative in the form of a\nheroic poem, in which he sets down the truths most necessary to be known\nby one about to reign; and the faults that cling most closely to\nsovereign power are also fully described. It was composed by F\u00e9nelon\nwhile he was preceptor to the royal dukes, and designed exclusively for\ntheir instruction; \"written at chance moments, hurriedly, and piece by\npiece,\" says the author, \"sent to the press by an unfaithful copyist,\nand never intended for the world.\" He insisted that he did not borrow\nfrom real persons, or sketch in the characters of his own time. This was\nundoubtedly true; but no human power could convince Louis XIV that it\nwas so, and the unauthorized publication of it in 1698, just when the\nQuietist controversy was at its height, was extremely unfortunate for\nF\u00e9nelon, and filled the king's cup of wrath to overflowing. He had been\nmore than sufficiently embittered before, but after this there was not\nthe slightest hope of reconciliation; for the book is an idealistic\nportrayal of a commonwealth where virtue has its own again, where there\nis no tyranny, where the king is the father of all his people and the\nchief servant of the State, where duty is lifted far above rights, and\njustice is supreme. Since nothing could be more opposite to all this\nthan the character and conduct of King Louis, it is no wonder that he\ntook it as a personal insult and a deliberate satire. In every part of\nit disrespectful mention is made of ambition, of extensive conquests, of\nmilitary fame, of magnificence, and of almost everything else which\nLouis considered as the glory of his reign. While the author must be\nacquitted of any intention to affront the monarch, which would have been\nmost ungrateful and most ridiculous, it is evident that he must have had\nunconsciously in mind the principal actors in the scenes around him, was\nwholly out of sympathy with them, and was training the young princes on\na totally different model. The book, suppressed, of course, in Paris,\nwas brought out at once in Holland, and became everywhere the rage,\nimmensely popular all over Europe, and, even to the present day, much\nread. It has stood the test of two centuries of existence, has been\ntranslated into many languages, and has made his name familiar to those\nwhom he could not otherwise have touched. Nevertheless, the effect of\nits publication on his fortunes at that time was exceedingly disastrous,\nand his enemies made the utmost use of it against him.\n\n\"The Explanation of the Maxims of the Saints on the Interior Life,\" and\nthe great part it played in F\u00e9nelon's career has been already referred\nto in a previous chapter. The reader will enjoy getting a little fuller\nidea of its contents. Dr. T. C. Upham devoted forty-five pages to\nsummarizing, in a free translation, the forty-five articles constituting\nthe book, and the following extracts are taken from his work, now out of\nprint:\n\n\"Pure love is mixed love carried to its true result. When this result is\nattained, the motive of God's glory so expands itself, and so fills the\nmind, that the other motive, that of our own happiness, becomes so small\nand so recedes from our inward notice as to be _practically_\nannihilated. It is then that God becomes what He ever ought to be,--the\ncenter of the soul, to which all its affections tend; the great moral\nsun of the soul, from which all its light and all its warmth proceed. It\nis then that a man thinks no more of himself. He has become the man of a\nsingle eye. His own happiness and all that regards himself are entirely\nlost sight of, in his simple and fixed look to God's will and God's\nglory.\"\n\n\"When the sun shines the stars disappear. When God is in the soul, who\ncan think of himself? So that we love God and God alone; and all other\nthings _in_ and _for_ God.\"\n\n\"The second state, which follows that of holy resignation, is that of\nholy _indifference_. Such a soul not only desires and wills in\nsubmission, but absolutely ceases either to desire or to will, except in\nco-operation with the Divine leading. Its desires for itself, as it has\ngreater light, are more completely and permanently merged in the one\nhigher and more absorbing desire of God's glory, and the fulfillment of\nHis will. It desires and wills, therefore, only what God desires and\nwills.\"\n\n\"Holy indifference is not inactivity. It is the furthest possible from\nit. It is indifference to anything and everything out of God's will; but\nit is the highest life and activity to everything in that will.\"\n\n\"One of the principles in the doctrine of holy living is, that we should\nnot be premature in drawing the conclusion that the process of inward\ncrucifixion is complete, and that our abandonment to God is without any\nreservation whatever. The act of consecration, which is a sort of\nincipient step, may be sincere; but the reality of the consecration in\nthe full extent to which we suppose it to exist, and which may properly\nbe described as abandonment or entire self-renunciation, can be known\nonly when God has applied the appropriate tests. We can not know whether\nwe have renounced ourselves, except by being tried on those very points\nto which our self-renunciation relates. The trial will show whether or\nnot we are wholly the Lord's. Those who prematurely draw the conclusion\nthat they are so, expose themselves to great illusion and injury.\"\n\n\"Those in the highest state of religious experience desire nothing\nexcept that God may be glorified in them by the accomplishment of His\nholy will.\"\n\n\"Their continual life of love, which refers everything to God, and\nidentifies everything with His will, is essentially a life of continual\nprayer.\"\n\n\"The will of God is their ultimate and only rule of action.\"\n\n\"The most advanced souls are those which are most possessed with the\nthoughts and the presence of Christ.\"\n\n\"The soul in the state of pure love acts in simplicity. Its inward rule\nof action is found in the decisions of a sanctified judgment. These\ndecisions, based upon judgments that are free from self-interest, may\nnot always be _absolutely_ right, because our views and judgments, being\nlimited, can extend only to things in part; but they may be said to be\n_relatively_ right; they conform to things so far as we are permitted to\nsee them and understand them, and convey to the soul a moral assurance\nthat, when we act in accordance with them, we are doing as God would\nhave us do.