ilillll

YALE
DIVINITY SCHOOL
LIBRARY

Gift of
JOHN R. MOTT

HISTORY
OF THE
LIFE OF FENELON
(ARCHBISHOP OF CAMBRAY).

Andrew Michael Ramsay,
D.C.L., F.R.S.,
Author of The Travels of Cyrus, &c.

Translated from the French Edition of 1723,
With a Biographical Memoir of the Author,
Bibliography, and Notes,
BY
DAVID CUTHBERTSON.

J. AND R. PARLANE, PAISLEY.
JOHN MENZIES AND CO., EDINBURGH AND GLA5GOW.
HOULSTON AND SONS, LONDON.
1897.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

Frontispiece ( Reproduction from ed. of 1733)
Memoir of the Author  I
Bibliography  . 11
Preface  15
History of the Life of Fenelon . . . 17
Philosophic Discourse Concerning the Love
of God (Analysis of Fenelon's Principles) 233
Notes  263

BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR
OF
ANDREW MICHAEL RAMSAY,
D.C.L., F.R.S.

BY THE TRANSLATOR.

Andrew Michael Ramsay, better known
as the Chevalier Ramsay, and author of the
first " Life of Fenelon," was born at Ayr, on
the 9th of June, 1686.
He was descended from an ancient Scottish
family. His father, who followed the occupa
tion of a baker, was a staunch Protestant,
and a man of considerable culture, with a
spirit of the real covenanting type.
Although the citizens of Ayr clung to their
principles with fearless tenacity, they yet
were liberal enough in 1679 to admit "John
Grahame of Clavers, captain to ane of his
majesties troups of horse," as a burgess of the
town; while in 1683 they sent the drummer
to warn the inhabitants not to give trust to
the soldiers, for if they did, "they would
never be paid," — and all this in spite of a
strong body of the troopers of Claverhouse
being quartered there. Such facts as these
aid us somewhat in gauging the atmosphere
of the place in which our worthy Scot was
cradled, and wherein he spent his boyhood

2 History of the
years. Ayr, at this period, possessed one of
the best burgh schools in Scotland, and it
was here that Andrew received the rudiments
of his education. He afterwards went, at the
age of fourteen, to Edinburgh University, in
1700, where he studied for over three years,
taking a deep interest and delight in mathe
matical and theological pursuits, as well as
in antiquarian and classical researches.
Andrew had an exceedingly sensitive and
scrupulous nature. Away from home his
mind began to be beset with doubts and
fears concerning the bed-rock of faith on
which his religion had been founded, and for
long, in spite of a considerable amount of
epistolary communication with various clergy
men of Edinburgh, Glasgow, and London,
he was so beset, like Bunyan's Christian, with
doubts and fears, that he found no rest for
heart or mind. Religion in Scotland, at
this period, was merely a name, full of lati-
tudinarianism and dry rot, and to a young
man like Ramsay, whose life was pulsing full
of deep spirituality seeking a proper outlet,
the apathy and party spirit of Protestantism
was exceedingly thwarting to his growth.
He never lost his belief in the existence of
God, but, for a time, took refuge in Deism.
There is a strong probability for believing
that he imbibed mystical views ere leaving
Edinburgh, heightened, doubtless, through
the trial there of a northern clergyman for
entertaining and upholding what were called
the pernicious views and doctrines of
Antoinette Bourignon, who had found a con
siderable following in Aberdeen.

Life of Fdnelon. 3
He studied and became an enthusiastic
disciple of Newton, taking intense delight in
his Principia, while he was a great admirer
of the sermons of Tillotson. Ramsay was
afterwards appointed tutor to the two sons
of the Earl of Wemyss. Writing from
Isleworth in 1709 to a friend who after
wards became known as Bishop Keith, he
says, "All my ambition now is to live for
gotten by all," and "I have nothing to in
terrupt my conversation within, but an hour
or two's attendance at night upon two of the
most innocent and sprightly little boys I
ever knew." In spite of these expressions
and the inference of suitable environments
expressed in them, Ramsay, a few months
later on, threw up his engagement, left
England for Leyden in quest of the highest
good, the summum bonum of his existence.1
Here he met in with the famous mystic
divine M. Poiret, who had studied the works
of Thomas a Kempis, Antoinette Bourignon,
and Madam Guyon. Not fully satisfied with
the instructions he received from M. Poiret,
and ever anxious to pursue the truth for its
own sake, Ramsay, after receiving introduc
tions to F£nelon, from several of the officers
engaged in the Spanish Succession war then
1 Hill Burton has a mistaken impression with regard to this
step of Ramsay's. He says: "There were other men who
seemed to see that they must go elsewhere to nourish their
literary ambition. There was Michael Thomas (sic) Ramsay,
the Author of the Life ofTitrenne and the Travels of Cyrus,
who preferred the French language to his own." Hist, of
Scotland, vol. viii., p. 553. It was religious unrest that led
Ramsay abroad and not any dream of literary fame ; but as Hill
Burton does not mention our author in his work on The Scot
Abroad, his knowledge of his aims must be estimated by this
fact. fD. C.)

4 History of the
raging, made his way to Cambray, the result
of this journey being chronicled in the
ensuing pages.
Through Fenelon's interest he obtained
the post of tutor to the Duke of Chateau-
Thierry and the Prince of Turenne. He
was afterwards created a Knight of the Order
of St. Lazarus, and was selected by the
Pretender (James III.) to educate Prince
Charles Edward, and Prince Henry, afterwards
Cardinal of York. In 1724 he went to
Rome for this purpose, shortly after having
published his Histoire de la Vie de Finelon,
but owing to the nature of his duties and the
petty intrigues going on around him, he
retired from this post after occupying it for a
little over a year.
Ramsay was an ardent Jacobite. He
styles James the Pretender, whom he met
frequently, as "a very clever, fine, jovial,
agreeable, free-thinking man." He was also
a Freemason, a Grand Chancellor of the
Order in France, and author of a book on the
craft, which, by instituting new orders,
brought in considerable funds for, and aided
indirectly the cause of the exiled Stuarts.
This Relation Apologique du Franc-Miifonnerie
is stated by Kloss, (the bibliographer of
Freemasonry,) to be the first thorough and
circumstantial defence of the craft, and that it
was burnt at Rome by the Pope's command,
on February 1, 1739, being a work which
tended to weaken loyalty among Roman
Catholics. Shortly after returning to Paris he
received an offer to become tutor to the

Life of Fdnelon. 5
Duke of Cumberland, the second son of
George II., but this honour was refused,
as Ramsay had no liking for the reigning
monarch. In spite of this, however, he,
in 1726, obtained a safe conduct to visit
Britain. Towards the beginning of 1728,
he arrived in London, and afterwards went to
Scotland, where he resided several years
with the Duke of Argyll at Inveraray, who
possessed one of the largest private libraries
in the United Kingdom, and who, moreover,
was a man of culture and a friend to the
higher education. Here he resided several
years preparing his works for the press. In
1729 he was elected a member of the
Spalding Club. In 1730 he received the de
gree of D.C.L. at Oxford, after having been
previously admitted a member of St. Mary's
HalL There was a strong minority opposed
to him, which showed itself after the Earl of
Arran, then Chancellor of the University, had
proposed him for that honour. The malcon
tents opposed him on the ground that he was
a Roman Catholic and a Jacobite, and had
been in the service of the Pretender. Dr.
King, Principal of St. Mary's Hall, spoke in
Ramsay's defence, and closed his speech by
stating, " Quod instar omnium est, Fenelonii
magni archi-praesulis Cameracensis alumnum
prsesento vobis." His election was secured
by a majority of votes, the voting being
eighty-five in his favour to seventeen against.
Ramsay, in return for the kindness received.
by him from Dr. King, gave over the perpet
ual right of printing the Travels of Cyrus in
French, all the profits of which were to go

6 History of the
towards the benefit of St. Mary's Hall.
Ramsay was also elected a Fellow of the
Royal Society of London.
His Travels of Cyrus, previously mentioned,
first appeared in ParisSin 1727, and spite of
some severe and carping criticism, wherein
the author was stigmatised as a "deistical,
freethinking socinian, latitudinarian, despiser
of external ordinances" — it attained world
wide popularity; editions of the work being
translated and printed in London, Glasgow,
Breslau, Lisbon, Madrid, Naples, and Leyden,
the latest British edition being that of 18 16,
printed at London. The later editions are
much improved and strengthened, as the
work in many parts was re-written. Annexed
to the work is A Discourse upon the Theology
and Mythology of the -flag-aw, wherein Ramsay's
design is to show that the " most celebrated
philosophers of all ages and all countries
have had the notion of a supreme Deity, who
produced the world by His power and governs
it by His wisdom."
On his return to France, he was made
intendant to the Prince of Turenne. His
poems,1 few in number, are, in the main,
revelations of the devout mind of the
author, and reveal his deep spirituality.
Published without his knowledge, and un
corrected by him, and all written before
he attained the age of twenty-three, they
aid us in estimating his character. In his
Divine Friendship, we have this opening
stanza : —
1 Some few Poems, composed by the Chevalier Ramsay
(Edin., 1728).

Life of Fdnelon. 7
" O sovereign "beauty, boundless source of love,
From thee I 'm sprung, to thee again I move !
Like some small gleam of light, some feeble ray
That lost itself by wandering from the day,
Or some eclips'd, some faint and straggling beam
That fain would wrestle back from whence it came,
So I, poor banish'd I, oft strive to flee
Through the dark maze of nothing up to Thee !"
We have a slightly more impassioned
verse in a poem bearing the more cumbrous
title of The Toa/ring Wish, wherein Ramsay
writes : —
"My God, my God, O ! let Thy pains divine
Conquer this vain, this rebel heart of mine !
The world, the flesh, and Satan rage in me ;
O break their force, and then triumphant be !
O suffering life of Christ, ye cruel pains and death
That crown'd the tragic scene, and stopt His breath,
Come, triumph o'er my soul in every part,
Through all the hidden corners of my heart ! "
Other poems of a lighter nature are touched
with a sparkling imagination and naturalness
bearing comparison with those of his name
sake of Gentle Shepherd fame. Ramsay's
greatest and most monumental work was
published posthumously at Glasgow, in 1749.
The Philosophical Principles of Natural and
Revealed Religion created considerable stir in
Roman Catholic circles, as Ramsay there
enunciates views at variance with the doc
trines of that church ; such as his disbelief in
the eternity of future punishment, and so
much was this taken to heart, that several
French writers refused to believe that he
ever penned them, even although he takes
care to state they were the doctrines enter
tained by Fenelon himself.

8 History of the
With regard to this posthumous work, it
exercised an extraordinary influence "over
one of the greatest of the sons of men" —
Jonathan Edwards. So much interested was
Edwards in what Ramsay wrote, that he
copied into his note book several paragraphs
extracted from a review of it which appeared
in the Monthly Review in 1751. The pass
ages quoted are exceedingly interesting, as
showing how the metaphysical mind of
Edwards was struck with the deep truths and
luminously expressed opinions of this famous
Scot in France; and all the more so, as
Edwards, after studying the work itself, seems
to have resiled from several of his former
opinions, and accepted Ramsay's view on the
third person in the Trinity. This, of itself,
is a remarkable testimony to the strength of
Ramsay's reasoning on the subject in hand.1
Ramsay was not the " dry Scotchman " many
have supposed, but a man full of kindly
sympathies, perhaps somewhat supersensitive,
yet loving learning for its own sake. In
his later years he spent several hours every
day in studying Chinese, being able to read
a considerable number of manuscripts in the
original. Besides being an accomplished
French scholar, he was conversant with the
German language. Of his intimate friends
little is known, his chief confidant in Edin-
1See the articles in the Bibliothcca Sacra, vol. 38, 1881, by
Professor Edward A. Park, where fuller details are given, and
also in the exceedingly interesting and highly suggestive work,
Jonathan Edwards, written by Professor A. V. G. Allen, D.D.,
Cambridge, Mass. (Boston, 1890), where due praise is given to
Ramsay. See also Selections from the unpublislied writings
of Jonathan Edwards of America, Ed. from the original
MSS. withfacsimiles and an introd., by A. B. Grosart, LL.D.
(Edin., 1865).

Life of Fe"nelon. g
burgh being Dr. John Stevenson. He was
acquainted with Dean Swift, and on friendly
terms with J. B. Rousseau, and also with
Racine. Ramsay, after leaving Scotland and going
to France, never appears to have revisited
his home again. His father was extremely
pained at his change of faith and doctrine,
which is illustrated by the fact that when his
son sent a sum of money to him as an
earnest of his good-will from France, it was
returned with the characteristic remark : "It
cam' by the beast, and let it gang to the
beast."1 Ramsay was troubled in his later years
with paralysis of the lower extremities.
After a brief illness he died at St. Germaine
en-Laye, on the 6th May, 1743, where his
remains were interred, after his heart had
been removed. This was transferred to the
nunnery of St. Sacrament in Paris.
At his own request these words (which
gives us a glimpse of how he regarded him
self and his work) were engraven on his
tombstone : " Universitae religionis vindex
et martyr." He was survived by his wife,
who was a daughter of Sir David Nairn.
This is the first complete translation of
the Histoire de la vie de Fenelon, somewhat
enriched, it is hoped, by the fullest
biographical notice of the author which has,
hitherto, been made public.
D. C.
University Library,
Edinburgh.
l It came from the Roman Catholic Church, let it go back to it.

BIBLIOGRAPHY.
i. Discours sur le poeme epique. Prefixed
to the later French and English
editions of Telimaque: originally
published at Paris, 17 17.
2. Essai sur le gouvernement civil. Lond.,
1 7 2 1. Reprinted as Essai de politique,
in English. Lond., 1732 and 1769.
3. Histoire de la vie de Messr. Francois
de Salignac de la Motte-Fenelon,
Archeveque, Due de Cambray. La
Haye, 1723. (Includes Discours
Philisophique sur Famour de Dieu,
being an analysis of Fenelon's princi
ples, omitted in the Histoire!)
The same. Transl. by Nathanael Hook.
Lond., 1723. (This translation has
several passages omitted from the
original, and the Discours Philoso-
phique, completing the author's history,
is entirely awanting.)
4. Les Voyages de Cyrus, avec un Discours
sur la Mythologie du Payens. Paris,
1727; Lond., 1728; avec additions,
1730 and 1733; Naples, 1756; Leyden,
1783; Madrid, 1784; Breslau, 1780
and 1795 ; Lisbon, 1791.

12 History of the
English translations of the iTravels of
Cyrus. Lond., 1730, 1739, 1763,
1795, and 1816; Glasgow, 1755.
§. Some few poems, composed by the
Chevalier Ramsay, author of the
celebrated Travels of Cyrus. Edin.,
1728.
6. Plan of Education for a young Prince.
Lond. 1732.
7. Relation apologique et historique, et
historique de la Societe" des F. M.,
par J. G. D. M. F. M. Dublin, chez
Patrice Odonoko, 1738; also London,
1749.1
8. L'Histoire du Marechal de Turenne.
2 vols. Paris, 1735; La Haye, 1736.
The History of Henri de la Tour
d'Auvergne, Viscount de Turenne,
Marshal-General of France. 2 vols.
Lond., 1735. (Included in this work
are the "Memoirs of the Duke of
York, afterwards King James II. of
Great Britain " ; and also "Authorities
for the History of the Viscount de
Turenne.")
9. Two letters in French to M. Racine,
the son, upon the true sentiments of
Mr Pope in his Essay on Man.
1 Dr. Richard Gamett, of the British Museum, has kindly
furnished me with particulars of above, and states : "no doubt
Dublin is a feigned imprint, and 'Odonoko* is French for
O'Donoghue." Although published under such a peculiar
designation, Kloss says: " Alle Griinde sprechen dafur, dass
Andreas Michael Ramsay der Verfasser war." (D. C.)

Life of Fdnelon. 13
Printed in Les (Euvres de M. Racine,
le fits, torn. II., Paris 1747; and also
in torn. III., 2nd ed., 1753.
10. Le Psychometre; ou reflexions sur les
differens caracteres de l'esprit, par un
Milord Anglais. (Remarks upon Lord
Shaftesbury's Characteristics!)
n. The Philosophical Principles of Natural
and Revealed Religion, unfolded in a
geometrical order. 2 vols. Glasgow,
1 748-1 749.

PREFACE.
Monsieur de Fenelon, Archbishop,
Duke of Cambray, having honoured
me, several years previous to his
death, with a special friendship, I
have deemed it a duty, out of
respect to his memory and through
love of the public weal, to write this
History of his Life. As my design
is to make this prelate known by
his actions, his opinions and his
works, one will only find in this
history instructive facts, which will
be interesting to all lovers of truth
and virtue.
In order to render the narrative
concise, clear and rapid, I pass
lightly over less important matters,
and avoid lengthy reflections, as
well as vague eulogies and super
fluous ornamentation. I produce
several original letters, in order that
M. de Cambray might pourtray
himself, and be his own narrator.

HISTORY
OF
THE LIFE OF
M. FRANCOIS DE SALIGNAC
DE LA MOTHE-FENELON,
ARCHBISHOP, DUKE OF CAMBRAY.i

Frangois de Salignac de la
Mothe-Fdnelon, Archbishop,
Duke of Cambray, whose life I
desire to write, came of a very
ancient family, distinguished during
a long period by its alliances, and
the high stations it had held in the
church and state. All this is only
a feeble lustre for the Archbishop
of Cambray.
He was born at the Castle of
1 See Note A.

1 8 History of the
Fenelon, in Perigord, on the sixth of
August, 1 65 1, of Pons de Salignac,
Marquis de. Fenelon, and Louise de
la Cropte, sister of the Marquis de
St. Abre. He was educated at
home until the age of twelve.
This education, in a remote pro
vince, preserved him from the
corruption of morals and opinions
into which the young nobles of
nearly all nations only fell too
frequently, in acquiring the polite
ness and elegance of the court.
From his earliest years he showed
great vivacity of spirit, with par
ticular tokens of a charming temper
ament. He was sent to the University
of Cahors to pursue his studies.
Afterwards he went to Paris to
(complete his education under the
pare of Antoine, Marquis de Fene
lon, lieutenant-general of the armies
of the king. This nobleman had
(considerable genius, an exemplary
[piety, and a conspicuous bravery.
[The late Prince de Conde said of
him that he was equally apt in con
versation, in war, and in the cabinet.

Life of Fdnelon. 19
The talents of the nephew devel-'
oped themselves under such an
uncle, who received him into his
house, treating him as his own
son. The Abbd de Fenelon was
soon well known at Paris. At
the age of nineteen he preached
with general approval. The Mar
quis de Fenelon, fearing only that
his nephew was developing too
rapidly, and being apprehensive of
the obstacles of vanity in one so
youthful, persuaded him to take the
resolution of imitating the silence of
Jesus Christ during several years.
The AbW de Fenelon applied
himself more than ever, under the
guidance of M. Tronson, Superior
of St. Sulpice, to cultivate his mind
and heart by studies and virtues
becoming his condition. At the
age of twenty-four he entered into
sacred orders, and exercised all the
functions of a priest with an edifying
piety. He, himself, undertook the
most arduous duties in the parish,
and believed nothing underneath
him as a minister, where all was to
elevate man.

20 History of the
About the age of twenty-seven he
was chosen as the Superior of the
New Catholics, in St. Ann Street,
Paris, by de Harlay, Archbishop of
the city.
His labours and success in this
work speedily made known the
talents he had for persuading and
strengthening the mind. The King,
learning this, appointed him chief
of a mission to convert the Protes
tants near the sea-coast of Saint-
onge, and in the county of Aunis,
in the year 1686.
For the purpose of preventing
diversity of religions in his realms,
Louis XIV. had been advised to
employ military force. The Abbe
de Fenelon, far removed from these
methods, would only take charge of
the mission upon the condition that
no troops would be employed.
The Protestants of these cantons
being treated with gentleness, whilst
their neighbours were abandoned to
the most rigorous treatment, dis
posed them to hearken, with profit,
to the instructions of the new
missionary. Thus the truth was

Life of Fe"nelon. 2 1
perceived that not only were sudden
conversions obtained without force,
but they were also more sincere and
enduring. These missions finished, Fenelon
revisited Paris and presented him
self before the King, but it was more
than two years afterwards ere he
returned to court. He again re
sumed the duties of Superior of the
New Catholics. His talents being
much spoken of, opened the door of
the greatest offices. The inaction
to which he adhered, whilst enabling
him to obtain and insinuate himself
into the good graces of those who
were consulted concerning the dis
tribution of benefices, was made the
pretext that, after having been nom
inated to the bishopric of Poitiers,
his name was erased from the paper
before the appointment was made
public. In the meantime his reputation
was always growing. His sermons 1
and discourses to the New Catholics
revealed, more and more, that
eloquence, knowledge and grace
1 The Collection has been published since his death.

22 History of the
prevalent in all his works. He
composed, at that time, a treatise
upon the pastoral ministry, which
is one of the first productions
from his pen.1 He therein lays down
the same principles upon ecclesias
tical authority which he has always
since then upheld.
It was during this pre-eminence
that he became acquainted with
M. Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux. No
one was more capable of giving the
Abbd de Fenelon such useful advice
upon his work. This prelate was
already celebrated by his works
against the Protestants. All the
Reformers had been provoked and
rendered furious by them. We see
in them profound learning, much
curious investigation, a clear intel
lect, and a vivid eloquence. He
possessed a knowledge of facts in a
remarkable degree.
The Abb£ de Fenelon was, for a
long time, on intimate terms with
this prelate. He listened to him
with the docility and modesty due
to the age, character, and talents of
1 Sur le ministire des pasteurs.

Life of Fdnelon. 23
de Meaux, who loved him, and
communicated his knowledge to
him. The Marquis de Fenelon had
procured for his nephew the ac
quaintance of several illustrious
individuals at the court, and among
others that of the Due de
Beauvilliers. Fenelon had been
requested by this nobleman to write
a treatise upon the Education of
Girls} We there perceive the
knowledge the author already had
of the human heart, and the talents
he possessed in such a remarkable
degree for moulding the minds of
young people. De Beauvilliers,
having made known to the King
the merit of the Abb£ de Fenelon
his Majesty appointed him preceptor
to the Due de Bourgogne without
any solicitation on his part. Every
body applauded this choice, and
above all the Bishop of Meaux,
who wrote the following letter to
Madame de Fenelon, daughter of
the Marquis de Fenelon of whom
I have spoken.
1 De V Education des files.

24 History of the
Germaine, 9 August, 1689.
" Madame, Yesterday I was entirely occu
pied with the welfare of the church
and state. To-day, I have had leisure
for reflecting with more attention
upon your joy. It has given me
very great satisfaction. Your father
is so sincere and worthy a friend
that he will feel as I do myself.
I myself am represented, as it
were, on this occasion, in behold
ing the splendour of a virtue
which had concealed itself with so
much delicacy. Receive therefore
I pray you the testimonies of my
joy and the assurances of esteem
with which I am, &c."
The Abbe de Fenelon entered
on his duties with the Princes at
the age of 38 years, in the month
of September, 1689. There had
been chosen for this education
several persons of distinguished
merit. Underneath an appearance of
outward simplicity, the Due de
Beauvilliers, governor of the Princes,

Life of Fdnelon. 25
hid uncommon characteristics and
virtues. An opponent of ostentation,
he had little ambition, and was
unattracted by riches ; he was
modest, disinterested, liberal, patient,
truthful, polished, circumspect in
everything, and especially fitted to
be a ruler of men. While he was
Minister of State, the basis of his
policy was the love of justice.
This was his dominant virtue. To
it he had sacrificed his own tastes,
personal friendships, and even the
interests of his family. All these
noble qualities were heightened and
perfected by an eminent piety,
which referred everything to God.
And this piety was in him a
fruitful source of all the wisdom
pertaining to his rank ; for it had
delivered his heart from amusements
and passions, and gave to his mind
a continual strength to discover in
everything the True and the Good.
The Abb6 de Langeron, reader,
had been for a long time the intimate
friend, and had aided in the promo
tion of Fenelon. He had applied
himself to those weighty services

26 History of the
which fashion the understanding as
well as to that polite literature
which beautifies the mind. He was
naturally gay and amiable. His
heart was full of noble and tender
sentiments. No one had ever
known a better friend. The dis
grace of the Archbishop of Cambray,
which embraced his own, rendered
him insensible to his fortune ; for he
only thought of the pleasure of
following his friend into exile, and
of passing the remainder of his days
with him. Such were the friends
of the Archbishop of Cambray.
Father de Valois, a Jesuit,
appointed at the instigation of the
Abbe' de Fenelon to be the Con
fessor of the Prince, was a pious
priest, who had preserved, in the
midst of the court, all the virtues of
his rank.
The Abbe^ de Fleury, sub-tutor,
is so celebrated through his works,
that.they alone are his eulogy.1 I
will not speak of other persons, who
contributed to this education. Their
merit is sufficiently known. They
1 Note B.

Life of Fdnelon. 27
are still alive, and I have every
respect for their modesty.
Never did any one see greater
harmony in the education of any
individual than in that of the Due
de Bourgogne. All those who
surrounded him acted in agreement,
never to flatter or assist him, when
they were displeased with him. It
was the same, likewise, with his
conversation, his motives, and his
conduct. He only found their
approval in obeying and fulfilling
his tasks.
This Prince joined to great talents
grave defects. In his earlier years
he was choleric, impetuous, haughty
and changeable.1 It was this same
child whom we have since observed
as the gentlest and most compas
sionate Prince, the most easily
affected with the misfortunes of
humanity. He denied himself in
order to relieve others. H e believed
himself destined to supreme honour
only to be a man for the people, and
to render them good and happy.
The method, thus made use of, to
^ote C.

28 History of the
mould the heart and mind of this
young Prince is a model of the most
perfect education.
In order to form his mind, he was
made to study, not by rules, but
according to the curiosity which
they had succeeded in exciting in
him. They thus turned amusements
into study, and the most serious
studies became an amusement. A
conversation begun by design,
without the object being perceived
by him, afforded the opportunity for
the recital of a history, to the
examination of a map, with explan
ations suited to the comprehension
of one of his age. The exercises
were always a means of solid
information. Some history, or
dialogue, which taught him the
principal facts of antiquity, or of
modern times, made him acquainted
with the characters of the great
heroes of all ages, and inspired him
also with the taste for pure virtue.
The Dialogues of the Dead1 and
Te'le'maque had been written for this
end.2
* Dialogues des morls. - Note D.

Life of Fe"nelon. 29
To mould his character, it was
necessary to correct his natural
defects and inspire in him the
liking for virtues. The temper,
the impetuosity, the pride of the
young Prince were frequently suffi
ciently restrained by a sorrowful
look, visible upon every countenance.
Occasionally he was brought to
reason by delicate and refined
railleries. At other times they
made him sensible of his excess by
means of a fable, wherein he was
depicted. The punishments awarded in
an ordinary education were never
employed in that of his. The
deprivation of a pleasure, of a walk,
or even of a lesson, which he him
self specially desired, were the only
corrections made of use. In depriv
ing him also of his wish, and in
subduing his tastes, a docility was
given to his temperament, and a
strength of purpose sufficient ta
render him obedient to attend and
follow good counsels and advice.
At the period of his strongest
outbursts of temper, all those who-

30 History of tfie
had access to him were ordered to
preserve a mournful silence in
waiting upon him. He was thus to
be pitilessly abandoned to commune
with himself, until, grown weary in
not finding any one with whom to
converse, he would beg forgiveness,
by acknowledging his fault.
Candour to avow everything was
the sole condition of pardon, and to
accustom him to this frankness, they
confessed the faults of which they
had been guilty before him. By
this method, those who attended
to his education made their own
imperfections serviceable to the
instruction of their pupil.
They inspired him with the love
of virtue, not through sapless pre
cepts, or moral sentences, or with
studied harangues ; but by a word,
a look, by an expression suited to
the purpose, they gave lessons, at
all times, without giving a distaste
to them, neither did he perceive
their plan. At table, at play, in his
walks and conversations, everything
was turned to instruction, and thus
by imperceptible degrees, and inge-

Life of Fdnelon. 31
nious turnings, they made him
encounter everywhere noble senti
ments and kingly virtues. They
added to this knowledge and love
of the truth, the weighty science of
learning to hold one's tongue. In
order to accustom him early to keep
silence they imparted to him, after
due precaution, some matters even
of the greatest moment, a confidence
far in advance of his years. These
are not qualities I have invented
here, but facts I relate, which I
received from the Archbishop of
Cambray himself.
It was in this fashion that the
Due de Beauvilliers, the Abbe de
Fenelon, and all those who wrought
under them, concurred to fashion in
their august pupil a father of the
people. During all the period the Abbd
de Fdnelon had been at court, he
had always evinced a thorough
disinterestedness, and a great for-
getfulness of self. He had only
the church-living of a middling
priory, which the Archbishop of
Sarlat, his uncle, had resigned for

32 History of the
him. Having the disposition to be
contented with little, to proportion
his expense, to live independently
of the bonds of self-interest, this
habit of limiting his desires, joined
to the supernatural love of the
poverty of Jesus Christ, he had
remained six years at court, with
every mark of esteem, without
receiving, or asking, any favour,
either for himself, or his relatives.
The public nominated him for
all the posts which fell vacant, and
he did not obtain even the most
mediocre. At last the King bestowed upon
him the Abbey of St. Vallery, and
in so doing asked to be excused
for giving what was of so little
value, and came so tardily. Some
months afterwards the Archbishopric
of Cambray becoming vacant, his
Majesty nominated the Abbd de
Fenelon, who, scrupulous regarding
his duties, declined acceptance of it,
believing that he was not able to
fulfil the duties of a diocese with
the performance of his engagement.
The King answered him, that as the

Life of Fdnelon. 33
education of the Prince was nearly
finished he would be able to com
plete by turns the duties of tutor
and prelate, while the eminent
individuals, who had served under
him, would supply these two posts
in his absence. He acceded at last
to the commands of the King, on
the condition that he passed nine
months at Cambray, and the re
maining three with the Princes.
In accepting the Archbishopric
of Cambray, Fenelon resigned the
living in connection with the Abbey
of St. Vallery, without asking it
either for his friends or relations.
The King in particular was aston
ished, and pressed him to retain it.
But he represented to his Majesty
that as the revenues of his
Archbishopric were more than
sufficient, he believed in this
instance the canons prohibited
the plurality of benefices. He
gave up, at the same time, the
priory which he had held of his
uncle. Disinterestedness, so rare,
gained for him great praise, but
it also biassed many persons

34 History of the
against him whom his example
condemned. The high favour which made
Fenelon Archbishop of Cambray
appeared to proclaim an elevation
still more great, but it raised against
him a storm which banished him
from court, never to return.
To understand the origin, pro
gress, and the consummation of his
disgrace, it is necessary to speak of
Madame Guyon, who was made
the pretext of it, and to give here
a brief outline of her conduct and
opinions. This is requisite, not only to
clear her against the calumnies of
her enemies, but to destroy the
false ideas which certain individuals
have formed of her in reading a
" History of her life," printed not
long ago in a foreign country,
without her sanction and against
' her strongest wishes.
Madame Guyon was born at
Montargis, of noble parents. At
the age of fifteen years she married
a gentleman of the same place.
She resided there until her widow-

Life of Fdnelon. 35
hood, and always retained the re
putation of one thoroughly virtuous,
and without a stain.
In her younger years she conse
crated herself to God, in a particular
way, through that species of piety
which is becoming to all ranks, and
is so much recommended by St.
Francis de Sales.
At the age of twenty-eight years
she was left a widow. The
reputation of her piety and of her
genius reaching as far as M.
d'Aranton, Bishop of Geneva, who
was then at Paris, this prelate
asked her to retire to his diocese
with the New Catholics who had
established a community at Gez, for
the conversion of the daughters of
Protestants. She consulted, first of all, those
individuals most known by their
piety ; and all having confirmed her
in her resolution, she left Paris in the
year 1681, in the company of some
of the New Catholics, and of two
chamber-maids. She arrived safely
at Gez. The Bishop of Geneva
saw her there on her arrival, and

2)6 History of the
took with him Father de la Combe,
of the Barnabite monastery, who
was Superior of the house.1 This
was a monk, who united to a
superior knowledge of the human
sciences a profound understanding
in the learning of the saints.
Shortly afterwards the relations
of Madame Guyon wrote to induce
her to cease taking part in the
benefits of the income bequeathed to
her children, who possessed a yearly
revenue of nearly three thousand
pounds sterling, and to give them
all her wealth. She did this with
pleasure, and only reserved for
herself a moderate pension.
This inspired the Bishop of
Geneva with the idea of inducing
this lady to bestow some of the
wealth, remaining to her, upon the
New Catholics, and to appoint her
Abbess of the house. But, as she
perceived that the rules and statutes
of that community were not con
venient for her, she begged that
prelate to excuse her. This refusal
offended the New Catholics, and
JNote E.

Life of Fdnelon. 37
shortly afterwards she asked permis
sion to depart from their house.
Determined to return to Paris no
more, and to sever herself from
earthly objects, to dwell in some
solitary place unknown and apart
from the world, she first lived among
the Ursulines of Tonnon, afterwards
with one of her friends in Grenoble,
and finally went to Verceil, where
the Bishop of that place had invited
her several times. She purposed
spending there her last days, but the
close atmosphere of the place having
given her a severe attack of inflam
mation of the lungs, the medical men
declared that she would undoubtedly
succumb if she did not return to
her native air. She left Verceil, to
the great regret of the Bishop, and
returned to Paris in the year 1687,
after an absence of six years.
During her solitude and sojourn
in these remote provinces, she
expressed, in her earlier writings,
the great struggles of her love for
God in a simple yet lively and
artless style, and full of sentiment.
Her manuscripts passed impercepti-

38 History of the
bly from hand to hand, while copies
were made and scattered abroad
unknown to her. One of her friends
thought fit to print one at Grenoble,1
and another at Lyons,2 with her
entire approval. Some relished
these writings ; others were offended
with them.3
As soon as she had arrived at
Paris some persons wrote from the
provinces against her doctrines.
They added to the slanders. They
substituted false letters. And she
was locked up with the Daughters
of the Visitation in St. Antoine
Street, in the month of January,
1688. Father de la Combe, her
confessor, was involved in the same
disgrace. It became an immediate necessity
to show the imposture of her ene
mies, and to confound them by the
strength of her replies. After a
rigorous examination, made by order
of de Harley,* Archbishop of Paris,
during the space of eight months ;
1 Moyen court pour faire oraison.
2 Explication du Cantique des Cantiques.
8 Note F. 4NoteG.

Life of Ftlnelon. 39
after the most malign accusations,
together with the most captious
questions, and the clearest elucida
tions of all her actions, her innocence
appeared in all its splendour. Her
sincerity, gentleness and submission
undeceived the Abbess of the
house, and the inmates rendered a
unanimous and authentic testimony
to Madame de Miramion. Thus
her innocence was made known to
Madame de Maintenon, who spoke
strongly to the King in her favour,
obtained her freedom, and bestowed
on her, during several years, many
tokens of friendship and esteem.
Some time after her departure
from the Daughters of St. Mary,
she became acquainted with the
Abb6 de Fdnelon.1 She was staying
with the Duchess de Bethune, whom
she had known from her earliest
years. He had been frequently
warned against her before he had
spoken with her. But the conver
sation between them at Madame
de Bethune's dispelled his prejudices.
When he afterwards had occasion
1 Note H.

40 History of the
to go to Montargis, he enquired
concerning the reputation she had
in that city before she left. They
all testified to the high estimation of
the piety of that lady, and of the
purity of her life since her childhood.
These attestations, given by the
most conscientious individuals, con
firmed Fenelon in the opinion which
he had already conceived of the
virtue of Madame Guyon, and little
by little there was formed between
these two persons an intimate friend
ship which was afterwards, for the
one and the other, a source of much
trouble, and through that of great
virtues.1 Several years after having known
Fdnelon, Madame Guyon made the
acquaintance of the Due de Chev-
reuse. This nobleman had been
educated by the gentlemen of
Port Royal. His masters were
so equipped that they neglected
nothing for the cultivation of his
1 See fustif cations de la Doctrine de Madame de la
Molhe-Guyon.. Acrites par elle-meme. Avec un examen
de la neuvieme el dixiime Confircnces de Cassien sur
PStat fixe de foraison continuelle ; par M. de Finelon,
Archez'Sque de Cambrai. 3 torn. Paris if go. (D. C.)

Life of Fdnelon. 41
natural talents. He had a rare
fund of knowledge for a person of
his rank, an easy eloquence, and
considerable genius, capable of tak
ing up all kinds of ideas, and of
forming the greatest projects. He
was daring in execution, courageous
in the face of misfortunes, and the
disapprobation of those who could
not comprehend the grandeur of
his designs. If his mind had some
defects, they never obscured the
abundance of his projects. His
address was easy, gracious and
modest ; his politeness was noble,
delicate and natural ; in temper
ament he was complaisant, affable,
and gentle. He lived in his house
with his children, like a good friend,
as much as a good father. Not
withstanding his natural vivacity,
his mind always remained uniform
and tranquil. In a word, religion
had united in him human and
divine graces in an equal measure,
which together made him a good
Christian, a model citizen, and a
perfect friend.
The Due de Beauvilliers, the

42 History of the
Due de CheVreuse, and the Abbe
de Fenelon, lived in firm friendship
with one another, and every one
knew the tender regard they enter
tained for Madame Guyon. Several
young ladies of a high rank at
court were also on intimate terms
with her, and Madame de Maintenon
asked her frequently to St. Cyr,
and gave her many tokens of
confidence. Some persons, interested in de
stroying these friendships, spread
abroad rumours concerning a rising
heresy, which was accredited at
court. Here is what gave rise to
their calumnies.
Rome had made a great noise,
several years previously, against the
writings of Molinos, a Spanish
doctor.1 His bold expressions had
given birth to a false spirituality,
which mixed the impure love of
creatures with a pretended pure
love of the Creator. They asserted
that this illusion had spread as far
as France. Others pretended that
all the rumours spread by the
"Note I.

Life of Fdnelon. 43
French Quietists were only strata
gems of certain political men, who
presented, now and then, these
illusions to the Princes in order to
render it necessary to combat them.
Be it as it may, these rumours were
made the occasion of confounding
the false with the true, and of
decrying that interior and concealed
devotion which only discovers itself
by lasting, genuine, and lovely
virtues. The new disciples of St. Augustine
attended more readily to these
calumnies. They, at first, flattered
themselves with the idea that a
man of understanding, like Fdnelon,
could not possibly fail to be on
their side. They were amazingly
thunderstruck when they learnt the
contrary ; above all, when they
perceived that the friendship of the
Abbe de Fenelon with the Due
de Chevreuse estranged that noble
man by degrees from the opinion of
the gentlemen of Port Royal.
They only attended the more to
the clamours concerning the dangers
of where the church was drifting

44 History of the
through Molinism, which subtilely
wound itself among persons of the
highest rank, and of the greatest
merit. They alarmed, above all,
Godet de Marais, Bishop of Chartres,
a prelate of sincere piety, yet of a
natural vigour, and possessed with
an ardent zeal for what he believed
to be sound doctrine.
Such a man was susceptible of
all kinds of prejudices. They drew
before him a frightful picture of the
new spiritualism. In order to turn
aside this prelate from his unwearied
pursuits against the Jansenists, a
doctor of the Sorbonne, an adherent
of the Invincible Grace, adroitly
represented Quietism to him, as an
object worthy of his Episcopal
zeal. This pious prelate was then
a stranger to the opinions and
character of this doctor, neither was
he aware of the trap set for him.
He applied himself, in good faith,
to destroy the new-born heresy,
and only studied to render Madame
Guyon suspected.
This lady, to reassure her friends,
then resolved to confide her writ-

Life of Fdnelon. 45
ings to some prelate, distinguished
for his attainments, who would
examine them, and testify to the
truth. She chose the Bishop of
Meaux, as a man whose approbation
would counterbalance the influence
of de Chartres, and effectually
destroy the calumnies of these
excited doctors.
All the manuscripts of this lady
were given to that prelate. Having
read them, he stated to the Due
de CheVreuse, that he had found
there a light, and an unction which
he had never found elsewhere. He
afterwards carried them to Meaux,
where he made extensive extracts ; 1
and nearly five months later, about
the beginning of the year 1694, he
returned to Paris, where he had a
long interview with Madame Guyon,
and after having given her the
communion with his own hands,
expressed to her his difficulties, and
received her answers.
At this conference, while there
had been some heated speaking
1 Response a, la Relation du Quietisme, par M. dg
Cambrai.

46 History of the
and strong expressions, he, how
ever, declared to the Due de
CheVreuse that the things upon
which he insisted did not concern
the faith, as certain opinions about
spirituality were not sufficiently
understood by him, yet he was
quite agreeable to give Madame
Guyon a testimonial regarding her
Catholicism. She besought the
Due de CheVreuse to mention to
that prelate that she had no other
desire in writing save for knowledge
itself, and in order to reassure her
friends, while she was perfectly con
tented with the verbal testimony
which he had the goodness to
communicate to her.
Soon afterwards, retiring to a
remote village, she ceased all cor
respondence with her friends. This
precaution did not quieten restless
minds. In order to render her
opinions suspected they began to
decry her morals. The Dues de
Beauvilliers and de Chevreuse, in
concert with Fdnelon, drew up a
memoir in their joint names for her
justification. Madame de Main-

Life of Fdnelon. 47
tenon charged herself with the pre
sentation and support of it before
the King. But Madame Guyon
never gave her consent to this step,
being afraid of compromising her
three friends.
Some time afterwards Madame
de Maintenon changed her mind,
and, by degrees, allowed herself to
be enticed by the wiles of the
Bishop of Chartres, her confessor.
This lady had a sincere regard for
religion. Her conversation was
bewitching, and full of pleasing
touches. The strength of her
intellect did not appear to match
this refinement. She was easily
prejudiced against individuals, and
just as readily prepossessed in their
favour. It was easy to alarm a lady
of this character.1
They made her see the gross
est errors and all the horrors
of Quietism in the little book of the
Short Method? which she had at first
strongly relished. Some people
perceived that she was siding
against Madame Guyon. They
1 Note J. - Moyen court pour faire oraison.

48 History of the
endeavoured to inspire her with
suspicions against Fenelon. She
was touchy about this. She had,
at first, thought to make herself
absolute mistress of his mind, but
seeing how frequently he resisted
her opinions, she apprehended that
a man whom she was not able to
convince would not do her much
credit before the King.
This change in Madame de
Maintenon gave occasion to the
Bishop of Meaux of showing the
secret displeasure he had cherished
during a long period against Fene
lon. M. Bossuet, accustomed to
have himself admired as the first
genius of his age, was not able to
tolerate any one who had turned
their eyes upon him to direct their
gaze towards Fenelon.1
Such was the original source of
their discords. But this prelate,
so otherwise respectable, did not
dream, doubtless, of pushing things
to the extreme, whither the heat of
the disputes has since carried them.
Some people warned Fdnelon of
"Note K.

Life of Fdnelon. 49
his danger on account of the com
plaints and actions of de Meaux
against him, but he never desired
to believe what was said.
The outrageous language against
Madame Guyon became universal.
These calumnies appeared to recoil
upon her friends. It was the know
ledge of this which made her take the
resolution of breaking the silence,
and of justifying herself before an
unprejudiced public. She wrote
to Madame de Maintenon asking
to be provided with the necessary
commissioners, one half belonging
to the laity, and the other half to
the ecclesiastical, for the express
purpose of condemning or absolving
her from all the things imputed
against her. She offered to give
herself up voluntarily as a prisoner
within eight days, to undergo, in
any prison which was mentioned,
the punishment which would be
hers if she was found culpable.
The Due de Beauvilliers took
charge of this letter for Madame de
Maintenon, but she did not deem it
to the purpose to enter upon a

50 History of the
proposal which was so natural.
She answered de Beauvilliers that
she did not believe the false re
ports circulated regarding Madame
Guyon ; that it was not a question
concerning her character, but of her
opinions, which fastened a belief
that in justifying her person, it
would not give much strength to
her doctrine, while it became neces
sary first to examine the one, and
that the calumnies concerning the
other would recoil of themselves.
Madame de Maintenon according
ly demanded an examination of the
dogmatical books of Madame Guyon,
and spoke to the King. The
Bishop of Meaux was chosen prin
cipal examiner. There were added
the Bishop of Chalons (at present
Cardinal de Noailles) and M. Tron
son, Superior of St. Sulpice, both of
whom undertook this examination
in a spirit of honesty and good
nature. Madame de Maintenon
desired that Fdnelon should be
asked to make the fourth, of which
the King approved.
Fenelon, upheld by the purity of

Life of Fine Ion. 51
his intentions, and by the high
opinion he entertained of the good
faith of the examiners, entered upon
his duty with thorough simplicity
of heart, without binding himself,
fearing nought and without distrust.
The Bishop of Meaux mentioned
to him that as he had not read any
of the Contemplative authors he
must ask him to make some extracts,
with remarks. Fdnelon complied,
and forwarded a collection of pass
ages drawn from the Greek and
Latin fathers, canonised saints and
doctors approved of by the Church.
The design of this collection was
to show that the Contemplatives of
all ages were not more limited than
those of Madame Guyon, that it
was unnecessary to judge either of
the one or the other by rigid rules ;
but however much they pulled it
down, enough remained to prove by
a constant tradition that while it was
necessary to love God as the
Beautifier, yet still more as the
infinitely Perfect One, we must also
love Him for Himself, all things
for His sake, and our being as

52 History of the
His image. We should have the
desire for the good as appertain
ing to God, ennobling, after this
manner, Hope through Charity, and
to long for our eternal happiness as
a condition that will exalt, purify,
and consummate our love.
The Bishop of Meaux had always
held a contrary opinion on disinter
ested love. He believed that he
understood the dogma better than
any person, and could never endure,
when one tried to make him perceive
differently, that the tradition of the
Church upon a point so essential
had escaped him. Fenelon always
insisted, and this insistence became
insupportable to the Bishop, coming
from a man whom he looked upon
as his disciple.
After an examination lasting
several months, they had consider
able difficulty in coming to some
definite conclusion. One would
have thought, in the beginning,
that it concerned Madame Guyon
alone, and the destruction of her
pretended spirituality. But the
Bishop of Meaux did not wish the

Life of Fdnelon. 53
question to remain there. He
always said the Church was in
danger. It would add a new splen
dour to the glory of his triumphs
against the Protestants if he could
convict such a man as Fdnelon of
error. He desired, then, to make
the decrees such as to give assur
ance to the tenets of Catholicism.
For this purpose he held some
conferences at Issy, about the
beginning of the year 1695, with de
Chalons, Tronson and Fdnelon, who
had come to be nominated Arch
bishop of Cambray. He there
showed to them thirty Articles
which he had drawn up and pre
pared, that they should each append
their signatures to, as a barrier
against the new movement.
Fdnelon, having perused them,
changed several and added other
four. These the Bishop of Meaux
at first rejected, but, after consider
able disputation, fihally agreed to
them, and the Articles were signed
by all the four examiners.
The Bishop of Meaux whispered
it about that he had made Fenelon