\"\n\nWe come now to the \"Spiritual Letters,\" which have been called, not\nunadvisedly, \"the most perfect things of their kind anywhere to be\nfound.\" They were written to a very large number of correspondents, both\nmen and women, on the impulse of the moment, and without the least\nthought of publication. Hence they become all the more the most\nauthentic revelation of his inmost mind, a necessary and integral part\nof his character. He wrote as he would have spoken, suiting himself to\nthe knowledge of his hearers, aiming at simplicity rather than ornament,\nbut not disdaining homely similes so far as they will make his meaning\nplain. He draws freely and constantly upon his own experience, so that\nthe letters are a reflection of himself, as well as a storehouse of\npractical religion. Helpful counsel may be found in them for nearly all\nsituations in life and on nearly all topics that are most closely\nconnected with Christian living. For though the persons to whom he wrote\nwere usually in the higher circles--dukes, counts, lords, ladies,\nsoldiers, courtiers, and priests--nevertheless, they were always men and\nwomen, wives and mothers, with human hearts and much the same\ntemptations to combat that come to common people in the present age. The\nletters were written to meet the individual needs of very real persons,\nwritten out of a warm heart and by a mind stored with the lore of the\nChurch on these subjects, as well as gifted with unusual powers of\ndiscernment. F\u00e9nelon was a consummate director of consciences; he moved\nthrough life heavily incumbered with the wants of others, carrying many\nburdens and taxing all his great powers to meet the ever-recurring needs\nof a multitude of perplexed and hungering spirits.\n\nThose who peruse the epistles will readily perceive that they present a\nvery high ideal, yet we do not think they can fairly be pronounced\nharsh. He does not speak in a tone of asperity. He saw far into the\nhuman heart, looked with a piercing eye through the disguises of sin,\ncould follow with unexampled clearness the turnings and twistings and\nlurkings of selfishness. Though the severest of censors, he is at the\nsame time the most pitying. He regards human error with indulgent\ntenderness, and weeps over it as Jesus wept over Jerusalem. Echoes of\nthe Stoic philosophers--Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, Seneca--will\nundoubtedly be found in these letters. Indeed, a very considerable and\nrather curious parallel has been drawn between F\u00e9nelon and Seneca; which\nonly shows the permanence of the principles that regulate the union\nbetween God and the soul under all skies and creeds. There is a close\nsimilarity between these letters and those of Francis of Sales, who\nwrote on the same themes; for the two saw eye to eye. The effusions of\neither Francis, although adapted primarily to a different communion and\ntime, can be recommended almost unqualifiedly to-day to that small\nclass--it will always be a small class--who set themselves, with an\naroused intelligence, a high appreciation of the nature of the task\nbefore them, and an intense determination, to realize, through all\navailable and appointed means, the closest possible approximation to\nperfect union with the Divine.\n\nOur criticisms of F\u00e9nelon's letters are but few, and yet a little note\nof warning should undoubtedly be sounded. No one should read them who is\nnot prepared to think for himself, to use a vigorous common-sense, and\nto select for entire observance only those precepts which commend\nthemselves to his mind as being in complete accord with the Scripture\nand with the most judicious of other spiritual advisers. Almost\neverything he finds will, we believe, thus commend itself. But there\nwill be an occasional use of language before which he will pause and\nmake a note of question or dissent. There will be unguarded expressions\nwhich need explanation. Perhaps the chief words which he will find cause\nto challenge will be those of most frequent occurrence--self and\nself-love. F\u00e9nelon does not use these terms quite accurately, and\nwhoever takes them literally will be led into trouble. Where he says\nself-love he almost always means selfishness, which, in our modern\nnomenclature, is quite a different thing, being the inordinate,\nexcessive, or forbidden love of self, such a regard for the interests\nand rights of self as disregards the interests and rights of other\npeople. This latter is always wrong, of course. But self-love, strictly\nspeaking, is in itself right, perfectly innocent, and of great\nimportance to retain. It is essential to our preservation and\nprosperity, one of the most vital ingredients in our constitution.\nF\u00e9nelon, we think, never recognizes this meaning of the word, never\nseems to know that we have very important, imperative duties to self, as\nwell as to our neighbor and to God. Either he was not familiar with\nthese distinctions so common in ethics now, or he was so profoundly\nimpressed with the danger of overdoing self-love that he did not deem it\nwell to recognize this duty at all. But that surely is a mistake, and\nwith some minds tends to become a very harmful one, leading straight on\nto fanaticism.\n\nHe is never tired of insisting on the absolute necessity for the death\nof self, the destruction of self. But this phrase will not stand\ncritical examination. The peril which always lurks in figures of speech,\nand the tendency to exaggerate which so frequently besets devotional\nwriters of the intense mystic type, is very manifest here. Such writers\nput forward their extreme statements with a laudable desire to make a\ndeep impression on the callous sensibilities of the average reader, and\nwith the idea, perhaps, that large deduction will be made in the\npractical application of their precepts. But many find in this an excuse\nfor throwing the whole subject impatiently aside. We are convinced that\nit is better in such things to state the exact truth with all\ncarefulness and with as few misleading figures of speech as possible.\nThere is certainly an ethical limit to our right of self-abnegation and\nself-impartation. Benevolence has its moral bounds in holiness. A man's\nlife finds its largest fulfillment, not in weakly assimilating itself to\nthe wishes of those around it, but in giving forth some new and\ncharacteristic expression of the life of God. The notions, or even the\nneeds, of one's neighbors are not the highest standard of right living.\nEvery man holds himself in trust for his Creator, and must do his best\nto manifest that Creator, not necessarily according to the conception\nmost prevalent in his immediate circle, but according to the mandate\nwhich has been laid on him. It is this thought which gives the\nprofoundest value to his existence and lifts him above too great\ndependence on popular standards. And it is this thought, properly\ncarried out, which shows how much of unreason there is in the\ndeclaration that self must be totally forgotten, renounced, annihilated.\n\nNo person is justified in doing anything of this sort. Self-preservation\nand self-protection, self-respect and self-esteem, self-defense and\nself-development are manifest duties. It may readily be granted that\nthey are not in any great danger of neglect from the ordinary or average\nindividual. But the extraordinary individual, if wrongly instructed,\nfilled with a zeal not according to knowledge, keenly conscientious,\nmorbidly scrupulous, keyed up to an unnatural pitch and straining after\nan impossible ideal, may do himself much harm and go far astray. To\noverdo is often as bad as to underdo, and causes undoing.\n\nDenunciations of selfishness are always in order, but its boundaries are\nnot so easily defined. Self-love--the instinctive desire or tendency\nthat leads one to seek to promote his own well-being, a due care for\none's own happiness, essential to high endeavor and perfectly compatible\nwith justice, generosity, and benevolence--is a component part of our\nnature, and must be carefully safeguarded. To talk about its\nannihilation or eradication is to talk foolishness; and to attempt such\neradication is to fly in the face of nature; that is, of God. The whole\nquestion, then, between selfishness and self-love is one of degree and\nadjustment and relative rights. No absolute hard-and-fast line can be\ndrawn. One must use his best judgment, enlightened from all possible\nsources, as to what in any given case duty to self and duty to others\ndemands. And that judgment he must follow, even when it materially\ndiffers from the opinion of those who may criticise his conduct. There\nis no virtue in wasting one's self on impossible tasks. Self-sacrifice\nis never ethical if it be a willful spending of self to no purpose. One\nmay do a serious wrong to himself, and confer no real good on any one\nelse, by following the lead of generous, uncalculating, unthinking\nimpulses. The exhortation never to think about one's self is thoroughly\nmischievous, and can only lead to fanaticism and discouragement.\n\nSelf-control, not self-annihilation or extirpation, is the duty of the\nChristian. A man has perfect self-control when his highest powers hold\nthe lower in subjection with perfect ease, and are themselves in\ncomplete harmony with the will of God. He is perfectly free from\nselfishness who gives to self only that degree of attention and care\nwhich is due, and in no way infringes on any of the rights of others.\nAnd he who is keenly desirous of doing this, bearing in mind his natural\nbias the wrong way, will deem it the safer course to go a little beyond\nwhat may seem the due limit. But it is not selfish to be manly, or to\ninsist on being permitted to work out one's calling according to the\nclear, conscious summons from on high. Self-will so much inveighed\nagainst is right, since it is a necessary component part of selfhood.\nWithout self-will and self-consciousness there can be no self; in other\nwords, we cease to be, and are non-existent. Masterfulness should be\ndistinguished from willfulness; the former is not sinful, but a most\ndesirable thing in this world where leadership is so essential to\nprogress. A selfish will, one at any point divergent from the will of\nGod, so far as we know or can ascertain, is always wrong. To tell where\negoism ends and altruism begins in our relations with our fellow-men is\nfar from easy; but it is ever blessed to become absorbed in a great\ncause, and supremely noble to have as the highest object in life the\nglory of God.\n\nSome exceptions must be taken to a few other extreme statements of\nF\u00e9nelon, in which he follows other mistaken writers. The language of\nsuch teachers on humility is overstrained and really false, likely to do\nharm. F\u00e9nelon says, for example, \"Those who are truly humble always take\nthe lowest place, rejoicing when they are despised, and considering\nevery one superior to themselves. We may judge of the advancement we\nhave in humility by the delight we have in humiliation and contempt.\"\nHis motto was, \"Ama nesciri\"--Love to be unknown. Kempis wrote much of\nthis same sort. And John Fletcher of Madeley was constantly offering up\nthe prayer which we have in Charles Wesley's couplet,\n\n  \"Make me little and unknown,\n  Loved and prized by God alone.\"\n\nTo desire to be despised, thought meanly of, accounted as naught, we can\nnot recognize as a fruit of grace in a healthy mind rightly apprehensive\nof the vast importance to usefulness of a good reputation. To think of\nourselves more highly than we ought to think is wrong, but so is it\nwrong to think of ourselves less highly than we ought. The truth above\nall things, facts at any cost whether to ourselves or other people, is\nthe better attitude. No gain can come from falsity on the one side, any\nmore than on the other. To delight unspeakably in the will of God, even\nwhen it involves contempt from those who misunderstand our position, is\nnot the same as delighting in contempt itself. To insist on the lowest\nplace when our recognized and lawful place is higher, would be neither\nwise nor edifying. F\u00e9nelon himself took his proper place as archbishop\nin the cathedral and palace and elsewhere, without diminution from his\nhumility. He showed the latter in his hospital work, and in his familiar\nrelations with those of lower rank.