54 History of the
make a retraction of his opinions,
under the specious pretext of a
signature; while Fenelon flattered
himself to have made it necessary
for the Bishop to admit his doctrine
of pure love, by the approbation
which that prelate had given to the
four additional Articles.
Shortly after the signing of these
Articles, Fenelon was consecrated
Archbishop of Cambray, at St. Cyr,
in the year 1695, and the Bishop of
Meaux absolutely desired to be his
consecrator. Hitherto these two
prelates appeared to be gifted with
great comprehension.
In the course of that same year,
de Chal6ns, de Chartres, and de
Meaux published some pastoral
letters against the Quietists, and
condemned the works of Madame
Guyon. The first named conducted
himself with much more moderation
than the other two. "In blaming,"
said that prelate, " the excess of the
false mystics, we shall always com
mend and admire the exuberance of
the saints, where the love of God
opens the heart. They are never

Life of Fdnelon. 55
able to go too far in this direction,
since the measure of the love of
God is the love without measure.
No one need be afraid that in con
tinuing to follow the transports of
pure Love they will ever be led
from the right way."
So in proscribing the works of
Madame Guyon he was very far
from condemning her person. He
had seen her at the Hotel de
Morhestein some months previously,
and had said to her that in submit
ting her declarations she was able
to continue in her opinions, while
he prayed God to augment her
graces. In the meantime, this lady had
retired to the nunnery of St. Mary
of Meaux to await the final decision
of the prelates. Bossuet found her
there in his diocese. He com
manded her to sign his mandate,
and to retract the errors, of which
he had therein made mention, in
acknowledging that she did not
believe in the Incarnate Word, and
that she had practised a species of
devotion which put her into an

56 History of the
entire forgetfulness of the Christian
mysteries. Dismayed at such a proposition,
she made answer that, as concerning
her expressions, she would submit
them to the judgment of the Church ;
that she made little of the facts of her
works, which she had only written
incidentally, or as a study without
a design of dogmatising ; that she
might be mistaken in the choice of
terms, but that she could not, with
out proving false to her conscience,
avow that she had ever held such
monstrous errors.
The inmates and the Abbess
of the convent, whither she had
retired, were much distressed at the
harshness of their Bishop, and sought
to soften him by the testimony
they rendered to the piety of
Madame Guyon. He yielded to
the force of the truth, and in the
course of six months granted a
certificate to that lady, in which he
declared : "That he was satisfied with
her conduct ; that he would continue
to her the participation of the holy
sacraments ; that he had not found

Life of Fdnelon. 5 7
her implicated in any way in the
abominations of Molinos, or of other
writers who had been condemned ;
and finally, that he had not intended
to include her in those abominations
he had mentioned in his ordinance."
The Abbess and the inmates
gave her another testimonial, wherein
they declared : " That this lady had
resided six months in their house ;
she had never given them any
trouble, but, on the contrary, gave
great edification, and that they had
remarked in all her conduct and
conversation a steady consistency,
honour, truthfulness, humility, mor
tification, sweetness and Christian
patience, together with a true piety
and esteem for all matters concern
ing the faith, especially upon the
mystery of the Incarnation, and the
saintly childhood of our Lord Jesus
Christ." Two documents so authentic,
after an examination so thorough
and with so much anxiety to render
her culpable, were infinitely dis
pleasing to Madame de Maintenon.
She told de Meaux that his attesta-

58 History of the
tion would have the contrary effect
to what she had intended, which was
to undeceive all persons prepos
sessed in favour of Madame Guyon.
Nevertheless, that lady had her
arrested and imprisoned in the
Castle of Vincennes, towards the
end of the year 1695.
The aversion of Madame de
Maintenon for the Archbishop of
Cambray increased day by day.
She regarded as inexcusable stub
bornness his resistance to Madame
Guyon's condemnation. In order
to fall into line with the opinion of
Madame de Maintenon, de Meaux
adroitly resolved to engage the
Archbishop of Cambray to make
this condemnation. He informed
him that he was undertaking a work
to establish the true spirituality and
to put down delusion, and he prayed
him to assist and give his consent.
The Archbishop rejoiced in so
useful a design, and offered to work
in agreement with him.
At the time when M. Bossuet
composed that work he wrote the
following letter to Fenelon.

Life of Fdnelon. 59
Meux, 15th May, 1896.
" I am united to you on the main
point with an affection and esteem
which God knows. I believe, how
ever, I feel a something I cannot
describe, which tells me that we are
somewhat divided, and this to me is
insupportable. My book will help
us to enter into the thoughts of each
other. I wait with hope, when I
will be united to you through the
intellect, as much as I am by the
heart." This letter confirmed Fenelon in
the good opinion he had formed of
the integrity of de Meaux, and
nothing could make him doubt the
friendship of that prelate until he
had sent to him his Instruction upon
the states of prayer}
Imagine the surprise of Fenelon
when he perceived the passages
extracted from the books of Madame
Guyon, to which the Bishop had
attached a frightful meaning ! That
prelate asserted " that it was not an
affair of remote results, but of a
system coherent in all its parts,
1 Instruction sur les Etats d'Oraison.

60 History of the
wherein the evident design was to
establish a brutal indifference for
heaven and hell, for vice and for
virtue ; a forgetfulness of Jesus
Christ and all His mysteries — a
brutish inaction and an impious
quietude." It is necessary to give here a
short summary of this system of
Madame Guyon's, such as is found
at greater length in all her works.
I will make as much use as I can of
her own words, as I will only be
uniting them together.
Love is the beginning and the
end, the rule, and consummation of
all the laws, duties and virtues, and
the two ways of arriving at this
perfect Love are prayer and evan
gelical self-denial.
Prayer is not a sweet sensation,
neither the charm of a heated
imagination, nor an abstract spec
ulation, but a central inclination of
the soul towards its principle, of
which the most simple are capable,
which nothing ought to interrupt,
and is compatible with all the
obligations of our mortal state.

Life of Fdnelon. 61
It is necessary, at first, to make
vigorous efforts, to multiply actions,
to retire frequently near God, in
order to separate all the objects of
our passions, to banish from us all
occurrences which excite us, so that
we may receive, concentrate and
enclose ourselves in our spiritual
nature, and thus form, little by little,
the habitude of living in the Divine
presence in a manner more 'simple,
uniform and more intimate.
Whilst the mind thus rises up
toward the Sovereign truth, the
heart disengages itself not only
from all the grosser affections, but
from all the most refined passions.
Behold the source of wisdom, of
the two operations which are so
different. God in the beginning detaches
our hearts from impure pleasures by
the taste of a heavenly delectation.
Animated by the tender sentiments
of a new-born love, we exercise
ourselves with a noble and mascu
line vigour in all the labours of an
active virtue. The soul satiated
with the Divine amiableness be-

62 History of the
comes impervious to the seducing
charms of a profane sensuality.
Afterwards, God commences in
us another operation in order to
destroy the false love of ourselves,
not by pleasures but by pains.
After we have separated ourselves
from earthly objects, He shuts us
up in the solitude of our being,
there to realise the darkness, the
inability, and the void. We dis
cover there all the horrors of the
ego, the impurity of its virtues, and
usurpations upon the rights of the
divinity. What a source of sorrows
for a creature, idolater of faith and
ordinary virtue ! The soul will find
nothing in it worthy of its love, and
being no more able to support the
ennui of one's own company, will
come out of itself to fall into the
Love of the only Lovely.
Then the troublesome commotion
of the senses and the imagination,
the tumult of thoughts and of
passions cease ; and the whole mind,
subdued into a profound silence,
adores in spirit and in truth He
who surpasses all speech and all

Life of Fdnelon. 63
conception. But this silence only
excludes reflections, superfluous
reasonings, and barren speculations
which interrupt the action of the
heart. In loving God purely we
believe everything He teaches, we
obey everything He commands, we
expect all He promises ; for that
overmastering Love produces, ani
mates, and perfects in us all the
human and divine virtues.
Such is the system of Madame
Guyon that Fdnelon would never
condemn. I have only stripped
these hardy and hyperbolic types of
those vivid and animated expres
sions, those fervent and tender
turns which are usual to her, with
several canonised Contemplative
writers, and which are the true
beauties of the language of Love.
Graceful, negligent nature is never
anxious about the methodical ar
rangement of phrases, but only
paints the grand passions by a
lovely disorder, where all is senti
ment without art. At the same
time, the noble and free endeavours
of divine Love are not deter-

64 History of the
mined by the dogmatic rigour of
terms. It is in this sense alone that the
Archbishop of Cambray justified the
exaggerations of the Saints, their
impossible suppositions, and their
pretended extravagances. It is ac
cording to these principles, of which
we have already spoken, that the
books of Madame Guyon are liable
to be censured in the literal and
natural sense, and that her expres
sions are scarcely exact, but exagger
ated, and by no means defined with
mathematical precision. But he
knew too thoroughly the innocence
of that lady, the integrity of her
heart, and the purity of her inten
tions, to impute to her an evident
design to establish a system which
he regarded with horror.
Thus he refused, with immovable
firmness, to bestow his approval
upon the book of de Meaux, and
resolved rather to suffer exile and
disgrace than be an accessory at
any moment to a deed which moved
his heart with indignation, and was
opposed to his whole character.

Life of Fdnelon. 65
De Chalons, becoming Archbishop
of Paris, de Chartres and M. Tron
son acknowledged that they would
be unable to change his mind, and
the former was entrusted to make
this conviction known to, Madame
de Maintenon.
De Meaux became furiously
angry at this refusal. He renewed
all his clamours, and caused it to be
made known that it would break all
unity in the Episcopacy if Fenelon
would not give his approval to his
work. It was this which obliged
the Archbishop of Cambray to
issue a book to the public, to make
his doctrine known.
He had made an exposition of
the 34 Articles of Issy, which the
Archbishop of Paris and M. Tron
son had seen and approved. It
served as the pattern to his work,
of which it was the primitive form.
He exposed, at first, the opinions
of the saints in a general proposition,
and afterwards united to each Article
the authorities of fathers, saints
and doctors who favoured these
principles. He gave this work to
5

66 History of the
the Archbishop of Paris, who find
ing it rather long and overladen
with extracts, Fenelon pruned it
down, but pruned it overly much in
the reducing of it to a pile of six
propositions, and casting off all the
testimonies of tradition. This
naked and fleshless skeleton did
not fail in scaring the doctors.
The work having been reduced
to the form and shape in which it
afterwards appeared, under the title
of Maxims of the Saints} was read
by the Archbishop of Paris and
M. Beaufort, one of his theologians.
After retaining it for three weeks,
the Archbishop returned it, pointing
out to Fdnelon all the passages
which in his opinion needed revisal.
Fenelon retouched them in his
presence. The Archbishop believed
that his confrere would not be so
docile, and thought he would have
refused to comply with the proposal,
whether he approved or not, and
would have said that the work as it
stood was correct and useful. He
then requested that he should en-
1 Maximes des saints sur la vie intiriatre.

Life of Fdnelon. 6j
trust it again to some qualified
theologian, and with Fenelon's con
sent it was submitted to M. Pirot,
doctor of the Sorbonne, who was
very intimate with de Meaux. This
doctor read the work, along with
Fdnelon, . and after a rigorous
examination declared that it was all
gold. The Archbishop of Paris desired
that the book should not appear
until after that of de Meaux's. To
this proposal Fenelon consented.
He gave his manuscript to the
printer, and in setting out for his
diocese requested his friends not to
issue it until the consent of the
Archbishop of Paris was obtained.
De Meaux learning that the
book was in the press, threatened
to arrest the impression. The
friends of Fenelon, foreseeing how
fatal it would be for his reputation
if his book was suppressed, hurried
the publication of it all the quicker,
notwithstanding the letters expressly
written by that prelate to prevent
such a step. The Due de Chev-
reuse then waited upon the Arch-

68 History of the
bishop of Paris, entreating him to
consent to the publication of the
book. That prelate replied that he
opposed it because such a proceed
ing would not only be to the honour
of the Archbishop of Cambray, but
would also be against his advice
if they thought fit to issue his work
before de Meaux's. The Due de
CheVreuse did not think it prudent
to follow this counsel. The edition
was printed and the copies distri
buted in the absence and without
the sanction of the Archbishop of
Cambray. A commotion immediately arose
in all minds. The work alarmed
pious and sincere souls. It exer
cised the derision of profane men.
The prelates, who had most influence
at court, declaimed against Fdnelon.
The courtiers, who were thor
oughly envious of the high favour
of the Dues de Beauvilliers and de
Chevreuse, expected that the two
noblemen would be involved in the
disgrace of the Archbishop of Cam
bray. At this period every class
tried to exaggerate the contents of

Life of Fdnelon. 69
the work.1 Science, ignorance, piety,
policy, insinuation, dispute, incredu
lity, even unbelief itself; and all
this on account of a prelate who
had frequently averred that it was
necessary to love God for Himself.
These rumours reaching the ears of
the King, de Meaux sought an
interview, besought pardon of him
for not sooner revealing " the fana
ticism of his colleague." 2
The Archbishop of Cambray
returned from his diocese, and be-
comingacquaintedwith the universal
outcry, believed he was bound to
assure the Archbishop of Paris, who
found himself under a species of
obligation of sustaining the doctrines
in the Book of Maxims. He, there
fore, proposed to him to return
again to the examination with M.
Tronson and M. Pirot. The King,
as well as Madame de Maintenon,
approved of this step.
This investigation, however, was
not made. The Bishop of Meaux
1 Note L.
2 See the answer to the Relation concerning
Quietism by Fenelon.

70 History of the
had drawn the most frightful conse
quences from the principles of
the Archbishop, and he haughtily
answered that the private opinions
of the latter were even worse than
those of his book.
Such language from the lips of a
Bishpp, distinguished by his ability
and age, whom people already
regarded as a father of the Church,
gave alarm to all, and raised up
innumerable doctors, priests, and
pious people, with whom the ten
dencies of the Archbishop of
Cambray, concerning the disputes
on Grace, were sadly deplored.
The scandal became universal.
The piety of the Archbishop of
Paris became alarmed. He began
to think that, after all, he had not
sufficiently examined the book, and
thereupon wrote the following letter
to the Archbishop of Cambray.
"Friday, 29th March, 1697.
" I am not advising you to deliver
yqurself up absolutely to de Meaux,
but only to deal with his observa
tions. I will, as far as I can, act

Life of Fdnelon. yi
the part of a mediator; but it is
necessary that you assist me in
this, and do more than at any other
time ; because, at present, you have
not to deal with de Meaux only,
but with the public, to inconceiv
able crowds of doctors, priests and
pious people of all kinds, and of
every rank. I suspend my judg
ment as far as I can, but I cannot
promise to do so entirely ; not on
account of the scandalous language,
but because I have found things
altered, or added in your book,
which I had not observed in the
manuscript you communicated to
me, such as le trouble involuntaire' ;x
and again, because the reflections I
have made since the publication of
your book (which I am certainly
desirous of re-examining) have
made me find some very difficult
passages. But nothing will hinder
me from earnestly seeking means
of justifying your doctrine. God is
my witness of the sorrow I have in

JIt was the only word added in the MSS. , but without
the author's sanction, as he has shown in his will, at
the end of this work.

72 History of the
seeming to suspect it, and of the
desire I have of being able to
destroy that impression."
It appeared that this prelate had
never doubted the uprightness of
Fdnelon's intentions, but only the
exactitude of his terms.
On the other hand, the Bishop of
Chartres sent word to Fenelon that
he was satisfied with the explana
tions, but he did not remain long in
this opinion. The Bishop of Meaux
proclaimed everywhere that the
explanations were not sufficient,
and that a formal retraction of the
errors must be made. He enticed
the Bishop of Chartres by degrees,
who finally counselled Fenelon to
abandon his book, and to dream no
more of explaining it. Here is
what he wrote to him :
"If you uphold your book by
explanations, some will hold it good,
useful, and sound in its doctrine.
It will be reprinted ; and those
who condemn it will be accused of
little understanding, or of some
evil design — thus runs the common
talk."

Life of Fdnelon. 73
The Archbishop of Cambray
could not avow, against his con
science, that he had ever entertained
the errors attributed to him by de
Meaux, and he refused, with right
eous indignation, to say a single
word which might lead, even
indirectly, in the direction of a
recantation. He always offered a
few additional remarks to explain
all that appeared so alarming, with
some new corrections to clear away
all equivocations. But the Bishop
of Meaux ever insisted on a formal
retraction. The Archbishop of
Cambray, observing this, broke off
all communications, and, addressing
himself to the King, represented
the cruel situation in which he was
placed, the expedients he had tried
for peace, the refusals made him for
the examination of his book, and,
finally, that there remained no other
way of terminating the scandal,
than by addressing himself to the
Pope. He asked his Majesty's
approval of his journey to Rome.
To this request the King replied
that he was quite able to carry his

74 History of the
concerns there without proceeding
thither himself.
This respectful firmness was thus
a crime in the mind of a sovereign,
because he refused to abandon his
book until the supreme Pontiff had
given his decision. They considered
this conduct as the stubbornness of
a man incapable of submission. It
was through these impressions that
the King was induced to make him
an exile in his diocese, to deprive
his relations of their employment,
and to banish his friends from
the court. No one could take an
interest in Fenelon without partici
pating in his disgraces. They
forgot the superiority of his genius,
and the purity of his life. They
wished to put off his intimate
friend on account of a visionary
woman, and himself as the patriarch
of a profane and senseless sect.
What a humiliation ! But it is only
by such reverses that all men are
perfected in the divine virtues, of
•whom Jesus, laden with ignominy, is
the model.
The Due de Bourgogne, learning

Life of Fdnelon. 75
of Fenelon's disgrace, evinced great
grief for him. The Abbots de
Beaumont and Langeron were
shortly afterwards discharged, as
well as Dupin and de 1'Echelle,
gentlemen of the Sleeve.1 The
Due de Beauvilliers would have
been treated after the same fashion
if Cardinal de Noailles had not had
more moderation than de Meaux.
The King having ordered the
Archbishop of Cambray to retire to
his diocese, and not to return
without his sanction, he quitted
the court the following day.
Before going to Cambray he
wrote a letter to the Due de
Beauvilliers, wherein is found a
veritable distrust of himself, and
where he promises a complete sub
mission to the decision of the Church.
Subjoined is a copy of that letter :
"Paris, 3rd August, 1697.
" Sir, " Do not be anxious concerning
me, and the matter of my book
going to Rome. If I am in error,
"Note M.

76 History of the
the authority of the tribunal will
undeceive me, and it is that to
which I look with a submissive and
docile heart. If I have explained
myself badly it will reform my
expressions. If the subject appears
to merit a more extended explana
tion, I shall make the additions,
with gladness. If my book does
not represent a pure doctrine, I
shall have the consolation of know
ing precisely what one has to
believe, and what to reject. For
my own part, I will not abandon my
intention of making every addition
which will, without tampering with
the truth, clear up and elucidate the
writings most easily from all alarm.
But after all, if the Pope condemns
my book, I will be, if it is pleasing
to God, the first to condemn it, and
to draw up a mandamus to prohibit
its perusal in the diocese of Cam
bray. With these intentions that
God has given me, I am in peace,
and I have only to attend to the
decision of my superior, in whom I
recognise the authority of Jesus
Christ. It is only necessary to

Life of Fineloti. 77
defend disinterested love with a
sincere heart. It is not a point of
honour here, or of the opinion of
the world, nor of the professed
humiliation that one's nature feels
at the success of evil. I act in this
with integrity. I dread as much to
be presumptuous, stubborn, and un
yielding, as to be feeble, political
and timid in the defence of truth.
If the Pope condemn me I will be
undeceived, and through that the
conquered shall have all the fruit of
the victory. If, on the contrary,
the Pope does not condemn my
doctrine, I will endeavour, by my
silence and respect, to appease
those among my brethren whose
zeal is fomenting itself against me
in imputing a doctrine to me of
which I have no less a horror of
than themselves, and which I have
always detested. Perhaps they will
render me justice when they see my
good faith. I only mention two
things which compose my entire
doctrine. The first is, that charity
is a love of God for Himself,
independently of the motive of the

78 History of the
beatitude which one finds in Him.
The second is, that in the, life of the
most perfect souls it is charity
which goes before all the other
virtues, animating and governing
all their actions. So that the right
exercise of this condition is, ordin
arily, that of hope, and all the other
virtues with all the disinterestedness
of charity itself. I have said
ordinarily, because this condition is
not without exception, it being
only habitual and not invariable.
God knows I have never taught
anything surpassing these limits.
I do not think there is any risk
that the sacred tribunal will ever
condemn a doctrine if authorised by
the Fathers, the theological schools,
and by as many illustrious saints
whom the Roman Church has canon
ised. As regards the expressions in
my book, if they are prejudicial to
truth, they must be corrected. I
abandon them to the judgment of
my superior ; and I should be very
annoyed to trouble the peace of the
Church if it only debates the interest
of my person and my book.

Life of Fdnelon. 79
" Such are my sentiments, sir, in
departing for Cambray, having
offered to God, from the bottom of
my heart, everything I was able to
yield up before Him. Permit me,
then, to exhort you to enter into the
same spirit. I have not spared any
thing, human or temporal, for the
doctrines I believe true. I have
not left the Pope in ignorance of any
of the reasons to sustain this doctrine.
This is enough ; it is for God to do
the rest if it is His cause I have de
fended. We do not regard either the
intentions of men or their procedure,
it is God alone whom we must
behold in all this. Let us be the
children of peace, and peace will
remain upon us. It shall be
grievous, but it will be more pure.
Do not hurt good intentions by
any stubbornness, anger, human art,
or any natural haste for our justifi
cation. Simply render an account
of our faith. Leave us to be
convicted if there is need, and let
us suffer correction itself, even when
we have not merited it. As for you,
sir, you ought to be a sharer in that

80 History of the
silence, that submission and that
prayer. Pray for me in such urgent
necessity. Pray for the Church
which endures these scandals.
Pray for those who act against me,
to the end that the spirit of grace
may be in them for my undeceiving,
if I am deceived ; or to do me
justice, if I have not committed any
error. Finally, pray for the interest
of prayer itself, which is in peril, and
has heed of justification. Perfection
has become suspected : it is needed
in order to banish the slackness
of men and fill them with it.
Disinterested love appears a source
of illusions and abominable impiety.
It has been the custom of Christians,
under the pretext of safety and
precaution, to seek God only through
selfish interests. It prohibits such
souls all the more from advancing to
perfect contrition, and of serving God
through a pure motive by which they
had, hitherto, desired that sinners
themselves should be brought back
from their wanderings : I must say
the goodness of God is infinitely
lovely.