\n\nA little too much is made in some places of the importance of silence.\nThere is not sufficient recognition of the fact that some are in great\ndanger of speaking too little, that there are idle silences as well as\nidle words. The stress laid upon listening to the interior voice is also\ncarried somewhat beyond bounds, and needs counterbalancing by the\nwarning that it is very easy to mistake the utterances of our own\nspirits for those of the Spirit of God, the products of a vain\nimagination for the products of Divine direction. Many have been sadly\nmisled at this point. We need not perhaps specify other strained and\nunbalanced remarks. There are not many of them, and it would be unjust\nto make too much of them; but it is also unsafe to ignore them\naltogether. The letters are all the better in that they demand\nreflection from the reader, and are not to be taken up in a wooden way\nas though they were infallible. Properly perused, with prayer and\nmeditation, they can not fail to be of immense service to the inquiring\nmind and the devotional spirit. There is nothing better as a stimulus to\nthose with lofty aspirations seeking for guidance as to how best they\nmay reach the heights.\n\nA few extracts from the letters, all that our space permits, are\nfurnished, that the reader's appetite may be whetted for the feast to be\nfound in larger volumes. And we can not better close this unpretentious,\nbut we hope useful, little book than with some of the glowing paragraphs\nthat have already done so much good in the world, and are destined to do\nso much more as the centuries roll:\n\n\n                       Easy Ways of Divine Love.\n\nChristian perfection is not that rigorous, tedious, cramping thing that\nmany imagine. It demands only an entire surrender of everything to God,\nfrom the depths of the soul; and the moment this takes place, whatever\nis done for Him becomes easy. They who are God's without reserve are in\nevery state content; for they will only what He wills, and desire to do\nfor Him whatever He desires them to do. They strip themselves of\neverything, and in this nakedness find all things a hundred-fold. Peace\nof conscience, liberty of spirit, the sweet abandonment of themselves\nand theirs into the hands of God, the joy of perceiving the light always\nincreasing in their hearts, and, finally, the freedom of their souls\nfrom the bondage of the fears and desires of this world,--these things\nconstitute that return of happiness which the true children of God\nreceive a hundred-fold in the midst of their crosses while they remain\nfaithful.\n\nWhat God requires of us is a will which is no longer divided between Him\nand any creature; a simple pliable state of will, which desires what He\ndesires, rejects nothing but what He rejects, wills without reserve what\nHe wills, and under no pretext wills what He does not. In this state of\nmind all things are proper for us; our amusements, even, are acceptable\nin His sight.\n\nNo matter what crosses may overwhelm the true child of God, he wills\neverything that happens, and would not have anything removed that his\nFather appoints; the more he loves God, the more is he filled with\ncontent; and the most stringent perfection, far from being a burden,\nonly renders his yoke the lighter.\n\n\n                          The Divine Presence.\n\nThe true source of all our perfection is contained in the command of God\nto Abraham, \"Walk before me and be thou perfect.\" (Gen. xvii, 1.) The\npresence of God calms the soul, and gives it quiet and repose, even\nduring the day and in the midst of occupation; but we must be given up\nto God without reserve.\n\nWhenever we perceive within us anxious desires for anything, whatever it\nmay be, and find that nature is hurrying us with too much haste to do\nwhatever is to be done, whether it be to say something, see something,\nor do something, let us stop short and repress the precipitancy of our\nthoughts and the agitation of our actions; for God has said that His\nSpirit does not dwell in disquiet.\n\nAn excellent means of preserving our interior solitude and liberty of\nsoul is to make it a rule to put an end at the close of every action to\nall reflections upon it, all reflex acts of self-love, whether of a vain\njoy or sorrow.\n\nLet us be accustomed to recollect ourselves, during the day and in the\nmidst of our occupations, by a simple view of God. Let us silence by\nthat means all the movements of our heart, when they appear in the least\nagitated. Let us separate ourselves from all that does not come from\nGod. Let us suppress our superfluous thoughts and reveries. Let us utter\nno useless word. Let us seek God within us, and we shall find Him\nwithout fail, and with Him joy and peace.\n\nLet us be careful not to suffer ourselves to be overwhelmed by the\nmultiplicity of our exterior operations, be they what they may. Let us\nendeavor to commence every enterprise with a pure view to the glory of\nGod, continue it without distraction, and finish it without impatience.\nThe intervals of relaxation and amusement are the most dangerous for us,\nand perhaps the most useful for others; we must then be on our guard\nthat we be as faithful as possible to the presence of God. We can never\nemploy our leisure hours better than in refreshing our spiritual\nstrength by a secret and intimate communion with God. Prayer is so\nnecessary and the source of so many blessings, that he who has\ndiscovered the treasure can not be prevented from having recourse to it\nwhenever he has an opportunity.\n\n\n                             Independence.\n\nDo not suffer yourself to get excited by what is said about you. Let the\nworld talk. Do you strive to do the will of God; as for that of men, you\nwould never succeed in doing it to their satisfaction, and it is not\nworth the pains.\n\nLet the water flow beneath the bridge. Let men be men; that is to say,\nweak, vain, inconsistent, unjust, false, and presumptuous. Let the world\nbe the world still; you can not prevent it. Let every one follow his own\ninclination and habits: you can not recast them, and the best course is\nto let them be as they are and bear with them. Do not think it strange\nwhen you witness unreasonableness and injustice; rest in peace in the\nbosom of God: He sees it all more clearly than you do, and yet permits\nit. Be content to do quietly and gently what it becomes you to do, and\nlet everything else be to you as though it were not.\n\nAs long as the world is anything to us, so long our freedom is but a\nword, and we are as easily captured as a bird whose leg is fastened by a\nthread. He seems to be free; the string is not visible, but he can fly\nonly its length, and he is a prisoner.\n\nDo not be vexed at what people say. Let them speak while you endeavor to\ndo the will of God. A little silence, peace, and communion with God will\ncompensate you for all the injustice of men. We must love our\nfellow-beings without depending on their friendship. They leave us, they\nreturn, and they go from us again. Let them go or come; it is the\nfeather blown about by the wind. Fix your attention upon God alone in\nyour connection with them. It is He alone who, through them, consoles or\nafflicts you.\n\nPossess your soul in patience. Renew often within you the feeling of the\npresence of God, that you may learn moderation. There is nothing truly\ngreat but lowliness, charity, fear of ourselves, and detachment from the\ndominion of sense. Accustom yourself gradually to carry prayer into your\ndaily occupations. Speak, move, act in peace as if you were in prayer.\nDo everything without eagerness as if by the Spirit of God. As soon as\nyou perceive your natural impetuosity impelling you, retire into the\nsanctuary where dwells the Father of spirits; listen to what you hear\nthere; and then neither say nor do anything but what He dictates in your\nheart. You will find that you will become more tranquil, that your words\nwill be fewer and more to the purpose, and that with less effort you\nwill accomplish more good. When the heart is fixed on God it can easily\naccustom itself to suspend the natural movements of ardent feeling, and\nto wait for the favorable moment when the voice within may speak. This\nis the continual sacrifice of self, and the life of faith.\n\n\n                         The Faults of Others.\n\nPerfection is easily tolerant of the imperfections of others; it becomes\nall things to all men. We must not be surprised at the greatest defects\nin good souls, and must quietly let them alone until God gives the\nsignal of gradual removal; otherwise we shall pull up the wheat with the\ntares.\n\nThey who correct others ought to watch the moment when God touches their\nhearts; we must bear a fault with patience till we perceive His Spirit\nreproaching them within. We must imitate Him who gently reproves, so\nthat they feel that it is less God that condemns them than their own\nhearts. When we blame with impatience, because we are displeased with\nthe fault, it is a human censure and not the disapprobation of God. It\nis a sensitive self-love that can not forgive the self-love of others.\nThe more self-love we have, the more severe our censures. There is\nnothing so vexatious as the collisions between one excessive self-love\nand another still more violent and excessive. The passions of others are\ninfinitely ridiculous to those who are under the dominion of their own.\nThe ways of God are very different. He is ever full of kindness for us;\nHe gives us strength; He regards us with pity and condescension; He\nremembers our weakness; He waits for us.\n\nI am very sorry for the imperfections you find in human beings, but you\nmust learn to expect but little from them; this is the only security\nagainst disappointment. We must receive from them what they are able to\ngive us, as from trees the fruits that they yield. God bears with\nimperfect beings even when they resist His goodness. We ought to imitate\nthis merciful patience and endurance. It is only imperfection that\ncomplains of what is imperfect. The more perfect we are, the more gentle\nand quiet we become toward the defects of others.\n\nThe defects of our neighbors interfere with our own; our vanity is\nwounded by that of another; our own haughtiness finds our neighbor's\nridiculous and insupportable; our restlessness is rebuked by the\nsluggishness and indolence of this person; our gloom is disturbed by the\ngayety and frivolity of that person; and our heedlessness by the\nshrewdness and address of another. If we were faultless we should not be\nso much annoyed by the defects of those with whom we associate. If we\nwere to acknowledge honestly that we have not virtue enough to bear\npatiently with our neighbor's weaknesses, we should show our own\nimperfection, and this alarms our vanity. We therefore make our weakness\npass for strength, elevate it to a virtue, and call it zeal. For it is\nnot surprising to see how tranquil we are about the errors of others\nwhen they do not trouble us, and how soon this wonderful zeal kindles\nagainst those who excite our jealousy or weary our patience.\n\n\n                        Not Perfect in a Moment.\n\nNeither in His gracious nor providential dealings does God work a\nmiracle lightly. It would be as great a wonder to see a person full of\nself become in a moment dead to all self-interest and all sensitiveness\nas it would be to see a slumbering infant wake in the morning a fully\ndeveloped man. God works in a mysterious way in grace as well as in\nnature, concealing His operations under an imperceptible succession of\nevents, and thus keeps us always in the darkness of faith.\n\nHe makes use of the inconstancy and ingratitude of the creature, and of\nthe disappointments and surfeits which accompany prosperity, to detach\nus from them both. All this dealing appears perfectly natural, and it is\nby this succession of natural means that we are burnt as by a slow fire.\nWe should like to be consumed at once by the flames of pure love; but\nsuch an end would cost us scarce anything. It is only an excessive\nself-love that desires thus to become perfect in a moment, and at so\ncheap a rate.\n\nWe cling to an infinity of things which we never suspect; we only feel\nthat they are a part of us when they are snatched away, as I am only\nconscious that I have hairs when they are pulled from my head. God\ndevelops to us little by little what is within us, of which we are until\nthen entirely ignorant, and we are astonished at discovering in our very\nvirtues defects of which we should never have believed ourselves\ncapable.