Life of Fdnelon. 8 1
" I know some have abused
pure love and abandoned it. I
know that some hypocrites, beneath
such beautiful names, subvert the
Gospel ; but pure love is none the
less the perfection of Christianity ;
while the worst of all remedies is
the wish to abolish perfect things,
in order to resist that which they
abuse. God is better able to provide
than men. Let us humble ourselves,
let us keep silence ; instead of
reasoning about prayer let us make
it a study. It is in so doing that
we defend ourselves. It is in
silence wherein our strength lies."
This letter was immediately given
to the public, and every one admired
the pacific dispositions of Fdnelon.
After this declaration he was left in
peace to await the judgment of
Rome. What could they dread
from a man who had no intentions
of deceiving, and who asked to be
corrected ?
Meanwhile de Paris and de
Chartres sent to Rome a unan
imous declaration against the Book
of Maxims, which the Bishop
6

82 History of the
of Meaux accompanied with a
summary of the odious doctrine
which he imputed to Fenelon as
the necessary consequence of his
principles. Fenelon, at first, did not publish
his defences. He sent them in
manuscript to Rome, but the Car
dinals informed him that as it was
impossible to furnish such large
memoirs to all the members of the
sacred office, and as the accusations
made against him had been pub
lished in France, it would be better
for him to adopt that course also.
Fenelon then resolved to print
according to the circumstances he
found himself in.
The Archbishops of Paris and of
Chartres were more circumspect in
the dispute than the Bishop of
Meaux, and did not endeavour to
make all uphold the same doctrine.
This prelate, primarily, advanced a
paradox which astonished all the
schools. He held that mental
prayer necessarily substituted a
multiplicity of distinct acts, and of
discursive meditations, and that

Life of Fdnelon. 83
passive prayer, of which the mystics
speak, is a miraculous and extraor
dinary state which excludes all
co-operation of free-will. That is
to say, in other words, that it is
something remarkably unnatural,
and against nature, to rest in the
presence of the loved object, and
to express our love of Him by
silence and looks, rather than by
public addresses and discourses.
The Archbishop of Paris himself
declares that this opinion is equally
absurd in the order of nature and
of grace.1
Besides this, Bossuet denied, at
the beginning of the dispute, not
only the possibility of a habitual
state, where one loved God for Him
self, but also the acts of pure love,
pretending that love was no other
motive than hope ; that is to say, it
is not possible to love an object
for its perfections, but only for its
benefits. The Bishop of Chartres,
head of all the theologians of the
school,2 and the doctors of Louvaine
1 Instruct, des Past. 27th Oct., 1697.
2 Instruct, des Past. 10th June, 1698.

84 History of the
in particular, abandoned that idea
as contrary to all divine and
human sentiments.
We thus see upon what wheels,
common to the three bishops, the
dispute principally revolved against
Fenelon. This prelate had always
said that perfect love perfected the
acts of hope by those of love, and
that they did not desire perfect
happiness solely as a state wherein
they would be pleased and rejoice ;
but, on the contrary, it was a con
dition that exalted, purified, and
consummated our love. He had
made use, like the mystics, of the
sentence of " one's own interest " to
signify, not salvation, but the
imperfect motive by which we desire
salvation. Notwithstanding these
explanations, corrections, and reit
erated protestations, the Bishop of
Meaux always willed that Fenelon
intended that sentence in the first
sense, and implied that he taught,
under the name of " the sacrifice of
one's own interest" the indifference
to salvation.
The Bishop of Chartres approved,

Life of Fdnelon. 85
in his mandamus, of this sinister
and odious interpretation. The
Archbishop of Paris did not attack,
in his pastoral letter, the intentions
of Fenelon, but insinuated through
out that all the terms of the book
favoured this error.
The Archbishop of Paris and of
Chartres immediately ceased writ
ing. The Bishop of Meaux alone
continued the dispute, and deluged
France with letters and rejoinders.
In the course of this dispute
Bossuet avowed that the Book of
Maxims was not an abridgment of
the manuscripts which Fenelon had
given him during the conference at
Issy. Before the issue of the book
he sent word, as we have already
seen, to Fenelon, that he did not
resent anything except the " some
thing I cannot describe,"1 which
separated them yet a little. After
the issue of the book, this feeling
of "something I cannot describe"
became an impious and profane
Quietism. I will not make a parade here of
1 See letter on p. 59.

86 History of the
all the epithets wherein this prelate
characterised, not only the doctrine,
but the person of Fenelon, who
always answered his obduracy by
reasons, without shocking the
gentlest Christian, or the Episcopal
gravity. Here is a sample of his
style which I annex.
" I pray God from the bottom of
my heart that He may not give by
His perfect love a complete victory
over you, unless you realise it with
all its charms. I wish that this
celestial fire which you desire to
quench may influence and consume
you, and inspire in you the zeal of
kindling it everywhere, and place
you full of this perfection of which
you desire to deprive men."
It is with this gentleness that the
Archbishop of Cambray shows the
continual and universal tradition of
the Church in all times and places.
But, in upholding the doctrines of
the Contemplatives, he submitted
his book, without cessation, and
ever distinguished between dogma
and the terms which he used as
instruments to explain it.

Life of Fdnelon. 87
The Bishop of Meaux, not
having been thoroughly assured
by his disputes upon doctrine, had
recourse to deeds, and published
a Relation concerning Quietism,
wherein he tried to overreach
Fdnelon on account of his blind
admiration of a female visionary.
The Archbishop answered this
philippic with so much force, yet
at the same time with such
good temper, that public opinion
turned against de Meaux, and
became indignant over the insinua
ting subtleties by which that prelate
had endeavoured to disparage the
truth to substitute in its place
ridiculous phantoms.
Meanwhile the examination of
the Book of Maxims was proceed
ing at Rome. The ministers of
that court put forth every effort,
but unsuccessfully, to quieten the
storm, and to escape giving a
decisive judgment against a prelate
so esteemed. The volume had
been put into the hands of the
Committee of the holy office, who
were ten in number. They con-

88 History of the
tinued their meetings for nearly
eight months, working with extreme
diligence, and in the end — were
divided in their opinions. Five
were in favour of censuring, and
five others held that its doctrine
was sound. The Archbishop of
Chietti, one of the members, boldly
declared that it would be necessary
to burn the books of St. Francis de
Sales, or admit those of the Arch
bishop of Cambray. His opponents
were divided among themselves,
some of them admitting propositions
which the others rejected. In the
end the matter was carried before
the holy office. The Pope gave
orders that the meetings should
be held three times a week,
and the Cardinals were allowed ten
months wherein to examine and
discuss everything.
Some days previous to the final
decision, the Pope suggested to the
Cardinals the feasibility of termin
ating the dispute by an Apostolic
decree wherein they might imitate
certain canonical councils upon
the interior life, without expressly

Life of Fdnelon. 89
condemning the writings of the
Archbishop of Cambray. The
Cardinal, casa nata, haughtily
rejected this proposition as author
ising the Book of Maxims, "a course
which would," said that dignitary,
"set Rome at variance with
France." At last, after an examination of
eighteen months' duration, the
expected judgment was announced.
Pope Innocent XII. issued a Brief
carrying condemnation of the book,
and of the twenty-three propositions
extracted from it.
Fdnelon immediately yielded to
the decision, and issued a manda
mus, which will be an everlasting
monument of his respect for the
Church, and of his love for peace.
Here it is : — "Cambray, 9th April, 1699.
" Dearly beloved brethren, we
come before you without reserve,
caring no more for ourselves, but
for the flock confided to our care.
It is in this spirit we feel impelled
to open our heart here to you, and

90 History of tke
continue to make you partners of
that which touches us concerning
the Book of Maxims. At last,
our Holy Father the Pope has
condemned the book, with the
twenty-three propositions extracted
from it, in a Brief dated the
1 2th March. Dearly beloved
brethren, we adhere to that Brief'
concerning the text itself and the
twenty-three propositions, entirely,
absolutely, and without the shadow
of a reservation. We console our
selves, dearly beloved brethren,
with that which humiliates us,
provided that the ministry of the
word we received from the Lord
for your sanctification will not
become weakened, and that not
withstanding the humiliation of the
Pastor, the flock will grow in grace
before God.
"With all our heart, therefore,
we exhort you to show a sincere
submission, and a docility without
exception, lest you insensibly de
part from the simplicity of that
obedience, by which we desire, by
means of the grace of God, to give

Life of Fdnelon. 91
you an example until the last breath
of our life.
"God forbid that He should
ever speak to us if it is not to
call to mind that a pastor should
ever be more docile than the
outermost sheep of the flock, and
that he put no limit to his obe
dience." In awaiting the order of the King
to publish this mandamus, he wrote
to the Archbishop of Arras the
following letter : —
"My Lord, " Permit me to tell you
abruptly that you have been too
much reserved in keeping silence.
Who should speak to me, if not you,
the senior of our province ? There
is nothing, my lord, that you are
unable to say without discretion.
Although I perceive what should
be done, I ought, nevertheless, to
say to you that I feel more at peace
than I have been for fifteen days.
All my conduct is decided. My
superior, in giving judgment, has
released my conscience. There

92 History of the
remains nothing more than to
submit myself, to hold my tongue,
and to carry my cross in silence.
May I venture to say to you that
this is a state that carries with it
consolation for an honest man, who
looks only to God and regards not
the world ? My mandamus is be
come, thank God, my sole business,
and it is already completed. I
have aimed at choosing the shortest,
simplest, and most absolute terms.
It would have been already published
if I were not waiting the commands
of the King ; but I have requested
M. de Barbezieux not to wound the
practices of the realm, out of respect
to the reception of the Bulls and
other juridical acts of Rome. That
is, my lord, the sole reason that
retards the publication of my
mandamus. Without doubt it
humiliates one's self, but the least
resistance to the sacred tribunal
would be one hundred times more
expensive than the advantage to
my heart, and I avow that I
cannot comprehend that it would
have been befitting such an occa-

Life of Fdnelon. 93
sion. I suffer, but do not hesitate
a moment." 1
However distinctly and promptly
Fdnelon had made his submission,
certain individuals looked upon it as
an act of policy, while Protestants
interpreted the Brief of the Pope as
a condemnation of the ancient doc
trine of the saints. I cannot better
clear up these two points than by
reporting what I have learned from
the life of the Archbishop himself.
I do not argue the matter, I only
make known his statements. Here
is what he frequently stated to me :
" My submission was not a stroke
of policy, nor a discreet silence, but
an interior act of obedience given
to God alone. Agreeable to Cath
olic principles, I have regarded the
decision of my Superiors as an
echo of the divine will. I was un
able to arrest the passions, preju
dices and disputes preceding my
condemnation. I heard God speak
ing to me, as Job did, out of the
midst of his troubles, and He said
to me : ' Who is he who mixes
"NoteN.

94 History of the
his conversation with thoughtless
speech?' And I answered Him
from the bottom of my heart:
4 Seeing I have spoken indiscreetly,
I have only to put my hand upon
my mouth, and keep silence.' Since
then I have not intrenched myself
in frivolous subterfuges upon the
questions of right and of fact.1 I
have accepted my condemnation in
all its entirety. It is true that the
propositions and expressions which
were of use to me, and a good
number of others equally strong
(with a very few exceptions), were
found in the canonised authors, but
they were not suitable for a dogmat
ical work. There is a difference of
style becoming to different persons
and subjects. There is a style of
the heart and another of the
intellect; a language of sentiment
and another of reason. That which
is frequently a beauty in the one is
a blemish in the other. The Church,
with an infinite wisdom, permits
the one to her ordinary children,
but it requires the other from its
1 Note O.

Life of Fdnelon. 95
doctors. It alone can, therefore,
according to different circumstances,
without condemning the doctrine of
the saints, reject their erroneous
expressions which they have mis
taken." These are the opinions
which the Archbishop of Cambray
always maintained to me concerning
his book. What an example of
docility !
After the condemnation of the
Book of Maxims, his adversaries
made earnest solicitations with the
Pope through the Court of France,
to make him condemn the apologet-
ical writings of that prelate. But
the supreme pontiff refused, with
immovable firmness, and would
never pronounce any judgment
against these writings, whatever
they spread abroad in Rome,
although the Archbishop of Cam
bray had developed the doctrine of
pure love in a manner much more
extensive than in his Book of
Maxims: an invincible proof that
the Church does not change in
dogma in proscribing the false and
hyperbolic expressions of the saints.

96 History of the
That prelate immediately for-'
warded his submission to the Pope.
His holiness, thereupon, wrote him
a Brief full of commendation of his
doctrine and piety, and commissioned
Cardinal Spado to forward it. The
Cardinals, partisans of the Bishop of
Meaux, representing to his holiness
that the French would be better
able to read it in the form of a
Brief, giving a greater appearance
of condemning the book, induced
him to efface several passages.
Shortly afterwards his holiness
made Cardinals of three examiners
out of the five who had voted against
the condemnation of the Book of
Maxims, — Rodoloiric, Archbishop
of Chietti, Gabrielli and Sperelli.
The condemnation of the Book
of Maxims was written in a manner
to displease the Bishops of France.
Innocent XII. only said that the
Bishops had voluntarily carried this
matter to his tribunal in the first
instance. The censure was only in
the form of a Brief; the usual terms
in like decisions, in order to make
them authentic, were omitted, and

Life of Fdnelon. 97
the offensive expression of propre
mouvement was not found in it.1
The opponents of Fdnelon beheld
all this with chagrin, but they had
too many self-interests at stake to
allow that Brief to overstep all
these formalities, which, in other
times, had always been regarded as
encroachments against the liberty
of the Gallican Church.
The King ordered all his Arch
bishops to assemble their suffragans
to receive the Brief. The Arch
bishop of Cambray was treated
well or ill in those synods, according
as the Bishops were more or less
attached to the court. Some made
a pretence of exaggerating the
Archbishop's errors, but the greater
number contented themselves with
making a eulogy of his. submission.
In no part was he more ill-treated
than in his own palace, by his
suffragans. Although he had stated
expressly in his mandate that
he rigidly adhered to the Pope's
decision, and that he desired to
give an example of docility without
1 Note P.

98 History of the
reservation until his latest breath,
yet the Bishop of St. Omer said
to him, that his words were not
marked by an inward acquiescence,
as they left him an open door for
retracting his submission.1
Fdnelon was not shocked at an
accusation so odious. Preserving
his tranquillity, he thus addressed
his suffragans with an episcopal
firmness and sweetness : —
" You are assembled here, not to
examine my mandamus, but to do
altogether what I am here to do in
particular. I say to you with
perfect sincerity, as to my friends
and not as to my judges, that it is
with the whole intelligence of my
mind I have given up all thought of
explaining my work. I prefer the
authority of the sacred tribunal to
my feeble lights. I am incapable
of ever going back against its
decision, under the pretext of a
double meaning, for the purpose of
indirectly eluding my condemnation.
It is true I cannot avow, unless
against my conscience, that I have
"NoteQ.

Life of Fdnelon. 99
believed any of those errors which
have been imputed to me. I have
only thought that my book does
not signify nor favour errors with
the corrections I have sought to
make. " But I renounce my opinions to
conform to those of the holy father?.
I have endeavoured to accept, by
humble words and complete sub
mission, the humiliation that has
come to me from the supreme
Pontiff. If his holiness finds my
submission defective, I am ready to
augment it, and to make it such as
the sacred tribunal deems more to
the point."
The question having been after
wards discussed in the same
assembly, whether they would
demand of the King the suppression
of the apologetic writings, the
Bishop of St. Omer advanced the
proposition that the condemnation
of a book entailed the suppression
of the writings made in defence
of it.
The Archbishop of Cambray
made answer, "that he was never

ioo History of the
aware of any rule in the Church
which represented that the censure
of a book implied the right of
condemning the apologetic writings
of the same work, while he was
able to cite contrary authorities ;
that the example of the book of
Jansenius, cited by the Bishop of
St. Omer, had nothing conclusive
in it, seeing the propositions of
that author were declared to be
absolutely heretical. Yet it only
appeared natural that he should
give way further to the Brief of the
Pope, who had neither condemned
nor prohibited his apologetic writ
ings, although such a statement was
spread abroad in Rome ; that he
was prepared, nevertheless, as
President, to leave the decision to
the majority of votes in the name
of the Assembly." Such is the
statement he made, but in noting
expressly that it was against his
opinion. Nearly a year afterwards he held
an assembly of the clergy at St.
Germaine in Laye, where the
Bishop of Meaux was chosen to

Life of Fdnelon. 101
make a statement of everything
that had occurred concerning the
constitution of the Pope against the
Book of Maxims.
This prelate obtained little satis
faction from the mitigated qualifica
tions to which the Pope had limited
himself in his Brief, and again yet
more so, because his holiness did not
include the apologetic writings of
the Archbishop of Cambray in that
condemnation. It was this which
determined the Bishop of Meaux to
go much further than the supreme
pontiff, whom he styled in his proces
verbal, "the first Bishop who was
instructed by Jesus Christ to lead
the whole flock," and of which the
court of jurisdiction is, according to
him, " the mother church, established
to direct all the churches."
The strongest qualifications which
this first Bishop and this mother
church make use of, are that the
propositions of the book were in
considerate, pernicious in practice,
and otherwise erroneous. But this
prelate accused Fdnelon of being
the patriarch of a sect, whose max-

102 History of the
ims are not only rash, but impious ;
not only dangerous in practice, but
blasphemous in speculation ; not
alone respectively erroneous, but
absolutely heretical. Here is the
abridgment he made of the new
spirituality in favour of which Fdn
elon had written, according to him :
" The salvation that we hope for
in Jesus Christ, the eternal glory,
enjoyment of God and the beatific
vision, appear matters far too low to
touch the souls arrived at the pre
tended pure love.1 Jesus Christ, as
the Saviour, resembles us too much
to be the worthy object of Contem
plative love. They do not trouble
themselves either about being saved
or of heing damned, and this it is
which they designate the indifference
of the saints ! They easily sacrifice
that which they held so indifferently
in the latest trials, or they realise
the sin, in order the better to realise
the damnation."
In this same proces verbal, so
exaggerated against Fdnelon, the
assembled Bishops rendered tes-
1 Proces Verbal, pp. 238-240.

Life of Fdnelon. 103
timony to the purity of Madame
Guyon's life, in declaring, as for the
"abominations which they regarded
as the sequel of her principles, they
had never been made a question, as
she had always testified against them
with horror"
This authentic testimony will be
an everlasting monument of the
innocence of that lady. For the
assembled prelates only granted
this to her after she had been five
years in prison ! During that
period they made diligent enquiries
in all the places wherein she had
resided since her youth. They
examined in the provinces, near and
remote, every individual whom she
had known. They had employed
threats, promises, and the prisons in
order to induce the two chamber
maids, who had for many years
been witnesses of her conduct, to
testify against her. They had
forced her, meanwhile, to undergo
many captious interrogations by
different judges. They transported
her from prison to prison to induce
her firmness to give way : from

104 History of the
Vincennes to Vaugirard, from
Vaugirard to the Bastille. Yet the
truthfulness of her answers, the
purity of her life, and the uniformity
of her conduct during so many
years, at last wrested this avowal of
her innocence from so many Bishops,
directed by the Bishop of Meaux.
She remained, notwithstanding,
three years in prison, sick and
suffering, after the trial of the
Archbishop had been finished. She
always entreated that they would
mention her crime whereof they had
proved her culpable. Finally, she
had to be released without anything
having been proved against her,
and she was exiled to Blois, where
she passed nearly twelve years,
honoured and esteemed by all for
her excellent understanding, sincere
piety, and her rare worth and
modesty, even by those who had
entertained the strongest prejudices
against her. Fdnelon always main
tained for her the same friendship,
esteem, and confidence. At last
she died at Blois, deeply regretted
by all her relatives and friends.

Life of Fdnelon. 105
The catholicity of her opinions,
the purity of her manners, and the
truth of what I have said of the one
and the other appear in her will, of
which I here extract a portion from
the original, because the last acts
previous to death are sacred in all
nations. "In the name of the Father, the
Son, and the Holy Ghost, to the
honour of the Incarnate Word, with
the intercession of the Holy Virgin
and of Saint Michael. This is my
last will and testament, in the execu
tion of which I pray the executors
hereafter named to maintain this
writing. "It is to the Lord my God that
I fully commit all that I have done,
as it is to Him that I owe every
thing. O ! my God, do with me
all Thou pleasest; I make Thee
an irrevocable gift of my soul and
body to dispose of according to
Thy will. Thou seest, Lord, my
misery and poverty ; Thou knowest
I desire nothing in heaven or upon
the earth but Thee alone. It is
into Thine hands that I commit my

106 History of the
soul, resting my salvation not in
anything good in me, but only upon
Thy mercifulness, and the merits of
my Lord, Jesus Christ.1
u I die maintaining that I am a
true daughter of the Catholic and
Apostolic Church of Rome ; that I
have never for a moment discarded
these opinions, since the day I have
had perfect use of my reason. I
have never been a moment without
at least being disposed to wish to
shed for her as far as the last drop
of my blood, as I have always
testified to it on every occasion,
always avowing and declaring so
everywhere, quite as many times as
I was able, having always and at all
times submitted the books and
writings I have compiled to the
Holy Church, my mother, for whom
I have always had, and shall ever
have, through the grace of God,
an inviolable attachment, and an
unquestioning obedience, having no
other opinion, and never desiring
to admit any other than her own,
condemning, without restriction, all
"Note R.