\n\nGod spares us by discovering our weakness to us in proportion as our\nstrength to support the view of it increases. We discover our\nimperfections one by one as we are able to cure them. Without this\nmerciful preparation that adapts our strength to the light within, we\nshould be in despair.\n\nTo the sincere desire to do the will of God we must add a cheerful\nspirit that is not overcome when it has failed, but tries again and\nagain to do better; hoping always to the very end to be able to do it;\nbearing with its own involuntary weakness as God bears with it; waiting\nwith patience for the moment when it shall be delivered from it; going\nstraight on in singleness of heart according to the strength that it can\ncommand; losing no time by looking back, nor making useless reflections\nwhen it falls, which can only embarrass and retard its progress. The\nfirst sight of our little failings should humble us, but we must press\non; not judging ourselves with a Judaical rigor; not regarding God as a\nspy watching for our least offense, or as an enemy who places snares in\nour path, but as a Father who loves and wishes to save us; trusting in\nHis goodness, invoking His blessing, and doubting all other support.\nThis is true liberty.\n\n\n                               Humility.\n\nThe foundation of peace with all men is humility. Pride is incompatible\nwith pride; hence arise divisions in the world. We must stifle all\nrising jealousies; all little contrivances to promote our own glory;\nvain desires to please or to succeed, or to be praised; the fear of\nseeing others preferred to ourselves; the anxiety to have our plans\ncarried into effect; the natural love of dominion and desire to\ninfluence others. These rules are soon given, but it is not so easy to\nobserve them. With some people, not only pride and hauteur render these\nduties very difficult, but great natural sensitiveness makes the\npractice of them nearly impossible, and, instead of respecting their\nneighbor with a true feeling of humility, all their charity amounts only\nto a sort of compassionate toleration that nearly resembles contempt.\n\nHumility is the source of all true greatness; pride is ever impatient,\nready to be offended. He who thinks nothing is due to him never thinks\nhimself ill-treated; true meekness is not mere temperament, for this is\nonly softness or weakness.\n\nThere is no true and constant gentleness without humility; while we are\nso fond of ourselves we are easily offended with others. Let us be\npersuaded that nothing is due to us, and then nothing will disturb us.\nLet us often think of our own infirmities, and we shall become indulgent\ntoward those of others.\n\n\n                             Daily Faults.\n\nLittle faults become great in our eyes in proportion as the pure light\nof God increases in us, just as the sun in rising reveals the true\ndimensions of objects which were dimly and confusedly discovered during\nthe night. Be sure that, with the increase of the inward light, the\nimperfections which you have hitherto seen will be beheld as far greater\nand more deadly in their foundations than you now conceive them, and\nthat you will witness, in addition, the development of a crowd of\nothers, of the existence of which you have not now the slightest\nsuspicion. You will find the weaknesses necessary to deprive you of all\nconfidence in your own strength; but this discovery, far from\ndiscouraging, will but serve to destroy your self-reliance, and raze to\nthe ground the edifice of pride.\n\nOur faults, even those most difficult to bear, will all be of service to\nus if we make use of them for our humiliation without relaxing our\nefforts to correct them. We must bear with ourselves without either\nflattery or discouragement, a mean seldom attained. Utter despair of\nourselves, in consequence of a conviction of our helplessness and\nunbounded confidence in God, is the true foundation of the spiritual\nedifice.\n\nDiscouragement is not a fruit of humility, but of pride; nothing can be\nworse. Suppose we have stumbled, or even fallen, let us rise and run\nagain; all our falls are useful if they strip us of a disastrous\nconfidence in ourselves, while they do not take away a humble and\nsalutary trust in God.\n\nCarefully purify your conscience from daily faults; suffer no sin to\ndwell in your heart; small as it may seem, it obscures the light of\ngrace, weighs down the soul, and hinders that constant communion with\nJesus Christ which it should be your pleasure to cultivate; you will\nbecome lukewarm, forget God, and find yourself growing in attachment to\nthe creature. The great point is never to act in opposition to the\ninward light, but be willing to go as far as God would have us.\n\n\n                                Motives.\n\nGod does not so much regard our actions as the motives of love from\nwhich they spring, and the pliability of our wills to His. Men judge our\ndeeds by their outward appearance; with God, that which is most dazzling\nin the eyes of men is of no account. What He desires is a pure\nintention, a will ready for anything and ever pliable in His hands, and\nan honest abandonment of self; and all this can be much more frequently\nmanifested on small than on extraordinary occasions; there will also be\nmuch less danger from pride, and the trial will be far more searching.\nIndeed, it sometimes happens that we find it harder to part with a\ntrifle than with an important interest; it may be more of a cross to\nabandon a vain amusement than to bestow a large sum in charity.\n\nThe greatest danger of all consists in this, that by neglecting small\nmatters the soul becomes accustomed to unfaithfulness. We grieve the\nHoly Spirit, we return to ourselves, we think it a little thing to be\nwanting toward God. On the other hand, true love can see nothing small;\neverything that can either please or displease God seems to be great.\nNot that true love disturbs the soul with scruples, but it puts no limit\nto its faithfulness; it acts simply with God; and as it does not concern\nitself about those things which God does not require from it, so it\nnever hesitates an instant about those which He does, be they great or\nsmall.\n\n\n                              True Prayer.\n\nTrue prayer is only another name for the love of God. To pray is to\ndesire--but to desire what God would have us desire. He who asks what he\ndoes not from the bottom of his heart desire, is mistaken in thinking\nthat he prays. O how few there are who pray; for how few are they who\ndesire what is truly good! Crosses, external and internal humiliation,\nrenouncement of our own wills, the death of self, and the establishment\nof God's throne upon the ruins of self-love,--these are indeed good. Not\nto desire these is not to pray; to desire them seriously, soberly,\nconstantly, and with reference to all the details of life,--this is true\nprayer. Alas! how many souls full of self and of an imaginary desire for\nperfection in the midst of hosts of voluntary imperfections, have never\nyet uttered this true prayer of the heart! It is in reference to this\nthat St. Augustine says, \"He that loveth little, prayeth little; he that\nloveth much, prayeth much.\"\n\nOur intercourse with God resembles that with a friend; at first there\nare a thousand things to be told and as many to be asked; but after a\ntime these diminish, while the pleasure of being together does not.\nEverything has been said, but the satisfaction of seeing each other, of\nfeeling that one is near the other, of reposing in the enjoyment of a\npure and sweet friendship, can be felt without conversation; the silence\nis eloquent and mutually understood. Each feels that the other is in\nperfect sympathy with him, and that their two hearts are incessantly\npoured out into each other, and constitute but one.\n\nThose who have stations of importance to fill have generally so many\nindispensable duties to perform that, without the greatest care in the\nmanagement of their time, none will be left to be alone with God. If\nthey have ever so little inclination to dissipation, the hours that\nbelong to God and their neighbor disappear altogether. We must be firm\nin observing our rules. This strictness seems excessive, but without it\neverything falls into confusion; we become dissipated, relaxed, and lose\nstrength; we insensibly separate from God, surrender ourselves to all\nour pleasures, and only then begin to perceive that we have wandered\nwhen it is almost hopeless to think of endeavoring to return.\n\n\n                            The Human Will.\n\nTrue virtue and pure love reside in the will alone. The question is not,\nWhat is the state of our feelings? But, What is the condition of our\nwill? Let us will to have whatever we have, and not to have whatever we\nhave not. We would not even be delivered from our sufferings, for it is\nGod's place to apportion to us our crosses and our joys. In the midst of\naffliction we rejoice, as did the apostles; but it is not joy of the\nfeelings, joy of the will. The faithful soul has a will which is\nperfectly free; it accepts without questioning whatever bitter blessings\nGod develops, wills them, loves them, and embraces them; it would not be\nfreed from them if it could be accomplished by a simple wish; for such a\nwish would be an act originating in self and contrary to its abandonment\nto Providence; and it is desirous that this abandonment should be\nabsolutely perfect.\n\nThe important question is, not how much you enjoy religion, but whether\nyou will whatever God wills. The essence of virtue consists in the\nattitude of the will. That kingdom of God which is within us consists in\nour willing whatever God wills, always, in everything, without\nreservation. Thus nothing can ever come to pass against our wishes; for\nnothing can happen contrary to the will of God. The interior life is the\nbeginning of the blessed peace of the saints, who eternally cry, Amen,\nAlleluia! We adore, we praise, we bless God in everything; we see Him\nincessantly, and in all things His paternal hand is the sole object of\nour contemplation. There are no longer any evils; for even the most\nterrible that can come upon us work together for our good. Can the\nsuffering that God designs to purify us and make us worthy of Himself be\ncalled an evil?\n\nHappy is he who never hesitates; who fears only that he follows with too\nlittle readiness; who would rather do too much against self than too\nlittle. Blessed is he who, when asked for a sample, boldly presents his\nentire stock and suffers God to cut from the whole cloth. It is thought\nthat this state is a painful one. It is a mistake; here is peace and\nliberty; here the heart, detached from everything, is immeasurably\nenlarged, so as to become illimitable; nothing cramps it; and, in\naccordance with the promise, it becomes, in a certain sense, one with\nGod Himself.\n\nTrue progress does not consist in a multitude of views, nor in\nausterities, trouble, and strife; it is simply willing nothing and\neverything, without reservation and choice, cheerfully performing each\nday's journey as Providence appoints it for us: seeking nothing,\nrefusing nothing, finding everything in the present moment, and\nsuffering God, who does everything, to do His pleasure in and by us\nwithout the slightest resistance.\n\n\n                            Various Advices.\n\nYou may be exercised in self-renunciation in every event of every day.\n\n\nPeace in this life springs from acquiescence even in disagreeable\nthings, not in an exemption from suffering.\n\n\nWhoever will refuse nothing which comes in the order of God, and seek\nnothing out of that order, need never fear to finish his day's work\nwithout partaking of the cross of Jesus Christ. There is an\nindispensable providence for crosses as well as for the necessaries of\nlife; they are a part of our daily bread; God will never suffer it to\nfail.\n\n\nA life of faith produces two things: First, it enables us to see God in\neverything; secondly, it holds the mind in a state of readiness for\nwhatever may be His will. This continual, unceasing dependence on God,\nthis state of entire peace and acquiescence of the soul in whatever may\nhappen, is the true silent martyrdom of self.\n\n\nWith the exception of sin, nothing happens in this world out of the will\nof God. It is He who is the author, ruler, and bestower of all; He has\nnumbered the hairs of our head, the leaves of every tree, the sand upon\nthe seashore, and the drops of the ocean.\n\n\nThis is the whole of religion: to get out of self in order to get into\nGod.