Life of Fdnelon. 107
she condemns, even as I have ever
done. " I must, for the sake of the truth,
and my own justification, firmly
protest, that while some have given
false witness against me, have
added to my writings, making me
believe and think that to which
I had never given a thought,
and from which I was infinitely
removed ; and some have counter
feited my writings several times ;
some have joined calumny to
falsehood, making me undergo
captious interrogations, not wishing
that I should write what would
justify me, and interpolating my
answers, placing weight on what I
did not say, and suppressing the
true facts — I say nothing of other
matters. I pardon everything, and
that with all my heart, to those who
have caused me to suffer grief,
having no desire to remember the
same." Before I quit this matter I wish
to take notice of the three glowing
testimonials rendered to the inno
cence of this lady, during the three

108 History of the
principal epochs of her life. She
had been at first examined by
Archbishop de Harlay, of Paris,
during the space of eight months,
and she entirely exonerated herself.
Afterwards the Bishop of Meaux,
who had a strong interest in
proving her guilt, gave her a clear
voucher after an examination of six
months. And finally, an assembly
of the Gallican Church, after most
exhaustive enquiries concerning all
the facts of her life, rendered public
testimony to her innocence.
During these disgraces of the
Archbishop of Cambray, Tdldmaque
was published, and became the
admiration of Europe. The book
was published contrary to the
intentions of the author, through
the deceit of a domestic, thus
furnishing a new pretext to his
enemies of defaming his character
in the mind of the King, who,
having been impressed with the
submission of the Archbishop, had
begun to recover from his prejudices
against that prelate. Tdldmaque
having been written for the purpose

Life of Fdnelon. 109
of showing to a young Prince 1 the
obstacles attendant upon supreme
greatness, painted for him all the
beauty of kingly virtues, he thought
it needful to comprise in it some
general portraits which could be
applicable to Princes of all times and
places. Supposing that he had, in
the representations of Tdldmaque,
drawn certain pictures bearing
reference to the defects of Louis
the Great, one will also find traits
there that set forth all the royal
qualities of this great King.
This it is that one can perceive
in the admirable apology of Kings
that Mentor makes at the end of
his twelfth book, which had been
omitted in the first edition.2 The
new disciples of St. Augustine,
having watched the persecution of
the Archbishop, offered themselves
to write in his justification. Jan
senius, the Abbd of St. Cyrus,
M. Pascal, and M. Arnaud were
not opposed to pure love. We find
some admirable traits of this in
1 The Duke of Burgundy, Fe"nelon's pupil. (D. C. )
2 NoteS.

no History of the
their works. Father Gerberon,
Benedictine Monk, had written to
inform the Archbishop of Cambray
that he had a work, almost ready,
in his defence, and stating all he
desired was his permission to publish
it, and a contribution towards the.
expense. Here is the reply he
gave to that letter : —
"You ask me to send some
money for the printing of a work,
written to justify my belief. I
suppose that this work is such a
one as you describe ; that it treats
entirely of the genuine questions,
and not only justifies my judgment,
while it does not defend, either
directly or indirectly, my condemned
book. You will be able to under
stand that money counts little with
me, when it does me such important
service. But, as I have had so
many applications to write in my
defence, previous to the decision of
Rome, I have made up my mind,
since that decision, to hold my peace,
to suffer in silence, and to commit
my reputation to Providence.
"You have, doubtless, read the

Life of Fdnelon. 1 1 1
collection of thirty-two propositions
which I taught were proven from
the authorities of the saints. The
genuine sense in which I had in
tended to write is there explained.
This work, and my other apolo
getic writings, have been considered
at Rome, Paris, and by every one.
I have protested before God in all
these writings, that I have believed
nothing beyond what they contain,
and I have never favoured any of
those errors imputed to me.
"Since the decision of Rome, I
have repeated the same declaration
solemnly in the Proces Verbal of our
provincial assemblies, which is none
the less public than the verbal pro
cesses of other provinces, and whose
acts are part of the same general
assembly of the clergy of France.
Why should I add useless repeti
tions to these clear elucidations ?
What is there of equivocation in
this conduct ? Far rather would I
desire to die than to defend directly
or indirectly a book which I have
condemned unreservedly, and with
sincerity of heart, by submission to

1 1 2 History of the
the sacred tribunal. Everything I
wrote concerning my personal in
terpretation, in showing a portion
of the meaning of the text, would
be regarded as a desire to return
again to resume the war, and to
enter anew upon an apology for my
work. It is neither just nor edify
ing when an author perpetually
wishes to occupy the Church with
his personal quarrels, to love more
to continue a trouble without end,
than to humbly carry his cross.
When they will not hearken to a
Bishop concerning his own aims,
that he has so frequently explained
by writing, to what purpose would
he speak again ? He cannot, so
far as concerns himself, either give
edification or more worthily uphold
his station than by perfect silence.
The Church suffers enough owing to
the scandals caused by such dis
putes, for me to have any desire to
renew them, through a delicacy for
reputation. God will be honoured
of His minister if He condescends
to save him for the profit of the
ministry in this diocese. It appears

Life of Fdnelon. 113
to me that neutral and just people
are edified through my silence, and
do not doubt my good faith in this
matter. No writing will persuade
those who have no desire to be
persuaded. "You can well understand, sir,
that it must be duplicity, unworthy
in a Christian, to desire to write no
more himself, and to be in secret
agreement with a stranger who was
writing for me. Thus I hope you
will neither be pained nor surprised
at the resolution I have made,
to take no part, either directly or
indirectly, on any work upon this
subject. I am none the less sen
sible of your offer, because I have
not accepted it."
This prelate always evinced the
same opinions upon his book until
his death.
The Archbishop of Cambray,
humiliated well-nigh to excess, filled
with opprobium, and exiled in his
diocese, yet there experienced that
abiding peace which always accom
panies pure virtue.
In fulfilling with earnestness all
8

114 History of the
the functions of Episcopal life, he
only studied to make men good and
happy. As he desired to ascertain and
know, through his own efforts, those
who had devoted themselves to
the clerical state, he recalled his
seminary to Cambray, which was
then situated near Valenciennes,
some eight leagues from his resi
dence. He assisted at the examin
ations of candidates for holy orders,
to whom he happened to be
Archbishop, and thus saw each
inmate at least five times before he
obtained priest's orders. Besides
the instructions given them during
the time of these retreats, and the
principal feast of the seminary, he
held with them conferences weekly
upon the principles of religion. He
strongly desired each student to lay
bare his difficulties to him. He
listened to them with an infinite
tenderness, and answered all with
fatherly kindness. Frequently the
objections made by them were out
of the question. To make them
feel at ease, he stooped to their

Life of Fdnelon. 115
level, so as to accommodate himself
to their comprehension, and to
give strength more easily to his
objections by a turn of expression,
supplying the occasion for coming
back to principles. At these con
ferences I have frequently heard
him, and have exceedingly admired
the evangelical condescendence per
vading everything he did, and the
sublimity of his addresses.
Fdnelon practised the general
visitation of his diocese with such
assiduity, that the troubles of the
war never appeared to interrupt
him, while he preached in each
church. Nothing shows the char
acter and piety of the Archbishop
of Cambray more, than the different
methods he took, in his public
instructions, so as to accommodate
himself to the understanding of his
hearers. He humbled himself for
the most uninstructed, whilst thus
elevating his genius to sublime
heights. His sermons were inspired
out of the fulness of his heart. He
did not write them. Neither did he
premeditate them. He contented

1 1 6 History of the
himself with retiring to his study in
order to imbibe, through prayer,
the light for everything. Like
Moses, the friend of God, he
ascended up to the holy mountain,
and afterwards returned to the
people to communicate to them
what he had learnt in that ineffable
conversation. In these public discourses he
traced back everything to love, but
to that Love which produces and
perfects all the virtues. He ban
ished all subtle ideas, abstract
reasonings and superfluous rhetoric,
which injured the simplicity of the
Gospel. This genius, so refined,
thought but of speaking, like a
good father, to console, to comfort,
and to relieve distress.
He wished all the affairs in his
diocese to be reported to him, so as
to examine into them personally ;
but he maintained, none the less, a
concern for important business in
the discipline and consultation with
his curates and other prebendaries
of his council, who met together
twice weekly. He did not allow

Life of Fdnelon. 117
either his rank or talents to decide
the question, without persuasion.
He investigated the Fathers for his
brethren ; he accepted advice from
them, and profited by their experi
ence. " The Pastor," he frequently
said, " needs to be even more docile
than the flock. It is needful for
him to learn unceasingly, in order
to instruct; that he be often sub
missive, so as to command well.
Wisdom increases wisdom by
everything it receives from others."
He did not rest contented with
the merely superior functions of
the episcopate; he practised the
same duties as an ordinary priest
in confessing, and in directing
numerous affairs pertaining to the
laity, submitted to his guidance.
Since his decease there has been
printed a collection of letters which
he had written to these individuals.
We there perceive how far removed
he was from turning spirituality into
a dry and barren speculation. We
find there the loftiest sentiments,
founded upon the most sublime
principles, sufficient to the compre-

1 1 8 History of the
hension of the most simple ; a
knowledge of the human heart,
which unveiled all its bents and
windings ; the subtleties of self-
love, the delicacies of Divine love
unfolded and made known ; a gentle
piety, full of condescendence for
the faults of others, and yet a death,
which was laid upon the mind and
the spirit, and upon the heart over
the whole man, which never left
any expedient to the misdirected
love of the creature or of self.
His life corresponded to his
morality. Hard and severe upon
himself, he never affected an austere
appearance, but in manners was
always gay and amiable. He tried
to imitate our Great Model, whose
simple customs and affability scan
dalised the devout Pharisees of His
time. Fdnelon slept but little, ate
but little, and never permitted him
self any pleasure but what he
found in the fulfilment of his duties.
Walking was the sole recreation he
took for his relaxation during all
the time that he was Archbishop of
Cambray.

Life of Fdnelon. 119
In these walks he passed the
time, either in useful conversation
with his friends or seeking some
occasion for the further well-being
of those in his diocese. When he
encountered any of the peasants, he
sat down with them on the grass
growing near by, questioning the
worthy fathers upon the state of
their family, gave them advice as
to the best means of regulating
their household, and of leading a
Christian life. He entered their
houses frequently to speak to them
of God, and console them in their
miseries. If these poor people presented
him with some refreshment, accord
ing to the custom of the country,
he never neglected tasting it in
return for their tokens of friendship.
He never showed any false delicacy
to them, either upon the poverty of
their condition, or upon the unclean-
ness of their cabins. He became
as one of themselves, by the fatherly
tenderness of a heart moved by the
love of Jesus Christ, poor and
destitute.

120 History of the
Poor himself, in the midst of
abundance, he distributed nearly all
his revenue among hospitals, among
students whom he was educating,
to convents of girls who were in
need, to honest peasants, to individ
uals of all ranks and nations who
had occasion to test his generosity
during the period of the wars.
While he thus watched over his
flock like Saint Ambrose, he prayed
like Saint Anthony in the deserts
of an interior solitude. Everything
men admired in him was as nothing
in comparison to this divine life,
by which he walked, like Enoch,
before God, and was unknown of
men. The ordinary condition of the
human mind is a species of delirium.
The soul is, without this, moved by
a whimsical succession of vague
thoughts and contrary passions.
Philosophical heathens thought that
man could only be happy by an
inward tranquillity which fortified
not only the actions, but also useless
thoughts} But Christianity alone
"NoteT.

Life of Fdnelon. 121
can raise us to this condition,
through that peace of the Holy
Spirit, that unity and simplicity of
which the Gospel speaks.
Such is the divine quietude to
which the Archbishop of Cambray
inwardly endeavoured to arrive at,
as he outwardly occupied himself
with fulfilling all the ordinary duties
of humanity and religion pertaining
to his rank. He dropped all subtle
ideas and inquiet desires so as to
maintain his life pure and tranquil
without restlessness and distraction,
filled with God only, and emptied of
everything not according to His
order, always attentive to the
supreme Reason, and ever submis
sive to the supreme will. This
sacred design of the spirit and heart
had reduced him to a simplicity
which made him contemn his
natural talents. I cannot better
give a conception of this condition
than by giving his own words, from
a meditation he had made upon the
Christmas Feast : —
" I adore thee, uncovered child
Jesus, naked, weeping, and lying in

122 History of the
the manger. Would that I loved
more your childhood and poverty.
O ! that there might be given me
also poverty and a childhood like
Thine! O! Thou Eternal Wisdom,
increase this childish spirit, remove
from me my vain and presumptuous
wisdom. Make me a child with
Thee. Be silent, ye sages of ^ie
earth. I desire to be nothing, to
know nothing, to believe thoroughly,
to endure everything, to suffer the
loss of all. The Word was made
flesh, the all-powerful Word of the
Father kept silence, stammered,
wept, cried out childishly ; and as
for me, shall I stimulate myself to
be wise, and please myself in the
arrangements suitable to my mind ?
Shall I fear lest the world should
never have a sufficiently high idea
of my genius ? No, no ; all my
desire shall be to grow less, to cease
from my own inclinations, to hide
myself, to silence myself, to bear the
obloquy of the crucified Jesus, and
to add thereto the incapacity and
helplessness of the child Jesus."
This death to the understanding

Life of Fdnelon. 123
necessarily cost more to the Arch
bishop of Cambray than to another.
He knew the great principles of
nearly all the chief sciences, and
had studied them to discover in all
the truth and necessity of love.
But he despised the ostentation of
learning, which only served to
inflate the mind. When he found
it needful to study, he searched
deeper into the subject than any
other individual ; but he only
studied for the requisite want of
knowledge, because he believed
himself bound to renounce all the
spurious riches of the intellect, and
to become wise with moderation.
It was this that the doctors, who
lingered round about frivolous
questions, never could comprehend.
Through this fidelity he arrived
at such diffidence of himself, that
he effaced what was found fault
with in his works, without false
modesty, pain or conceitedness, and
without envy of his first opinion.
I have most frequently admired
this docility to alter what his fruit-
fulness had produced.

1 24 History of the
The Archbishop studied to live
more after this manner, in the
peaceful exercise of his Episcopal
functions, at the period when the
discords upon Grace were troubling
his rest.
That dispute brought upon him
the most cruel reproaches and the
most atrocious calumnies. He was
regarded as a wily and ambitious
man, who was only seeking to
have himself recalled to court.
In order to show the unity and
integrity of his conduct, and how
he was actuated by a principle of
conviction, it is necessary here to
make an analysis of his opinions on
Grace. We there see that he had
never attacked the true Thomism.1
Here are his principles.
We never have, according to the
Archbishop, any free-will for the
supernatural good, without the
Grace of the Redeemer. This
Grace not only gives light to the
spirit of the eternal virtues, but it
anticipates the desire, delivering
from the chains of concupiscence,
1 The doctrine of Thomas Aquinas.

Life of Fdnelon. 125
animating and putting it always in
a state of agreeing to the action of
the Divine. But, according to this
prelate, Grace is never stronger
than is necessary to make the will
consent, because the will is not
powerful enough to resist it. This
is what the Archbishop termed
" equilibrium." 1
When we do good it is only
needful to consent to the action of
God, who disposes us by His Grace
to agree after this manner. When
we commit evil, we only resist the
action of God, which shows there
is nothing good, within or without
us, that we might make it a
merit. Through this, one grants all to
the Creator without making Him
the author of evil. Nothing remains
to the creature without Grace, but
the melancholy power of growing
lewd and of becoming vitiated ; or,
at most, of doing through self-love
what it can only do through God
alone. It cannot, without this
Grace, do any action of which God
"Note U.

126 History of the
is the end, nor consequently for
whom He will be the recompense.
Pursuant to the Archbishop of
Cambray, the system of the two
delectations destroys liberty. All
is the effect of a delicious sensation,
which acts unexpectedly, and invin
cibly allures the will by a sweet
empire, yet never leaves one any
other choice at the actual moment.
The will only is free because it can
be stirred differently at different
times. That is to say, that this
system reduces the freedom of the
mind to the mobility of a stone,
which, perchance, can be pushed
sometimes on one side, and some
times on the other. According to
this system, free-will is the use that
God can make of the human will,
and not that which we make.
Still more, says the Archbishop,
this system annihilates charity as
distinguished from hope. He
regards God no more than as a
beautifier. The idea of the infinite
perfection (the true motive of
charity) is the clearest and most
luminous of all the ideas ; neverthe-

Life of Fdnelon. 127
less, it disturbs, it stirs up, it strikes
us less sensibly than the perfection
of the completed objects. It only
acts upon the spiritual part of
a soul, which has laboured long
to behold, to purify and separate
itself from sensible objects. A
heart, whose only desire is pleasure,
never can be touched. Its love
does not surpass attrition. To love
God for the pleasure of which
He is the source, or to love
through fear of being deprived of
those pleasures, reduces itself to
the same thing. The Church
thunders against all Quietism,
which disclaims pure expectation :
but it abhors alL J'ansenism, which
banishes pure charity. It desires
that we should exercise the actions
of both of these two virtues. It
discriminates and unites them with
out destroying either.
Finally, according to the Arch
bishop, this system frequently
rewards impracticable virtue. If
pleasure were the only resort of the
human heart, and the sole reason
of determining our will, it would be

128 History of the
impossible to love virtue, unaccom
panied by an apparent delight.
For the will cannot love without a
motive of love, neither move itself
without a source of movement.
Behold piety reduced to a spiritual
sensuality, which can never inspire
us with any noble virtue, and will
frequently leave us without resource
against vice. Here is how Fenelon
has spoken of the temptation of a
man who acted according to these
principles : —
" Celestial delight has abandoned
me. I feel no more than the one
depraved pleasure. I reckoned upon
a sweet and invincible virtue
which would keep me above all
my weaknesses. I looked upon the
Christian life as the delight of
devotion. I flattered myself with
the idea of going all right to Paradise
by a road strewn with roses. I
wept with joy at it. I believed
that I saw the heavens opened.
I did bless God who desired to
wean me from this world to become
happier in the next. But, unfortun
ately, six months ago, I fell into

Life of Fdnelon. 1 29
a great mistake. The source of
religious pleasure is of a sudden
taken from me. I feel only the
delight of sin. In the condition in
which I am, it is also impossible for
me, according to the declaration of
our doctors, to resist the victorious
pleasures of vice which travel post
haste without a horse."
From this the Archbishop of
Cambray concludes that there is
a love of order, of beauty, and of
perfection, beyond all fancy and
sentiment, which can act in us, when
we miss the obvious pleasure of
Grace, and which is a sufficient
reason to affect the will in all
the privations and troubles we
encounter in the sacred paths of
virtue. It was thus, according to
this prelate, that the saints imitated
their great Model, and kept faithful
to God, amid the most terrible
sufferings. The capacity of their
soul was filled up through the
purifying pains of love, and yet
these divine Lovers rendered them
selves submissive to the supreme
Will ; not because it was delectable,

1 30 History of the
but because it was just. The
means by which God effected this
was not by the agreeable impression
He made upon them, but the pure
knowledge given of that which was
His due. For they had been often
bereft ofevery celestial and terrestrial
consolation, as far as to cry with
their divine Chief, My God, my God,
why hast Thou forsaken me ?
This conception of the Arch
bishop's upon the double cause of
the will is, therefore, a necessary
sequel of his doctrine of pure love.
The Bishop of Meaux, in combating
this doctrine, had taken away every
resource of reasoning against Jan
senism. He only left that of
authority to overwhelm without
convincing them. The Archbishop
of Cambray always consented to
the decision of the Church with
the most just reasons. He recon
ciled obedience and persuasion.
He restored everything to the
unity of principles. He was always
in accord with the same.
The Jansenists had no other
expedient to use against him than

Life of Fdnelon. 131
to state, that he was no theologian.
It was as if one said that a lawyer
was not learned, because he did not
obscure his question by obscure
terms, as he unfolded the meaning of
laws by clear and simple principles,
such as are approved by the legis
lature. He has been reproached with
having advanced ideas far exceed
ing the authority of the Church.
Here are the three principles
which they formalised against him.
1. The tacit or expressed consent
of the majority of assembled or
not assembled Bishops stamped
those decisions of the sovereign
Pontiff with the sacred character
of a dogma of faith. 2. The
Church is the sole judge of the
limits of her authority ; otherwise
every private individual might
believe himself in the right in
protesting against her decision,
under the pretext that she had
passed the limits. 3. The Church
is also infallible in judging of sound
words and of healthy doctrine ;
otherwise her infallibility would be

132 History of the
useless. Inasmuch as it is only
by the speech we are made to
hearken to the thoughts, if in
thinking good she spoke evil, her
canons would be more injurious
than if she thought evil in speaking
well. Thence, he concludes, it is
necessary to submit one's self to
the Church, when she condemns,
not the personal and inward
thought of the author, of which she
cannot pretend to be judge, but the
natural meaning of his text. We
see by the simple exposition of
these maxims that they are the
necessary and natural consequences
of Catholic principles.
While the Archbishop thus up
held the truth, he was far removed
from corrupting charity by a bitter,
imperious and Judaic zeal. He
never exercised any tyranny in his
diocese. In attacking the pre
judices of men he always spared
their persons, and respected their
virtues. Yet those who did not
know his character believed he
personally rejoiced in the disgraces
of the Cardinal de Noailles. Here

Life of Fdnelon. 133
is the manner wherein he explained
himself, a year previous to his
death, in a letter to one of his
friends. "Cambray, 12th March, 17 14.
" The greater number of people
are able to imagine I have a secret
and malign joy in everything which
has taken place. But I would
esteem myself a demon if I relished
so empoisoned a joy, and if I had
not a genuine grief concerning that
which darkens the Church so much.
In all candour and confidence, I
declare to you (what others besides
yourself may not easily believe),
that I am truly sorry for the person
of the Cardinal de Noailles. I, my
self, am at one with him in all his
griefs. I greatly sympathise with
him. I seldom fail to remember
what has passed, or omit to recall
all the kindness he honoured me
with during so many years. All
the rest is forgotten, I thank God
from my heart. Nothing there is
altered. I only regard the hand of
God alone, who has, through merci
fulness, seen fit to humiliate him.

134 History of the
God Himself is witness of the sen
timents of respect and of zeal He
has put in me for this Cardinal.
"The piety I have observed in
the Cardinal de Noailles made me
hope he would conquer himself for
the sake of giving peace to the
Church, and of silencing the enemies
of religion. His example, at first,
might have brought back the most
intractable and most ardent minds.
This, in all the ages, might have
been a special glory for him.
Every day I pray for him at the
altar, with the same zeal which
during twenty years I have en
tertained for him."
In the year 1710, I had the
honour of seeing the Archbishop of
Cambray for the first time. I be
lieve I am obliged to relate the
conversations I had with him upon
religion ; because they will make
known the character of his mind,
and show, at the same time, that his
piety, far from leading to a subtle
Deism and to independence of all
visible' authority, as his enemies
have insinuated, furnishes, on the

Life of Fdnelon. 135
contrary, the strongest proofs of
Christianity and Catholicism.
Born, as I was, in a free country,
where the human mind shows itself
in every form without constraint, I
perused most religions in quest of
the truth. The fanaticism or con
tradiction which reigned in all the
different Protestant systems re
volted me against all sects of Chris
tianity. As my heart was not corrupted
by the great passions, my mind
could not relish the absurdities of
atheism. To believe that nothing
is the source of everything which is,
that finite is eternal, or the infinite
a collection of all finite beings,
appeared to me extravagances more
untenable than the most insane
doctrines of any sect of believers.
I chose, therefore, to take refuge
in rational Deism, which limits itself
to reverence for the Divinity, and to
the immutable ideas of pure virtue,
without regard either to outward
worship, priests, or mysteries. I
could not, however, shake off my
respect for the Christian religion,

136 History of the
the morality of which is so sublime.
A thousand doubts frequently dis
tracted my mind. To precipitate
myself at once into Deism seemed
to me a bold attempt. To go over
to any sect of Christians appeared
to me a childish weakness. Thus
I wandered hither and thither in
the vague principles of an extrava
gant toleration, without being able
to find a definite point to rest upon.
It was in this state of mind that I
arrived at Cambray.
The Archbishop- received me
with that paternal and insinuating
goodness which immediately won
my heart. During the space of six
months I entered with him into
a very extended examination of
religion. I am not able here to
repeat everything he said to me up
on this matter. I will only relate
the substance of it. Here is, as
nearly as possible, how I unfolded
my principles.
" God demands no other worship
than the love of His infinite Perfec
tion, from whence flows all virtues,
human and divine, moral and civil.