\n\n\nTo be a Christian is to be an imitator of Jesus Christ. In what can we\nimitate Him if not in his humiliation? Nothing else can bring us near to\nHim. We may adore Him as omnipotent, fear Him as just, love Him with all\nour heart as good and merciful, but we can only imitate Him as humble,\nsubmissive, poor, and despised.\n\n\nWhat men stand most in need of is the knowledge of God. It is not\nastonishing that men do so little for God, and that the little which\nthey do costs them so much. They do not know Him; scarcely do they\nbelieve that He exists. If He were known He would be loved.\n\n\nThou causest me clearly to understand that Thou makest use of the evils\nand imperfections of the creature to do the good which Thou hast\ndetermined beforehand. Thou concealest Thyself under the importunate\nvisitor who intrudes upon the occupation of Thy impatient child, that he\nmay learn not to be impatient, and that he may die to the gratification\nof being free to study or work as he pleases. Thou availest Thyself of\nslanderous tongues to destroy the reputation of Thine innocent children,\nthat, besides their innocence, they may offer Thee the sacrifice of\ntheir too highly cherished reputation. By the cunning artifices of the\nenvious Thou layest low the fortunes of those whose hearts were too much\nset upon their prosperity. Thus Thou mercifully strewest bitterness over\neverything that is not Thyself, to the end that our hearts, formed to\nlove Thee and to exist upon Thy love, may be, as it were, constrained to\nreturn to Thee by a want of satisfaction in everything else.\n\n  \"O 'tis enough whate'er befall,\n  To know that God is all in all.\n  'Tis this which makes my treasure,\n    'Tis this which brings my gain;\n  Converting woe to pleasure,\n    And reaping joy from pain.\"\n                                                         _Madame Guyon._\n\n  \"There are in the loud-stunning tide\n    Of human care and crime,\n  With whom the melodies abide\n    Of the everlasting chime,\n  Who carry music in their heart\n  Through dusky lane and wrangling mart;\n  Plying their daily task with busier feet,\n  Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat.\"\n                                                                _Keble._\n\n\n\n\n                               Footnotes\n\n\n[1]This edition of the \"Letters,\" edited by H. L. Sidney Lear, is also\n    published by the Longmans of London. There is an abridged edition,\n    in paper, for fifteen cents, for sale by George W. McCalls,\n    Philadelphia, who also publishes F\u00e9nelon's \"Christian Counsel,\"\n    \"Spiritual Letters\" of Madame Guyon, \"Life of Dr. John Tauler,\" and\n    other similar books. The five most important Lives of F\u00e9nelon are by\n    E. K. Sanders, Longmans, London, 1901; by Viscount St. Cyres,\n    Methuen & Co., London, 1901; by H. L. Sidney Lear, Rivingtons,\n    London, 1877; by Dr. T. C. Upham, Harpers, New York, 1846; and by\n    Charles Butler, Esq., John Murray, London, 1819.\n\n[2]Quoted in _The American Presbyterian and Theological Review_ for\n    October, 1863, page 674, and also in McClintock and Strong's\n    Cyclopedia, Vol. III, page 529.\n\n[3]The celebrated historian of the Reformation, J. H. Merle d'Aubigne,\n    who died at Geneva in 1872, was descended from the same family.\n\n[4]The principal sources of information on this important subject of\n    Mysticism, from which we have drawn and to which we would refer such\n    readers as wish to investigate the question further, are the\n    following: \"Christian Mysticism,\" by William Ralph Inge, being the\n    Bampton Lectures for 1899; Vaughan's \"Hours With the Mystics;\"\n    articles in the Encyclopedia Britannica; Schaff-Herzog Cyclopedia;\n    McClintock and Strong's Cyclopedia; articles in the _Methodist\n    Quarterly Review_ for January, 1860, January, 1869, and July, 1878;\n    various Church Histories, and Histories of Doctrine, together with\n    the Lives and Writings of the main Mystics mentioned in the present\n    chapter and the chapter which follows.\n\n[5]Even Spinoza said, \"He that would love God aright must not seek to be\n    loved in return;\" and Goethe confessed himself haunted by this\n    wonderful saying. It is fully in accord with the fact that the most\n    chivalrous and generous friendship is never concerned about payment\n    in kind, about what it shall get in return; it only asks the\n    privilege of loving and of pouring itself out unstintedly for its\n    beloved. Disinterestedness should not probably be pressed as a\n    requirement upon minds not capable of such heights, but it has a\n    grandeur that appeals sometimes to nearly all. This was especially\n    the case in an age when Jesuit cheapjacks were accustomed to haggle\n    with God for the price of the soul, and discuss whether it was\n    necessary to love Him once in a week or once in a year, or whether\n    salvation might not be purchased still more cheaply at the price of\n    one act of love in a lifetime.\n\n[6]Inge says: \"Fiery energy and unresting industry characterized St.\n    John of the Cross. No one ever climbed the rugged peaks of Mt.\n    Carmel with more heroic courage and patience. His life shows what\n    tremendous moral force is generated by complete self-surrender to\n    God. His reward was fellowship with Christ in suffering.\"\n\n[7]See \"Honey from Many Hives,\" gathered by Rev. James Mudge, New York,\n    Eaton and Mains, 1899. Large quotations also from Francis of Sales\n    are given in this volume, and from many other Mystical writers.\n\n[8]F\u00e9nelon, on sending the manuscript to the Archbishop of Paris used\n    these words: \"I have done what I believed to be my duty, and I leave\n    the rest to God. I do not care about my work. I am not even anxious\n    about truth, God will care for it.\"\n\n\n\n\n                          Transcriber's Notes\n\n\n--Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook\n  is public-domain in the country of publication.\n\n--Created cover and spine images based on elements in the book.\n\n--Silently corrected a few palpable typos.\n\n--In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by\n  _underscores_.","title":"F\u00e9nelon: The Mystic","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":55211}