Life of Fdnelon. 137
All the philosophers, all sages of
every nation have had some idea of
this natural religion, but they were
mixed with dogmas more or less
true, and expressed by a worship
more or less apt. All kinds of
religion are agreeable to the
Supreme Being, while men make
use of ceremonies, opinions, and
even the errors of sect itself, to
carry them to the worship of the
Divinity. An exterior worship is a
necessity ; but the different forms
of this worship are, like the various
forms of civil government, more or
less beneficial according to the use
made of them. I cannot tolerate
the idea that true religion is limited
to one particular society. I admire
the morality of the Gospel, but all
speculative opinions are indifferent
things to me, in which the sovereign
Wisdom is made little else than an
accident." He answered me thus :
" You will not be able to remain
in your independent philosophy,
neither in your vague tolerance of
all sects, without regarding Christi
anity as an imposture. For there

138 History of the
is no reasonable middle course
between Deism and Catholicism."
This idea to me appeared a
paradox. I asked him for an
explanation. He then continued :
"It is necessary to limit one's
self to natural religion, founded on
the idea of God, and reject every
supernatural and revealed law ; or
if we admit one, we must recog
nise some supreme authority which
speaks every moment for the
interpreter. Without this fixed
and visible authority, the Christian
Church would become like a
Republic to which wise laws had
been given, but without magistrates
to fulfil them. What a source of
confusion ! each claiming to be
right, the book of laws in hand,
disputing concerning its sense.
The Divine books are not to be
used to feed our vain curiosity,
jealousy of opinions, and presump
tuous arrogance. There can only be
one text, but there would be as
many different ways of interpreting
it as there were men. Divisions,
and also subdivisions, would be

Life of Fdnelon. 139
multiplied without end, and without
resource. Can our Sovereign
Legislator not provide better for
the peace of His Republic and
the preservation of His law ?
Besides, if there is not one in
fallible authority which says to
all . . . Here is the true mean
ing of the sacred writings . . .
you cannot expect the dullest
peasant and the simplest artisan to
engage himself in an examination,
when the scholars themselves can
not agree. God would do amiss to
the necessities of nearly all men in
giving them a written law, if He had
not given an infallible interpreter
upon it, to save them a search of
which they are incapable. Every
simple and sincere man only needs
to be sensible of his ignorance, in
order to perceive the absurdity of
all sects, which found their separa
tion from the Catholic Church upon
the proposal of making him a judge
of matters which surpass the natural
capacity of his understanding. Do
you believe the new Reformers who
ask the impossible, or the ancient

140 History of the
Church which provides for human
inability ?
"Finally, you must reject the Bible
as a fiction, or be submissive to this
Church. Consult the sacred Books.
Examine intelligently the promises
Jesus Christ made to the hierarchy,
the depository of His law. He says,
Everything she binds upon the earth
shall be bound in heaven; that he
will be with her until the consum
mation of the ages ; that the gates of
hell shall never prevail against her ;
that he who hearkens to her will
himself be heard ; that he who scorns
her will be despised ; and finally,
that she is the foundation and the
column of truth. You cannot escape
the force of these expressions by
any commentary ; you have no
resource but to reject entirely the
authority of the Legislator and that
of His law."
I replied to him with some
warmth : " What, my lord ! You
ask me to consider some earthly
society as infallible ? I have
studied most sects. Permit me
then to state, with all due respect

Life of Fdnelon. 141
to yourself, that priests of all
religions are frequently more cor
rupt or more ignorant than other
men. They are all equally sus
pected by me."
In a sweet and moderate voice
he answered me : " If we do not
elevate ourselves above what is
human in the most numerous assem
blies of the Church, we will only
find there what offends us, stirs up
and feeds our unbelief, passions, and
prejudices, human frailties, political
aims, intrigues and factions. But it
is much more essential to admire
the wisdom and Divine omnipo
tence when His designs are accom
plished by means seemingly fitted
for their destruction. It is here that
the Holy Spirit Himself becomes
the director of the human heart.
He makes instrumental everything
that appears defective in particular
pastors for the accomplishment of
His promises, and, by an omniscient
Providence, watches for the moment
of their decision, and always makes
them conform to His will. It is
thus God operates in all and

142 History of the
through all. In the ecclesiastical
and civil powers, all are obedient
to His laws. All accomplish His
designs in a suitable or unbecoming
fashion. It is not the sanctity
of our superiors, nor their personal
talents, which make our obedience
a Divine virtue, but the inward
submission of the spirit to the
command of God."
I asked some time to think over
the strength of his reasonings ; I
turned them over in my mind ;
I examined them day and night.
After long researches, I at last
concluded that none could admit a
revealed law, without submitting
himself to its living interpreter.
But this truth made quite another
impression upon me, that seemed
unnatural. My spirit enveloped
itself in heavy clouds. I thought
everything the attacks of unbelief.
During the period of this extreme
agitation, I felt a violent temptation
to depart. I began to mistrust
Fdnelon's integrity. Only one
way remained of overcoming my
difficulties. This was to take him

Life of Fdnelon. 143
entirely into my confidence. What
conflicts racked me before I was
able to arrive at this simple
conclusion ! It was necessary,
nevertheless, to go through it. I
asked Fdnelon to grant me a
private interview. He did so ; I
knelt down before him, and said,
" Pardon, my lord, the greatness of
my perplexities. I suspect your
candour, and am no longer able to
listen patiently to you. If the
Church is infallible, you have then
condemned the doctrine of pure
love, in condemning your Book of
Maxims. If you have not con
demned that doctrine, your sub
mission was false. I find myself
under the stern necessity of regard
ing you as an enemy either of love
or of truth." Scarcely had I
pronounced these words when I
burst into tears. He raised me up,
embracing me with tenderness, and
thus made answer : —
" The Church has not condemned
pure love in condemning my book.
This doctrine is taught in all the
Catholic schools, but the terms I

144 History of the
used in order to explain it were not
suitable for a dogmatical work. My
book was worth nothing. 1 1 had
riot made out a case. It was the
abortion of my mind, and not the
fruit of Grace in the heart. It is
not worth your, perusal."
He related all this to me of his
book, in the way I have spoken, and
thoroughly explained that subject
from the foundation.
This conversation dissipated all
my difficulties concerning himself,
yet my doubts upon religion were
augmented. I perceived, in rea
soning philosophically, that it was
necessary to become Catholic or
Deist ; but rational Deism seemed
to me an extreme more reason
able than Catholicity. The truth
possessed my mind, while brooding
peace quitted my heart. I fell into
a profound sadness. Several weeks
went past without a word being
exchanged with Fdnelon. He tried
several times to unlock my heart,
while he, himself, took such an
insinuating way with me that I
could no longer resist him. Finally,

Life of Fdnelon. 145
I spoke to him in a trembling
voice : —
"Your last conversation has made
a strange impression upon me. All
my reading and researches have
availed me nothing. I perceive
well enough that there is no rea
sonable way between Deism and
Catholicism. But sooner than
believe all that Catholics ordinarily
believe, I choose to throw myself
into the other extreme. I retrench
myself in that pure Deism, which
is equally removed from insipid
belief and exaggerated unbelief.
My faith, freed from the multiplicity
of uncertain, subtle, and displeasing
opinions, will come to the eternal,
universal, and immutable religion of
Love. To feel this truth, each one
has only to re-enter into himself."
" How many men are there, or
how few," said he, "who are thus
capable of re-entering into them
selves after this manner, in order
to consult pure reason ? Suppose
there had been some men, here and
there, who were able to walk by
that pure intellectual way, yet the

146 History of the
ordinary run of men are incapable
of this, and need an exterior help.
The subtle passions of the will
are not more inconsiderate than
the grosser passions. Elementary
truths sometimes escape the intel
lects of even the most philosophic
of men. One finds no more fixed
principles to stay them in the
torrent of incertitudes, which leads
them away.
" As in civil society, it is necessary
to put the reason in writing; to
reduce these precepts into a body of
laws ; to establish magistrates for
their fulfilment, because all men are
not in a condition to regard and
follow by themselves the natural
law : the same in religion — men
having neither desire to hearken
with attention, or follow through
love the inward voice of Sovereign
wisdom, nothing was more worthy
of God than to speak Himself to
His creature in a suitable way
for convincing the incredulous, to
determine the visionary, to instruct
the ignorant, and to re-unite them
all in the belief of the same truths,

Life of Fdnelon. 147
in the practice of the same worship,
in submission to the one same
Church. Why do you feel so angry
against aids so necessary for human
weakness, without which the wisest
and most cultured nations have
fallen into the gravest errors regard
ing morality and the Divinity ? "
Eagerly interrupting him, I said,
" The philosophy of Love is common
to minds of every nation — to all
religions. We find traces of it
everywhere, even in the heart of
paganism. Simple souls have, per
haps, practised it better than the
philosophers who have spoken of it.
Each sect has mixed absurd opinions
of it. I find it in the Bible as every
where else. But, my lord, excuse
me from speaking further. I fear
to blaspheme what I am ignorant
of." He continued silent for a moment,
then he replied : " He who has not
experienced your conflicts in order
to arrive at the truth, does not
know its worth. Open your heart
to me. Do not fear to shock me ;
I see your position ; it is extraordin-

148 History of the
ary, but not without remedy, as "you
will discover."
I then continued : " It appears
to me that the Jewish Legislator
represents the Sovereign Being as a
tyrant, who renders all the human
race wicked because their first par
ents ate of a forbidden fruit. They
could not participate in that slight
mistake, previous to their existence :
yet, God punishes them, not only by
bodily sufferings and death, but in
abandoning them to every passion,
and finally to eternal punishment.
According to the common belief,
God neglects all the nations of the
earth only to occupy Himself with
a mean, rebellious, unjust, and cruel
people, whose dogmas and customs
appear unworthy of the Divinity.
" A second Legislator appears.
His morality is most sublime, and
His doctrine the purest. I cannot
say with certain bold spirits that He
was an impostor. I think Him an
excellent philosopher, who only
desired to render men good and
happy, by teaching them the true
worship of the Supreme Being.

Life of Fdnelon. 149
But the pretended depositaries of
His law have drowned it in a multi
tude of absurd fictions, obscure
dogmas, and frivolous opinions, mak
ing the Creator appear less lovely
to His creature."
He listened to me with an
admirable tranquillity until I ceased,
then he said to me: "God in His
oracles has so tempered light and
darkness, that this blending is a
source of light for those seeking
the truth to love it, and an abyss of
darkness for those who fight against
it for the purpose of flattering their
passions. The greater part of the
objections made by you are circles
of malign falsehoods which the
unbelieving give to religion. Have
the goodness to listen attentively to
me for an instant. Here is another
plan of the Bible.
" God desires to be loved as He
merits before He makes Himself
to be seen as He is. The luminous
view of His essence determines us
invincibly to love Him, but He
desires to be loved with a free love,
of pure choice. It is for this that

150 History of the
all free beings pass through a state
of probation, before arriving at the
supreme beatitude of their nature.
The beginning of their existence is
a novitiate of love.
" The angels and our first parents
having abused their liberty in a
paradise of immortality and delights,
God has changed our condition of
trial in a mortal state, blended the
good and evil, to the end that the
experience of the void and nothing
ness found in us may create an
unceasing desire for a better life.
Ever since our birth, we have had a
tendency towards evil. Our souls
are condemned to terrestrial prisons,
which obscure our minds and dull
our hearts ; but through the Grace
of the Redeemer, this concupiscence
is not an invincible force, which
enchains us ; it is only an occasion
of combat, and through that, a
source of merit. To love God
amid privations and pains is a
condition more meritorious than
that of the angels, living in enjoy
ment and pleasures. Behold the
mystery of the Cross, so scandalised

Life of Fdnelon. 1 5 1
by the imagination and for the
self-love of profane men.
" We are all then born diseased,
but the remedy to cure us is
always present. The Light, which
enlightens every man who comes
into the world, never fails a single
individual. This Sovereign wisdom
has spoken differently, suitable to
different times and places ; to some
by a supernatural law, and the
miracles of prophets ; to others by
the natural law and the wonders of
Creation. ' Each will be judged
according to the law he knows, and
not according to what he is ignorant
of. Neither shall any one be
condemned because he only pro
fited by what he had heard, for he
merited in knowing to advantage.'1
" At last God came Himself,
under a bodily presence, to expiate
sin, and to show us, by example,
what is His due. God cannot
pardon the criminal without show
ing His horror of the crime ; this
is what He calls His justice, which
jesus Christ alone could satisfy.
1 St. Augustine.

152 History of the
He has shown to men, to angels
and all celestial spirits, the infinite
opposition of the Divinity to the
subverting of His order, since it
cost so many agonies to the God-
Man. "Moreover, this offering of Jesus
Christ, sacrificed through homage
to the Divine holiness, His deep
humiliation before the Supreme
Being, and His infinite love of
order, is the everlasting model of
love, adoration, and homage of all
intelligences. It is through this
that they learn what belongs to the
Infinite Being, in penetrating into
the worship He Himself rendered
to Himself through the sacred
humanity. "The religion of this eternal
pontiff consists only in Love. The
sacraments, „ ceremonies, the priest
hood, are only salutary helps to
alleviate our weakness, outward
signs to keep alive in us and others
the knowledge and love of our
common Father ; or, in short, a
necessary means for our return into
order, union and obedience.

Life of Fdnelon. 153
\ " Very soon these measures shall
c^ase, the darkness be dispelled,
the true Temple reveal itself, our
bodies gloriously resurrected, and
God will communicate eternally
with His creatures, not solely accord
ing to His pure Divinity, but under
a human form, to show us entirely
the mysteries of His essence and
the marvels of His creation.
" Such is the general plan of
Providence ; and it is for you, then,
to say of the philosophy of the Bible,
was there anything more worthy of
God, or more fitted to comfort men,
than those noble and lofty ideas ?
If this is not the veritable truth, I
do not imagine any man is able to
demonstrate it."
I then said to him : " Were not
Moses and Jesus Christ able to
form this beautiful system, by
a philosophic mind, without any
Divine mission ? Were they not
able to pretend intercourse with the
Divinity — not to deceive men, but
to obtain credit for their law, and to
render us good and happy in learn
ing us true morality ? "

1 54 History of the
He replied : " Moses and Jesus
Christ have proved their mission by
supernatural deeds, showing the
character of an infinite wisdom and
power. I need not speak of the
miracles of Moses, neither of the
incorruptible transmission of the
books, wherein the history is con
tained. You will be able to perceive
the proofs in the excellent discourses
of the Bishop of Meaux upon uni
versal history.1 He has shown the
chain of tradition since the origin
of the world. It is strengthened by
reflections, which equally mark the
breadth of his intellect and the
scientific bent of his understanding.
" I need not mention to you the
acts predicted in these ancient books,
requiring not only a Divine wisdom
for their reception, but an infinite
power for their accomplishment.
Such was the conversion of the
Gentiles to Christianity, an occur
rence which, depending on the free
co-operation of man, demonstrates
plainly that the God who revealed
Himself had an incommunicable
"Note V.

Life of Fdnelon. 155
empire over hearts. I will not
enter," he continued, " into detail of
those deeds (so visibly conspicuous)
that the law of the Jews came to
exalt. I go right away to Christi
anity. In demonstrating its truth,
we prove that of Judaism, seeing
that the Legislator of the Christians
is supposed Divine.
"The miracles of Jesus Christ
have not been done in a corner, in
impenetrable retreats, or in extraor
dinary places, but everything in the
face of a hostile, unbelieving people,
and afterwards spread abroad by
the apostles through many different
nations, who had a powerful interest
in the conviction of their falsity, if
there had been any suspicion. Our
Lord fed a multitude of people with
two or three loaves. He expelled
incurable maladies by a simple
word. He raised again the dead
from the tomb. He raised Him
self from the dead. Everything
was notoriously open, when the
slightest imposture would have
been easy to discover. He brought
no deception into action which

156 History of the
fascinated the eyes with cunning
tricks or subtle operations of
physique, but wrought palpable
deeds, visibly contrary to the com
mon laws of Nature. The simple
and the wise everywhere were
equally judges, nay, had only to
open their eyes to be convinced of
its truth.
" Moreover, everything conveyed
the impress of a goodness and in
finite power which acted without
parade, and from whence marvels
only appeared as if let fall out of
compassion for mankind, in order
to soothe their bodily miseries or
to cure their souls.
" These miracles were only done
to establish the true worship of the
Divinity. Jesus Christ assures us
that He only did these things to
bring back man to his true mind,
to the end that he might seek there
proofs of His doctrine, of which the
end and consummation is Love.
" Further, the principal eye
witnesses of these miraculous deeds
cannot be suspected. It is possible
that men through prejudice, or

Life of Fdnelon. 157
stubbornness, suffer all kinds of
evil to sustain their speculative
errors, because they are able to
persuade themselves in good faith
that these are truths ; but why
should men, without any desire of
pleasure, or of ambition, of tem
poral or eternal recompense, expose
themselves to every kind of present
evils, and afterwards to the re
vengeful justice of a God, enemy of
falsehood, to sustain what they had
heard with their ears, and saw with
their eyes, which had never been ?
This love, uninterested in impos
ture and malice, is absolutely in
compatible with human nature,
above all in those men who passed
their lives in practising and fulfilling
the sublimest morality which has
ever been.
" Do you find these three charac
teristics of truth in the pretended
miracles of the magicians and
imposters of Appolonius and Maho
met ? They were able to give
mankind an ostentatious spectacle
in order to surprise, to amuse, and
to make them appear rulers. But

158 History of the
were these things, done so publicly
and seen by reliable witnesses,
destined to establish such a pure
morality ?
"The religion of Moses, consi
dered on its merits and without
reference to Christianity, might be
thought to be suspected of politics.
One might be able to say that
while the magicians of Egypt had
imitated a portion of his wonders,
he only surpassed them in the
magical art. But in the religion of
Jesus Christ we cannot see any
pretext for unbelief, or a trace of
politics, or a single vestige of
human self-interest. The miracles
prove the Divine mission of the
Legislator, and the purity of His law
proves His miracles were not im
postures. When a legislator desires
to deceive men by false wonders,
and takes advantage of their cre
dulity to make himself ruler, does
he invent a religion destroying
everything of man, restores what is
foreign to him and which reverses
the idolatry of the ego, teaching us
to love God more than ourselves,

Life of Fdnelon. 159
and to love no other but Him ?
Jesus Christ demands that love, not
only as an homage due to the
Divine perfections, but as a neces
sary means of rendering us happy.
Banish mean motives for an in
finitely small moment. Jesus Christ
desires us to regard this life as the
infancy of our being, as an obscure
night wherein all pleasures are only
dreamy pathways, and all the evils
salutary aversions inclining us to
wards our true country. To enter
into our nothingness, our powerless-
ness, our darkness, He desires us to
expose ourselves without cessation
before the Being of Beings, that He
may retrace in us His image, and
embellish us with His own beauty ;
that He may quicken and enlighten
us ; that He may impart the good
to be good, the reason of life, our
perfected affections as our true
light, so that by these He may
produce in us all human and Divine
virtues, that we may become trans
formed to Him, so that He absorb
and make us complete in His
divine unity.

160 History of the
" Behold the worship in spirit
and in truth the Gospel offers!
a worship that man finds conforms
itself to his natural ideas, when
one sees it for himself; a worship,
nevertheless, wherein one observes
almost no trace in the most refined
paganism. It was only after
Christianity had enlightened the
world, that the Pagan, Arabian, and
Persian philosophers assumed this
language which they have always
spoken imperfectly.
" Everything agreed in Jesus
Christ. His life corresponded
with His doctrine; This Divine
Legislator did not content Himself
with giving to men the naked
and sapless precepts of a sublime
morality. He practised them
Himself, and put before our eyes
the example of an accomplished
virtue, without pretence, having
nothing of the earthly in it. His
whole life was simply a web of
suffering, a perpetual adoration,
a profound humiliation before the
Supreme Being, a submission with
out limit to the Divine will, and an

Life of Fdnelon. 161
infinite love of order. He died at
last, as One abandoned by God
and men, to show us that perfect
virtue, sustained by the sole love of
justice, is able to live in us truly, in
the midst of the most terrible
suffering, without any shadow of
obvious delight, either heavenly or
terrestrial. Did you ever find
anywhere else such a legislator, or
such a law ? We will not find the
true worship of love, developed and
purified, practised any other where
than among the Christians.
" The establishment of such a
religion among men is the greatest
of all miracles. Notwithstanding
all the Roman power, in spite of the
passions, the interests, the preju
dices of so many nations, of as
many philosophers and different
religions, twelve poor fishermen,
without art, without eloquence, or
show of force, everywhere diffused
their doctrine. In spite of three
centuries of persecution, which
appeared to extinguish them at
the moment, notwithstanding the
perpetual martyrdoms of an innu-

1 62 History of the
merable number of persons of all
conditions and sects of all countries,
truth finally triumphed over error,
according to the predictions of the
ancient and the new law. Show
me any other religion, bearing such
visible marks of a Divinity, which I
defend. A conqueror may estab
lish by his arms belief in a religion
flattering to the mind ; a wise
legislator may make himself res
pected and attended to by the
ability of his laws ; while a sect,
accredited and sustained by the
civil power, may take advantage of
the credulity of the people : all this
is possible. But who could have '
foreseen victorious, wise, and incred
ulous nations rendering themselves
so promptly to Jesus Christ, who
promised nothing to them in this
world except persecution and suf
ferings, who proposed to make
them believe mysteries abhorrent to
the human mind, and the practice
of a morality which sacrifices all
our most favoured passions, and, in
a word, a faith and a worship alike
grievous together to our reason and

Life of Fdnelon. 163
self-love ? ' Is not that a miracle
grander and more incredible than
those we do not wish to believe, to
have converted the world to such a
religion without miracle ?'"1
I answered him thus : " What
you have told me, my lord, aston
ishes and strikes me. Nevertheless,
I have always felt disposed to re
gard those acts, so far removed, as
having been exaggerated, altered,
o'r invented by the priests and poli
ticians who made this religion of
use to domineer over the people."
He answered : " None can doubt
of the truth of these acts, seeing the
books wherein the history is con
tained have been received and
translated by a great number of
diverse people, as soon as they
appeared. They have been read in
the assemblies of nearly all nations,
century after century. Yet they
have not been accused of falsity,
neither by Jews, heathens, nor
heretics, who would have had a
powerful interest in combating and
disclosing the imposture. The
"St. Augustine.

164 History of the
Jews, while testifying to their truth,
said that Jesus Christ had done His
miracles by magic, yet they did not
reject them as supposed. The
Pagans were not able to disown
these facts any more than the Jews.
Celsus, Porphyry, Julian the Apos
tate, Plotinus.and other philosophers
who, in the earlier times, attacked
Christianity with every conceivable
subtilty, testified to the truth of the
miracles of Jesus Christ, the sanctity
of His life, and the authenticity of
the books wherein His history was
contained. Lastly, numerous and
successive sects, disturbers of the
Church in each century, invincibly
prove they were not able to
corrupt the sacred text, without the
imposture being discovered. Then,
in ascending century after century
until Jesus Christ, the Christians,
Heretics, Jews, Pagans, Greeks,
Romans, and the Barbarians all
rendered testimony to the same acts
and books. As the certitude of our
ideas depends upon the universality
and immutability of the evidence
accompanying it, the same certitude

Life of Fdnelon. 165
of deeds depends upon the univer
sality and immutability of the tradi
tion they confirm. It was impossi
ble they could have persuaded any
nation, and afterwards several
others, of that which they had at
first seen with their eyes and heard
with their ears, if the things had
never existed ; that the memory of
these deeds were supposed to be
successively and universally perpet
uated in all the centuries by differ
ent people, wherein the interests,
religion, and prejudices were con
trary; that these people conspired
with their enemies to diffuse an
illusion which confounded and con
demned them ; and yet, neverthe
less, neither in the actual peribd of
the imposture, nor in the subse
quent periods were they ever dis
covered ; that, I say, is not only in
credible, but absolutely impossible."
I then said to him : " I am
delighted with this unity of proofs,
taken from the miracles and the
morality of the interior spirit of the
law, and the interior marvels of the
Legislator. The base and mercen-

1 66 History of the
ary ideas, common to religion,
appeared to me unworthy of a
Divine mission. The miracles of
the Legislator were suspected by
me, when I was unaware of the
beauty of the law. But, my lord,
why do we find in the Bible so
striking a contrast of luminous truth
and obscure dogmas ? I wish very
much to separate the sublime ideas
whereof you chanced to speak,
from those the priests designate
mysteries." He replied : " Why do you reject
so much light which consoles the
heart, because it is mixed with
shadows humiliating to the intellect ?
Does not true religion, while it ele
vates and abases man, show entirely
his greatness and his weakness ?
Again, you have not a sufficiently
extended idea of Christianity. Not
only is it a saintly law purifying the
heart ; it is also a mysterious wisdom
subduing the mind. It is a contin
ual sacrifice of one's self in homage
to the Sovereign Reason. In prac
tising His morality, we also re
nounce our pleasures for the love of

Life of Fdnelon. 167
the Supreme Beauty. In believing
His mysteries, we sacrifice our ideas
through respect for the eternal
Truth. Without this double sacri
fice of thoughts and passions, the
holocaust is imperfect, our sacrifice
is defective. It is in that way
everything of man entirely dis
appears and vanishes before the
Being of Beings. It is not neces
sary to examine ; it is necessary that
God, who is revealed to us, reveal
also the mysteries to humiliate our
understanding. He knows how to
operate; whether it is needful to
grant us a revelation or not. If He
speaks to His creature, obedience
and love are inseparable. Christi
anity is a fact. Seeing you do not
doubt most of the proofs of this
fact, it will not do any longer to
choose what you want to believe,
and what you will not believe. All
the difficulties of which you have
collected examples, disappear as
soon as the mind is cured of pre
sumption. Then we have no doubt
in believing what is in the Divine
nature, and in acknowledging, in the

1 68 History of the
direction of His Providence, a depth
impervious to our feeble reason.
The Infinite Being must be incom
prehensible to the creature. On the
one side we behold a Legislator
whose law is all made Divine, who
proved His mission by miraculous
deeds, of which we cannot doubt, by
reasons likewise stronger than some
have supposed. On the other side
are found several mysteries displeas
ing to us. What causes embarrass
ment between these two extremities
of a clear revelation and an incom
prehensible obscurity ? There is
no way left but in the sacrifice of
the spirit, and that sacrifice is a part
of the worship due to the Supreme
Being. " Has not God an infinite under
standing, which we have not ?
When this is revealed by a super
natural vision to some, they do not
examine the wkerefore of these
mysteries, but the certitude of their
revelation. They appear to us
incompatible, without being, in
effect; and this incompatibility
comes apparently from the little-

Life of Fdnelon. 169
ness of our mind, which has not
sufficient intelligent knowledge to
perceive the affinity of our natural
ideas with those supernatural truths.
" Christianity adds nothing to your
pure Deism but the sacrifice of the
spirit, and Catholicism only makes
that sacrifice more perfect. To
love purely, to believe humbly, such
is all the Catholic religion. We
have, properly, only two articles of
faith : the love of an invisible God,
and obedience to the Church, His
living oracle. All other particular
truths absorb themselves in these
two simple and universal virtues,
which are within the comprehension
of all minds. Is there anything
more worthy of the Divine perfec
tion, or more essential for human
weakness ? "
I then said to him : " It is no
longer incomprehensible dogmas of
faith that hinders me, but certain
opinions which have insinuated
themselves among the priests and
people. Did not the Jewish Church
somewhat obscure the law by
uncertain tradition ? I believe that

170 History of the
the Church never taught dangerous
and damnable errors; but does it
not tolerate certain harmless errors
because they are useful, and at the
same time necessary, in the present
weakness of human nature ? Such,
for example, is the opinion upon
eternal punishment.1 Nothing can
be more dangerous than to affrighten
men with that saving fear. ' But
there is not anything in the natural
ideas we have of ,the Divinity, nor
even in the Sacred writings, which
opposes the belief, that sooner or
later all beings will be brought back
to Order. Look at the denouement
Origen contrived, to justify all the
ways of Providence. See the
answers made to the objections by
Celsus, of Bayle, and of all the
ancient and modern unbelievers
against the Christian system. Only
leave me this single opinion ; I give
up all the rest to you."
" No, no," he said to me : "I do
not wish to leave you any expedient
against the sacrifice of the spirit.
Supposing that the Church could
"NoteX.

Life of Fdnelon. 171
tolerate innocent errors, yet she has
never taught any dangerous errors,
justifying revolt and independence ;
why do you delay your submission
to her, and lose, in the Divine
incomprehensibility, all the vain
speculations which are able to set
limits to your obedience ? During
the obscure night of this life it is
not permissible to reason upon the
secrets of the Divine nature, or upon
the impenetrable designs of His
Providence. Allow me another
moment, and everything will be
explained. God justifies His con
duct. We shall see that His
wisdom, justice and goodness are
always in agreement and insepar
able. It is our pride and impatience
which hurries on the catastrophe.
Instead of waiting for the rays of
light, to give us rest, in emerging
from our darkness, we lose ourselves
in a labyrinth of disputes and errors,
of chimerical systems and peculiar
sects, which trouble, not only the
present peace of human society, but
disinclines us from the true life of
all the intelligent natures, who have

172 History of the
no will or understanding of their
own, because the same universal
Reason explains them, and the
same Sovereign love animates
them. Hitherto you have desired
to possess the truth. It is neces
sary at present that the truth
possess you, captivate, and strip
you of all the false riches of the
understanding. To become a perfect
Christian, it is needful to be deprived
of all, even of our ideas. It is
only Catholicism that teaches this
evangelical poverty. Impose si
lence, then, upon your imagination.
Keep your intellect in leash. Say,
without ceasing, to God : ' Instruct
me through the heart and not
the intellect ; make me believe as
the saints have believed ; make me
love as the saints have loved.' By
so doing you will be protected from
all fanaticism and unbelief."
It was thus that the Archbishop
of Cambray made me perceive that
no one could be wisely Deistical
without becoming a Christian,
neither philosophically Christian
without becoming a Catholic. Had

Life of Fdnelon. 1 73
a prelate who thus searched after
the hidden roots of truth a
superficial mind ?
The Archbishop reasoned with
the same force concerning the
proofs of Natural Religion, as
upon Revealed Religion. We
have proof of this in the two works,
printed since his death, on The
Existence of God, and his Letters
upon Religion, some of which
were written to the Due de
Orleans, who had always honoured
that prelate with a continual and
never varying friendship.
Dry and abstract minds will
not sufficiently understand the
merit of these two works. The
Archbishop was aware that the
complaints of the greater part of
those who were apprehensive
belonged not to their heart but to
their mind. He diffused through
everything sentiments to touch, to
interest, and to affect the heart.
He tempered the driest metaphysic
with an unction which prevailed on
the will, while it gave light at the
same time to the understanding.

1 74 History of the
We find in these works all the
principles of the most sublime
philosophy. It is this that I
desire to show in making the
analysis of his proofs of The
Existence of God, of the Liberty of
Man, of The Necessity of a Worship,
and of The Immortality of the Soul.
I, myself, waited upon him so much,
that I am able to give his own
words. I shall only make more
perfect what he has written, by
what he told me. Besides this,
I do not give reasons, I only relate
facts. This is not brought out for
the first time in my narrative, which
is to give the history of the mind of
the Archbishop, in writing that of
his life.
It is necessary that there be
something eternal.1 Nothing can
not produce that which is. The
Being Himself is not eternal, unless
He always carries in his own power
the necessity of His existence.
All finite beings may either be, or
not be. Every infinite, which is
not the Supreme Infinite, or the
1 The Existence of God.

Life of Fdnelon. 175
Infinite in every species, has
nothing in itself which makes
existence preferable to an infinite of
a superior degree; therefore its
existence is not necessary. The
Being through Himself, The Infinite
Being, the Infinite Absolute, are
therefore synonymous terms. It
is on this account that God defines
Himself, He who is.
The multiplicity is poor in its
apparent abundance. The Infinite
in every sense is, in the highest
degree, the One, and absolutely the
All. He is every Being and not
all the beings. He exists, He
knows Himself, He loves Himself
always equally. He contains that
which is real in every being, by an
indivisible simplicity, and not by
composition of parts. He knows
everything that is intelligible, in
knowing Himself. He loves
everything that is lovely, in loving
Himself. He is always able to
possess what is possible, by wishing.
We cannot see His essence, but we
have a clear idea of His* essential
properties. I acknowledge there is

1 76 History of the
here an infinitely small perception
of the infinitely Great; but it is a
very real one, that distinguishes all
finite or infinite beings in a single
species. Inasmuch as the Infinite
Absolute is the only Being who ex
ists through Himself; since finite
beings are not able to exist as de
tached particles of an indivisible
substance ; it must be that the
Eternal has a genuine power of
making exist that which was not.
We have not any idea of this female
creative power : but it is a necessary
part of the being in God, otherwise
the existence of finite beings would
become impossible.
We cannot comprehend the pro
cess by which God creates every
thing. He bestows existence every
moment, because He is able to take
away every moment. He can only
deprive in ceasing to give, or in
imparting nought. Nothing of
itself kives nothing. The preserva
tion of l^eings is, in consequence, a
perpetual gift, that is to say, a con
tinual creation. The being who is
dependent for his existence, can

Life of Fdnelon. 177
only be dependent for his operations.
Creatures act as they exist. They
receive their activity, like their being,
every instant. What a vast field
of truths discloses itself to the spirit !
It is God alone who creates
everything, and through His work
does all. He is, Himself, present
through all, and gives form and
motion to the corporeal world,
to souls their true lights and per
fect loves. He bestows, without
intermission, intelligibility to the
one and intelligence to the other.1
It is through Him alone they com
municate between themselves ac
cording to certain general laws He
has established to preserve order
and union in His works.
The second causes are only the
simple occasions of His action,
which escape us on account of its
delicacy, and that we falsely attri
bute to its adherents and ourselves,
thereby usurping the rights of the
Divinity. There is not, in all
finite beings, any shadow of genuine
strength other than that of our
"Note W.

1 78 History of the
liberty, so as to make us to consent
to the Divine Power, which en
lightens, stimulates, and moves us.
The impulse1 God impresses us
with towards the good in general, is
the foundation and essence of the will
and the source of all our love. But
this impulse never carries us invin
cibly towards any good in particular.
We are always able to stop to ex
amine if the good which presents
itself to us is real or apparent,
according to Order or against it,
good or bad, or only flattering to us.
We are able, in consequence, to
yield to the action of God through
respect for His adorable perfections,
or on account of our taste for agree
able sensations. Such is the double
cause which explains our liberty.
This ability of consenting to the
Divine action does not take for
granted an infinite strength in the
creature. It produces neither the
object, the action of the object, nor
the impulse towards the object.
Our action, by itself, is always
barren. That of God is alone pro-
"The Idea of Liberty.

Life of Fdnelon. 1 79
ductive of all our luminous and
beautifying perfections. It is a
unique source of all the truths and
pleasures affecting us. God gives
us, unceasingly, this activity (or
ability of choosing) as He gives
us our being. We have a being
different from His; at the same
time we have an activity different
from His. But as our being cannot
exist independently of His, so
our action cannot produce anything
without His, which does all in all,
through certain laws He has estab
lished. The universal law of Divine
communications for free beings is,
that God reveals Himself to them,
more or less, according as they
,yield more or less to His will.
Thus when one sins it is not
because there has been in the
creature a strength equal to that of
the Creator to arrest the action of
God ; it is himself who arrested it.
He does not act aright because he
missed a condition of his action.
In desiring to discover the
sovereign Good, every finite intelli-

1 80 History of the
gence would attach himself inevit
ably to it, but he will only be able
to attach himself, or give homage
to His infinite perfection, for
the love of goodness. To separate
these two passions is to commit
sacrilege. Nothing was more
worthy of God to confirm us
everlastingly in the pure love of
Order than to raise us to it through
a condition of trial, to enable us to
sacrifice incessantly our sweetest
sensations to the pure idea of His
infinite perfection. He thus makes
us free, to render us capable of
pure love.
This is the worship1 God
demands of His creature, and the
eternal condition of our union with
Him. Order demands that we
love His infinite perfections more
than our finite perfection. We are
only dependents and sharers of the
limited Good ; whereas, the first
Being is the unique Good, the
source of all the others, the Good
without limit, the independent
Good. Our love for this Good will
1 The Worship of the Supreme Being.

Life of Fdnelon. 181
also become a unique love, the
source of all our passions, a love
unlimited, a love independent of all
other desires. On the contrary,
the love of ourselves must be a
love derived from that primitive
love, a stream of love from that
source, a love limited and pro
portioned to the little portion of
good fallen to us in parcels. Such
is the true worship from which God
cannot dispense any intelligent crea
ture, and without which he cannot
unite himself to it. God is every
thing, and we only clothe ourselves
with nothing through having as
sumed a very small particle of being.
This ego, so dear to us, is that which
says, that a small piece wishing to
be the all sets itself up as a false
divinity. It is necessary to reverse
the idol to reduce it to its own
place. Some who possess this
foundation raise every edifice
concerning themselves upon it.
Religion, when found, develops
everything in our heart. The
existence of God, the liberty of
man, and the nature of religious

1 82 History of the
worship once established, the im
mortality of ithe soul follows from
these three principles.
We are capable of knowing and
loving the Infinite.1 God, in
creating a being with so vast a
capacity, had no other purpose than
to make Himself known as the
sovereign Truth, and to be loved
as the universal Good. During
this life man does not complete this
end. All his occupations here are
most unworthy of such a noble
capacity. For it is impossible that
God creates beings for the know
ledge and love of the Infinite,
without fulfilling the design of their
creation, unless they render them
selves incapable of this through
their own fault. This inconsistency
would be infinitely unworthy of the
wisdom and goodness of God, who
would never destroy a being that
loves Him, whom He had created
for His love. Supposing then that
the soul was material and mortal,
by its nature it might have immor
talised itself through Love.
1 The Immortality of the Soul.

Life of Fdnelon. 183
It was after this manner that the
Archbishop brought Atheists to be
Deists, Deists to be Christians,
and Christians to become Catholics
by a successive chain of ideas,
full of light and sentiment. Every
thing concentrated itself in the love
of Order ; all flowed from it. This
grand idea gave force, beauty,
dignity and unity to all his prin
ciples. I do not pretend to demon
strate this system here. But I ask
the unbelieving to show me another
(if there be another) as coherent in
all its parts, likewise second to it in
luminous consequences, and so
satisfying to the heart and the
understanding.1 I have spoken sufficiently of the
Archbishop as philosopher and
prelate. I now feel obliged to say
a word concerning him as an
Academician. During the period
he acted as preceptor to the Princes
he was elected a member of the
French Academy in the year 1693.
The discourse he delivered on
that occasion is a model of its kind.
1 Note Y.

1 84 History of the
His Tdldmaque, admired by all
nations and translated into nearly
every language of Europe; his
Dialogues upon Eloquence, his Letter
to the French Academy, and his
Dialogues of the Dead, equally illus
trate the beauty of his genius and
the nobility of his opinions.
His ideas of what we call elo
quence are none the less admirable
than those upon love. Through
out, we find the same unity of
principles. His design, in elo
quence as in argument, is to bring
men back to pure Nature, to make
them seek the sublime in the simple,
to make pleasure useful to virtue
and acceptable to the honest.
He reduces, therefore, all the
rules of true eloquence to depicting,
to persuading, and to moving the
passions. The true orator, accord
ing to him, only ornaments his
discourses with luminous truth and
noble sentiments, adorning them by
clear and natural expressions. He
thinks, he feels, and speech follows.
To depict well in speaking, the
Archbishop desires us to imitate the

Life of Fdnelon. 185
Raphaels' and the Can-aches', who
followed simple nature in every
thing, without seeking admiration
for their fine imagination in follow
ing it by means of the brush. He
desires his orator to enter into
society with the beings who sur
round him, even the most inanimate,
that he might animate them and
make them think, feel, and love.
When he speaks to them they must
answer him, but only speak what
shows simple nature, if it speaks in
them. He would not reject bold
types, vivid imagery, and lovely
pictures ; but he desires that the
beauties of the discourse bear a
resemblance to that of architecture,
where the necessary parts are
turned into ornament.
For the purpose of persuaditig,
he wishes the orator to be a genius,
orderly and correct, a true philoso
pher, who only finds beautiful what
is true ; who strives to show great
principles from their proper point
of view ; that from that point, as
from the centre, light would diffuse
itself upon the entire discourse ;

1 86 History of the
that each truth be in its place, and
be so prepared, introduced, and suc
cessively supported, that no falsity
will appear in the same tableaux.
To move the passions, says the
Archbishop, the orator should have
a unity of clear ideas and noble
sentiments. According to him, it
is necessary to know the human
heart, to have every resource for
stirring it up, to be himself per
meated by that wherewith he wishes
to persuade others, to the end that
heart may speak to heart, and the
understanding to the understanding.
It was essential that the love of the
beautiful should animate, elevate,
and so transport the orator that he
would so forget his own personality
and be unconscious of it, in order to
uphold only truth and virtue to the
hearer. By this idea of true eloquence the
false was made known. Observe
the contrast. In place of vivid
pictures and naive images, the
orator is only occupied with studied
antithesis, rounded periods, and
dazzling ornamentation. It is only

Life of Fdnelon. 187
V
to please the ears by harmonious
sounds that he polished, ornamented,
and purified his language. He was
ignorant of the fact that the florid
style, although it might, sometimes,
be sweet and agreeable, never could
elevate itself above a species of
mediocrity. Still further, false eloquence, in
place of true light, only sought fine
thought and delicate points. Here
is the description he made of it.
It does not go back to first prin
ciples. It does not content itself
with simple reason. It sprinkles
too much salt on everything. It
ignores the fact that too much
nicety degenerates into subtilty ;
that the exquisite taste dreads too
much excess, even of wit itself;
that it is not in having enough
makes one wish to show more, it is
in holding back the rest to keep to
the purpose. On the contrary, the
truly sublime is so simple, natural,
and familiar, that it seems obliged
to present itself first, and each
attempt makes one believe it is said
without effort; and yet little is

1 88 History of the
found, because it is only the superior
genius who seeks the simplest, in
order to follow pure Nature in
everything. Finally, false eloquence substi
tutes the maxims of the spirit
instead of the sentiments of the
heart; gives dry, prepared, and
moral sentences in place of those
natural and living movements of
a soul satiated by the love of the
beautiful. As long as oneTbelieves
self-love the source of all virtue,
he can say nothing great. He
will always be shut up iii himself,
a sphere much too limitediNr him to
take a hardy, noble, arJlf sublime
flight. L_y i
The Archbishop of Cambray
practised his own precepts. He
depicts, he persuades, he moves the
passions. He is accused of some
times passing too rapidly when
painting the passions. It is true
he does not always give himself
time to details of anatomising, and
by that means of dissecting the
truth. He takes up principles,
descends to consequences, and

Life of Fdnelon. 1 89
displays by a single trait every link
of the truth, then he converts all
to sentiment, and unceasingly brings
back man to his own heart.
The Archbishop of Cambray had
studied the various ancient writers,
poets, orators, and philosophers.
He knew their beauties and faults.
He admired the noble sentiments
and the vivid imagination of the
Greeks and Romans. He confessed
they did not know, like recent
writers, that order in argument,
which, beginning by simple prin
ciples, then proceeds gradually to
ideas more composite, pursuing the
truth in all its relations by a geo
metrical chain. They reached after
the truth by leaps and bounds, but
frequently attained the sublime
without knowing the intermediate
truths leading up to it. It was thus
they have spoken of the love of
beauty, of honesty, and of virtue
among themselves, in a manner
much more elevated than our
modern writers.
In the later years of his life
Fenelon had the opportunity of

190 History of the
showing, in a noteworthy inanner,
every virtue of a good citizen, his
love for strangers and his country.
The year 1709 was one of
extreme dearth. The army of
Flanders was without storehouses.
The Archbishop set an example to
the country in voluntarily supplying
grain for the maintenance of the
troops.1 The war coming near Cambray
in the years following, he became
the admiration of all the armies by
his love for the wounded and the
sick, and for his generosity in open
ing his house to the officers.
After the battle of Malplaquet,
his palace was not only filled with
wounded officers, but his seminary
also, which was vacant through the
absence of the young ecclesiastics.
He, himself, supplied everything
necessary for their nourishment and
relief. His charity even went the
length of hiring houses, when apart
ments failed with him. Every
other person would have believed
such expenditure excessive at a
" Estimated at upwards of ^4000 stg. (D. C.)

Life of Fdnelon. 191
time when the neighbourhood of
the armies considerably diminished
his revenues ; but he only measured
his liberality by the needs of the
unfortunate. It was not alone to persons of
distinction that he kept open house.
He welcomed also the poorest
people. The unexpected move
ments of the armies, and the
inseparable disorders, obliged entire
villages many times to seek in the
towns a security not obtainable in
the country. The Archbishop's
palace was the sanctuary of all the
unfortunates who were unable to
find a shelter elsewhere. Neither
the extent of their misery nor their
infectious maladies were sufficient
to arrest the zeal of this prelate.
He walked amidst them like a good
father. The sighs he let fall tes
tified how much his heart was
affected by compassion. His pres
ence and words appeared to calm
their misfortunes.
The veneration which the people
had for him was not limited to the
French armies alone. It was none

192 History of the
the less great among the enemy's
troops. The Duke of Marlborough,
Prince Eugene, and the Duke of
Ormond anticipated his wishes by
every kind of politeness. They
sent detachments to protect his
fields and crops. They also
escorted and removed his grain to
Cambray, fearing it might be
forcibly carried away by the
foragers of their army. Then
when they learned of his intention
to take a journey within his diocese,
they sent word that he had no need
for a French escort, as they them
selves would form one. Even the
huzzars of the imperial troops
rendered him this service, so much
has true virtue a power over all
minds. Every European nation had an
equal regard for him. It was only
in his own country that he
was calumniated and maltreated.
Strangers he also loved and
cherished. He received them with
a cordiality and a particular
distinction whatever was the nature
of their religion. He took pleasure

Life of Fdnelon. 193
in conversing with them concerning
the manners, laws and government,
and the great men of their country.
He never made them aware of their
omissions in the most delicate of
French customs. On the contrary,
he often said : " Politeness belongs
to all nations. The styles of
speech are different, but then their
nature is different."
No one loved his country more
than he did. Yet none were able
to assert that, in seeking its inter
ests, he violated the .rights of
humanity, or that he exalted himself
in degrading the merits of others.
" I love my family better than
myself," he said ; "I love my
country better than my family ; but,
again, I love the human race far
more than my country."
During the last years of the war
he kept an open table for all officers,
foreigners as well as French, who
came to Cambray seeking the
charms of his conversation.
The obligations of hospitality
and its decorum caused him great
labour, because of the multitude of
13

194 History of the
individuals who came to see him,
and of the multiplicity of his other
engagements. He was enabled to
provide everything with ease, po
liteness, and perfect tranquillity.
After the death of his highness
the Dauphin, son of the King, the
French nobility, in passing through
Cambray to join the army, redoubled
their attentions towards the Arch
bishop. The esteem they had for
his personal qualities was augmented
by the desire to give pleasure to
the Due de Bourgogne, whose
opinions they were aware of con
cerning that prelate. Fdnelon
always lived in the same simplicity
and total disengagement. His
mind, elevated above all human
grandeur, never suffered itself to be
misled. He never made any other
use of the reputation men had
stamped him with than to seek their
welfare. His piety had something so ami
able, and at the same time so noble,
that it attracted the respect of the
most unbelieving, and appeared to
suspend their doubts. He spoke,

Life of Fdnelon. 195
he joked, and amused through love ;
and seasoned all his discourses with
courtesy and vivid traits, which
inspired the love of virtue. It
thus took all kinds of shapes,
without ever losing its essential
form. Nothing was more admirable
than the facility with which he
allowed himself to be incommoded
to favour everyone, and to accom
modate himself in everything to
his daily obligations, which came
suddenly into being each moment,
so as to exercise his patience
and sweetness. Ordinary virtue is
disconcerted, vexed and discouraged
when it is unable to follow its rules
and methods. The virtue of the
Archbishop of Cambray was noble,
free, regular in all its proceedings,
without being, however, the slave
either of time, or of place. Having
been turned aside one day from
a work he had a longing to
accomplish, to fulfil the obligations
of good faith and politeness towards
one of his friends who was leaving
Cambray, on his making some
excuses for his interruption, he

196 History of the
replied : " Do not be embarrassed ;
you do me more good in inconveni
encing me, than I should have had
in working."
Although he was of a very lively
and sensitive nature, yet, in the
midst of his greatest crosses and
disgraces, through all the period of
his dispute with the three prelates,
resigned to God and at leisure with
himself, he was tranquil, unre
strained, equable in temperament,
always affable, and sufficiently
attentive to others, as if he had not
any cause for anxiety.
Politeness, which is frequently
only a vain appearance to render
ourselves the idol of men, and
to make them serve our interests,
was in him the effect of a self-
forgetfulness, so as to bestow
everything on others, for the
purpose of making them good, — a
sacrifice of his own desires to
anticipate theirs, to calm, and to
moderate their passions ; a species
of honour he rendered to the images
of the Divinity. It was after this
manner I have seen him transform

Life of Fdnelon. 197
the most ordinary virtues into
those Divine. 1
He had the art of putting himself
on a level with all minds ; of never
showing more understanding than
those with whom he conversed ; of
imparting the same to others, in
making his own mind disappear
a propos, in order to show their
ideas, and to produce what good
there was in them. I have known
him, in the space of a single journey,
ascend and descend to all ranks ;
converse with the educated and
speak their language, always pre
serving the Episcopal dignity,
afterwards speaking with the simple
and uneducated, like a good father
instructing his children. This
sudden passage, from one extreme
to the other, was undergone without
affectation and effort, as if the mind,
by its large expanse, had bridged
all distances.
To this sublime spirit the Arch
bishop joined a simplicity of heart
infinitely superior to his genius.
There are few men who can bear a
near inspection. There is a certain

198 History of the
point of view from which it is
necessary to regard them. Their
good qualities, at a distance, will
disappear. Nearer hand their faults
are increased. It is simplicity
alone which always shines equally
lovely, and transforms even weak
nesses into virtues. The mingling
of the perfect and the imperfect,
which one observes in a soul
all naked, which has neither
twisting, subterfuge, nor reservation,
is a contrast that heightens its
beauty and much surpasses a light
without shadows. The Archbishop
possessed this guilelessness in an
eminent degree. In the following
description he paints himself thus,
without design. Here are his
words: — "Simplicity is the integrity
of a soul which cuts off all use
less return upon itself and its
actions. This virtue is different
from sincerity, but surpasses it.
We see many people who are
sincere, without being simple.
They say nothing what they do not
deem to be true. They only
desire to pass for what they are.

Life of Fdnelon. 199
But they constantly dread passing
for what they are not. They are
always looking at the mirror to
compose and study themselves, to
arrange their virtues with symmetry,
to examine all their words and
thoughts, through fear of saying too
much or too little. They are not
at their ease with others, and others
are not at ease with them. We
never find anything there graceful,
naught of freedom, nothing is
natural. " An individual full of faults but
who does not appear to conceal
any, who never seeks to dazzle,
who affects neither genius, nor
virtue, nor genteel deportment,
who neither thinks more of himself
than of others, who appears to
have lost the ego, of which one
is so jealous, who is a stranger with
regard to himself, is an individual
infinitely more pleasing in spite of
his faults. On the other hand,
a person of talents, acquired virtues,
and exterior graces, if he be too
precise, if he appears always
regardful of himself, if he affects

200 History of the
the best things, is a disgusting and
tiresome individual, against whom
each of us revolts. Behold the
taste of God and of men."
However agreeable the society
of the Archbishop of Cambray
was in public, it was infinitely
more so in private with his friends.
Divine love was in him an in
exhaustible source of the purest,
tenderest, and most generous friend
ship. I cannot more worthily
describe the sentiments of his
heart, than through a letter to his
pupil the Due de Bourgogne.
" Divine friendship is not always
affectionate and sensible," he wrote
to that Prince, '* but it is true,
intimate, faithful, constant and
efficacious. 1 1 has, too, its affections
and transports. A soul, whose
being belongs to God, becomes
no more dried up and reserved
through false delicacy and by
fantastical inequalities of self-love.
Love would make us bear every
thing, suffer all, hope everything
for our friend. Love surmounts
all difficulties. The foundation of

Life of Fdnelon. 201
the heart shows itself upon the
senses. It waits upon the good
of others, and accounts nothing its
own. It consoles, it expects, it
adapts itself, becoming little with
the little, and elevates itself with the
great. It weeps with those who
weep, and rejoices with those who
rejoice. It becomes all things to
all men, not by a forced appearance
and a dry demonstration, but
through the abundance of the heart,
in which Divine love becomes
a living source for all the tenderest,
most proportioned, and the strong
est sentiments. Nothing is so
dry, hard, cold, and reserved as a
heart loving only itself in all things.
Nothing either is so tender, open,
lively, sweet, amiable and lovely as
a heart possessed and animated by
Divine Love."
The Archbishop of Cambray
treated his friends with an infinite
delicacy ; he was aware of their
faults, and bore them with good
nature. He waited for the proper
moment of speaking, laid hold of
it when it came, and knew how to

202 History of the
give his advice in such a manner
that the most disagreeable truths
never displeased them.
"It is frequently," he said,
" through imperfection that we find
fault with the imperfect. It is a
subtle and penetrating self-love
which forgives nothing to the self-
love in others. The passions of
others appear infinitely ridiculous
and unsupportable to all those who
are given over to the same. The
love of God is full of consideration,
of help, of preservatives, of conde
scensions. It never does two things
at a time. The less one loves
himself, the more we accommodate
ourselves to the imperfections of
others for their patient cure. One
cannot make any incision without
showing compassion towards the
suffering. One does not hazard an
operation unless the nature shows
itself, by which it is prepared.
Some people will wait entire years
for the purpose of giving salutary
advice." Nothing is more beautiful than
what he has said thereupon, through

Life of Fdnelon. 203
Socrates to Timon the misanthrope,
in his Dialogues of the Dead.
" Imperfect virtue succumbs in the
support of the imperfections of
others. Such a one loves himself
too much always to bear with what
is contrary to his own taste and
maxims. Self-love does not wish
to be more contradicted by vice
than by virtue. Imperfect virtue
is gloomy, critical, harsh, severe
and implacable. True virtue is
always equable, pleasant, affable and
compassionate. It lays hold of
everything by it, and only thinks of
doing good. Behold the principle
of compassionate virtue for others
when disengaged from self, which
is the true bond of society."
This gentleness never hindered
the Archbishop from speaking the
truth to his friends who had the
virtue to listen. Here is a trait
equally marking this firmness and
delicate knowledge of the human
heart. " The thing you have nourished
in your heart since infancy is an
unbridled self-love, disguised under

204 History of the
the appearance of elegance and an
illustrious generosity. You are
always desirous to forget yourself in
order to benefit others, but this
depreciation tends to make you the
idol of yourself, and the idol of
all those for whose sake you seem
to forget yourself. Forgetfulness
of one's self is so great that even
self-love wishes to imitate it, and
cannot find a like glory to that
which it seeks. In effect, what is
there sweeter and more flattering
to a delicate and sensitive self-love
than to see itself applauded, until it
passes no longer for being a self-
love ? "
In speaking with such freedom to
his friends, the Archbishop desired
that they should speak to him in a
similar fashion. Here is how he
wrote to them : — " I ask you, more
than ever, never to be sparing of
my faults. When you believe you
have seen any I have not been able
to perceive, that will be no great
misfortune. If you offend me with
your advice, this sensibility will
show me that you have found life.

Life of Fdnelon. 205
Thus you shall always beget my
welfare in instructing me in my
failings, and in accustoming me to
be reprimanded. I own it must be
proportionately more lowering to
me than another, as I am more
elevated through my position. I
have need of this simplicity, and I
trust it will augment our union at a
distance, without a change."
Neither absence nor distance
diminished the friendship of the
Archbishop. During all his exile
he keenly felt the separation from
his friends. But he realised their
presence by the tenderness of a
heart which unites itself to what it
loves in the Divine immensity.
Here is how he wrote to them.
" Let us all reside in our unique
centre, where we unceasingly meet
and are all one and the same thing.
We are quite near each other
although unseen ; unlike others, who
seeing each other at all hours are
estranged in the same room. God
reunites all, and annihilates the
greatest distances, out of regard to
the hearts reunited in Him. O !

206 History of the
he is a miser who has two, three,
four. He only needs one. I only
desire to know unity. All enumer
ating beyond that comes, on the
other hand, from division. Fi !
those friends ? They are many,
and in consequence there is little
love between them. The ego loves
itself too much to be able to love
him and her. Let us therefore all
be united by being nothing but in
one centre, where all are one
without distinction. Let this be
our rendezvous and our common
dwelling. It is in this indivisible
point that China and Canada join
themselves. I feel vividly the
privation of not seeing you. But
it must be borne in peace, according
as it is pleasing to God, and as far
as death, if He see fit."
Everything of his was common
to his friends. He was one with
those who had the same mind and
heart. He frequently said : " O !
that would be splendid, to have all
things in common, and that each
should no more regard his own
lights and virtues, his joys and

Life of Fdnelon. 207
riches as his particular good. It is
thus that the saints in heaven have
all things in God without having
anything of their own. It is an
infinite and common good, wherein
the flux and reflux make their
satisfaction. Each receives accord
ing to his measure. They send all
back again. God only is all things
in all, and there is nothing to any of
them in particular. They are all
left destitute in this possession
of the Infinite. Their beatitude
appears in their poverty. The one
and the other is perfect. If friends
entered here into this lowly poverty
of spirit, with this community of
goods, temporal and spiritual, they
would no more listen to these cold
words of thine and of mine. We
would all become poor and rich
in unity."
No individual was more surren
dered to the Divine will than the
Archbishop of Cambray, and yet
none was more sensible to the
loss of his friends. Austere virtue
prides itself in the insensibility
of a hard nature, but true virtue

208 History of the
regulates the passions without
destroying them. The Archbishop
sincerely mourned the death of
his friends. He did not conceal
his tears, he never sought to restrain
them by a philosophic strength.
It was truly beautiful to see this
great man become a child by
the tenderness of friendship. But
in the midst of his sorrows he
preserved his tranquillity, and con
soled those who were, like himself,
mourning the death of a virtuous
friend. Here is the way he wrote
or spoke to them : —
" We are united in heart to
him whom we regret. He is not
banished from us in going into the
invisible. He sees us, he loves
us, he is touched at our miseries.
Happily arrived at the haven, he
prays for us who are still exposed
to shipwreck. He says to us with
a secret voice, ' Hasten to rejoin
me.' Pure spirits see, hearken to,
and always love their true friends
in our common Centre.1 Their
friendship is as immortal as its
"NoteZ.

Life of Fdnelon. 209
Source. Unbelievers only love
themselves, otherwise they would
become frantic at losing their friends
for ever. But a holy friendship
changes the visible society into one
of intercourse by pure faith. It
weeps, but in weeping it consoles
itself with the hope of rejoining its
friends in the country of truth, and
in the bosom of Love itself." a
Here is a thought of another
kind, but where the same tender
sentiment reigns. He says the
same things in a different language,
according to the taste of those to
whom he spoke.
"True friends are our greatest
pleasure and our greatest grief.
One is tempted to desire that all
good friends had understanding
enough to die the same day. Those
who loved no one would then see
all the human race buried, with dry
eyes and contented hearts. These
are not worthy to live. Strong
friendship costs a heavy price ;
but those who have this sensibility
"Letter written to the Duchess de Chevreuse on
the occasion of her husband's death. (D.C.)
14

210 History of the
seriously are not ashamed to possess
it. They would rather suffer than
be callous." 1
Such was the Archbishop with
his friends. The qualities of his
heart even surpassed those of his
mind, however great they were.
Towards the year 1709, a young
Prince passed some time with him.
He had several conferences with
this Prince, who regarded him"
with veneration and docility.2 He
recommended him, above all things,
never to force his subjects to
change their religion. "No human
power," he said, "is able to force
the impenetrable intrenchments of
the human heart. Force can
never persuade men ; it only makes
hypocrites. When Kings them
selves interfere with religion, in
place of protecting it, they only
fetter it with chains. Accord,
then, civil toleration to all ; not in
approving everything as if you
were indifferent, but in bearing
1 This letter was written on the occasion of the
death of his intimate friend the Due de Beauvilliers.
(D. C.) "Note A". s Note A2.

Life of Fdnelon. 211
patiently all that God permits, and
in endeavouring to reclaim men by
gentle persuasion." x
With regard to politics, he held
the same language that Mentor
holds in Tdldmaque. He made
him perceive the advantages of
being able to give the best form
of Government to his country, and
of the respect he should have for
his council. " That tribunal," said
he, "can do nothing without you.
You are not powerful enough.
You can do nothing without it.
Are you not happy to be free to
do all the good you desire, and
to have your hands tied when you
would do evil ? Every wise Prince
must only desire to be the
executor of the laws, and to have
a supreme council which will
moderate his authority. Paternal
authority is the first model of
Governments. Every good parent
desires to act in concert with the
wisest and most experienced of
his children."
It was thus that the Archbishop
1 See p. 20 ; also Note A 3.

212 History of the
of Cambray sought the good of
other people in regarding himself
as a citizen of the universe. I
wish to give here a general idea
of his principles upon politics,
expanded in Tdldmaque, and in his
Dialogues of the Dead, on which
he frequently conversed with this
young Prince, during his sojourn at
Cambray. All nations on the earth are only
different families of the one same
republic in which God is the
common Father. The n^^s^and
universal law, according to iliich
He desires each /family tolbe
governed, is to, prefer the public
weal to a particuiarv interest.
If men folio wedl-Jthis naturaljlaw,
each would becbrq^byjnotve and
friendship, what is only now
arrived at through interest or
through fear. But the passions
blind, corrupt and hinder our
knowledge and love of this great
law. It is necessary to explain
and to execute it through civil laws,
and in consequence to establish a
supreme authority which will be

Life of Fdnelon. 213
the judge without appeal, and to
which all will be able to have
recourse as to the source of political
unity and civil order, otherwise
there would be as many arbitrary
Governments as there are heads.
The affection of the people, the
public welfare, the general interest
of society is, therefore, the immuta
ble and universal law of Sovereigns.
This law is antecedent to all con
tracts. It is founded upon nature
itself. It is the source and rule of
all other laws. He who governs
ought to be the most obedient to
this primitive law. He can do
everything through the people ; but
this law must be able to do every
thing for him. The common
Father of the great family only
entrusts His children to him to
render them happy. He only
desires that a single man should
contribute by his wisdom to the
felicity of so many men ; and not
that so many men, through their
misery, flatter the pride of one. It
is not for himself God made him
King. He is only to be the

214 History of the
guardian of the people; and he is
otherwise only worthy of royalty as
far as he forgets himself for the
public welfare.
The tyrannic despotism of Sover
eigns is an outrage upon the rights
of human brotherhood. It reverses
the great law of nature, of which
they are only the guardians. The
despotism of the multitude is a
foolish and arrogant power which
forces itself against itself. A
people, corrupted through excessive
liberty, is the most insupportable of
all tyrants. The wisdom of every
Government consists in finding the
medium between these two frightful
extremes, in a moderate liberty by
the sole authority of the laws. But
blinded men, enemies of themselves,
never limit themselves to this just
medium. The condition of human nature
is melancholy. Sovereigns, jealous
of their authority, always desire to
enlarge their power. Impulsive
people, to preserve their liberty,
always desire to increase it. It is
far better, however, to suffer for

Life of Fdnelon. 2 1 5
the sake of order the inevitable
evils in all conditions, even the
most inveterate, that we may aid
the visible judge of authority in
protecting him unceasingly from
the fury of the multitude, who
act without method and without
law. When the supreme authority
is, therefore, once established by
fundamental laws, in one, in a few,
or in many, it is necessary to toler
ate errors if they cannot be remedied
by aims compatible with order.
Every Government is necessarily
imperfect, seeing supreme authority
can only be confided to men.
And all kinds of Government are
good when those who govern follow
the great law of the public welfare.
In theory, certain forms appear
better than others ; but in practice,
the weakness, or the corruption of
men, subjects of the same passions,
expose all states to inconveniences
very nearly equally. Two or three
men usually lead away the monarch
or the senate.
One does not find then the wel
fare of human society in changing

216 History of the
and overthrowing forms already
established, but in inspiring Sov
ereigns with the knowledge that the
security of their empire depends on
the happiness of their subjects, and
that the lasting happiness of the
people depends on their subordin
ation. Liberty without order is
a libertinism enticing despotism.
Order without liberty is a bondage
which loses itself in anarchy.
On the one side we must teach
Princes that unlimited authority is
a frenzy, ruinous to their proper
authority. When Sovereigns accus
tom themselves to know no other
laws than their despotic desires,
they sap the foundations of their
power ; then will come a sudden and
violent revolution, which, far from
moderating their excessive author
ity, demolishes it without resource.
On the other side, we must show
to the people that as Sovereigns are
exposed to hatred, to jealousy, to
involuntary blunders which have
dreadful but unforeseen conse
quences, they must excuse and pity
Kings. Men are unfortunate in

Life of Fdnelon. 2 1 7
having to be governed by a King
who is only a man like themselves.
For it would require gods to reform
men. But Kings are not less
unfortunate, being only men, — that is
to say, weak and imperfect, in having
to govern this innumerable multi
tude of corrupt and deceitful men.
It was by these maxims, equally
becoming to all conditions, that the
wise Mentor sought the welfare of
his country in preserving the subor
dination of all ranks, conciliating
the liberty of the people with
obedience to Sovereigns, seeking to
render all men together, good
citizens and faithful subjects, sub
missive without being slaves, and
free without being immoderate.
The pure love of Order is the
source of all his political, as well as
of all his divine virtues. The same
unity of principles reign in all his
opinions.1 The Prince appreciated these
maxims, and afterwards informed a
foreign nobleman,2 who had for
warded to him the new edition of
"Note A4. 2 Ramsay himself. (D.C.)

2 1 8 History of the
Tdldmaque, "all my glory will be
to rule according to the precepts of
Mentor." The Archbishop of Cambray had
always lived on intimate terms with
the Due de Bourgogne, his pupil.
This young Prince had remained
some years after the exile of that
prelate without being able to write
to him. In the end he found
opportunity. Here is what he
wrote to him at the age of nineteen :
"Versailles, 22nd Dec, 1701.
"At last, my dear Archbishop,
I have found an occasion of
breaking the silence I have kept
during four years. I have endured
many evils since that time ; but
one of the greatest has been that
I have been unable to testify what
I felt for you during that period,
and how much my friendship was
enhanced by your misfortunes
instead of being decreased. I
think with great pleasure of the
time when I will see you again,
but I fear that period is still far
removed. I am deeply shocked

Life of Fdnelon. 219
at what has been done on your
account, but we must submit to the
Divine will, and believe that what
has happened is for our good." a
Since then, this young Prince
frequently interchanged letters with
the Archbishop. Here is the style
in which the Archbishop wrote to
him : —
" Child of St. Louis, imitate your
father, become like him, mild,
humane, accessible, affable, com
passionate and liberal. Do not
let your high rank ever prevent
you from condescending with kind
ness to the lowliest, that you may
meet them there ; for this kindness
will never weaken your authority,
nor lessen their respect. Unceas
ingly study men. Learn to be
a servant, so as to devote yourself
to them. Go and bring merit
from the uttermost parts of
the earth. Ordinarily it dwells
modest and remote. Virtue never
pricks the soul. It has neither
ardour nor avidity. It passes itself
" This is only about one-sixth of the original letter.
— See Correspondence, torn. i,p. 116. (D. C.)

220 History of the
by. Never be led away by
flattering and insinuating minds.
Let it be known you love neither
the base nor flatterers. Show
confidence to those who have the
courage to contradict you with
respect, who love your reputation
more than your favour.
" It is time you should show
to the world a maturity and vigour
of mind proportionate to the
present necessities. St. Louis, at
your age, was already the delight
of the good, and the terror of
the wicked. Abandon, then, all
those amusements for which you
have passed the age. See that
you have the thoughts and senti
ments of a Prince. It is necessary
that the good should love you, that
the wicked should fear you, and
that all should esteem you. Make
haste to correct your own faults
that it may aid you profitably in
correcting others.
" Piety should neither be weak,
nor sorrowful, nor a constraint. It
enlarges the heart. It is unpre
tending and amiable. It makes

Life of Fdnelon. 221
itself all in all to gain all. The
kingdom of God does not consist in
a scrupulous observation of little
formalities. It consists in each
showing the virtues befitting his
condition. A great Prince does
not desire to serve God in the
same fashion as a hermit, or as an
ordinary private individual. St.
Louis worked out his salvation as a
great King. He was intrepid in
war, decisive in council, superior
to others through the nobleness of
his opinions, without either hauteur,
presumption or stubbornness. In
everything he followed the truest
interests of the nation, of which he
was as much the father as the King.
In the principal affairs he saw to
everything with his own eyes. He
was studious, heedful, moderate,
upright and firm in his negotiations :
so wise that foreigners resorted to
him as well as his own subjects.
Never was there a wiser Prince for
governing the people and rendering
them together good and happy.
He loved those who deserved his
love tenderly and trustfully, yet he

222 History of the
was firm in correcting those whom
he esteemed the most. He was
noble and magnanimous according
to the customs of the time, but with
out falsity and luxuriousness. His
expense, which was great, was
regulated with such order that it
never hindered him from redeeming
his word to every one in his
kingdom. " You, who are his heir, follow his
virtues before wearing the crown.
Appeal to him in your needs with
confidence. Remember that his
blood flows in your veins, and that
the same spirit of faith ought to be
the mainspring of your heart. He
beholds you from the height of
heaven where he prays for you,
and where he wishes you to reign
some day, through God, with him.
Unite your heart to his. Maintain,
my son, these precepts for your
country." x
After the death of this Prince, his
cabinet was found full of such
"This letter differs in some respects from that
afterwards published. See Finelon Correspondence,
ed. Le Clerc, torn, i, p. 12, (D. C.)

Life of Fdnelon. 223
letters. Madame de Maintenon
read them all to the King. Here is
a copy of the letter she wrote
on that occasion to the Due de
Beauvilliers : —
" I desired to send back to you
everything which was found in the
cabinet of the Dauphin belonging
to the Archbishop of Cambray, but
the King chose to burn them him
self. I acknowledge to you that I
regret this loss exceedingly. None
can ever be written either so beauti
ful or so good. If the Prince, whom
we mourn, had some defects, it was
not through his having received too
much gentle advice, or had been
flattered too much. One can truly
say that those who do right shall
never be put to confusion."
This young Prince died in 171 2.
The Archbishop of Cambray re
ceived the news of his death with
most poignant sorrow and the deep
est despair. While he mourned as
an afflicted father, he yet said : " If
I had simply to stir, to remove a
straw to make the Prince alive,
contrary to the Divine will, I

224 History of the
would not do it. My fetters are
destroyed." It would argue an ignorance of
human nature to imagine that any
one, even of the purest virtue,
could but be attached to a Prince
fashioned by his hands, in which
the mind, wisdom, and talents for
ruling and peaceful dispositions
were made the hope of a nation
oppressed for a long time by bloody
wars. The death of such a Prince com
pleted the Archbishop's separation
from all parties, and made him pass
to a diviner life, where he only
aspired to immortality. He sur
vived his august pupil three years,
and saw die before him the Due
de Beauvilliers1 and the Due de
Chdvreuse,2 his most intimate
friends and the confidants of his
heart. Never afterwards did he
attach himself to earthly things.
The submission, meekness, sil
ence, and inviolable attachment he
had always evinced for the King
and the Church, during the whole
1 Died 31st Aug., 1714. 2 Died 5th Nov., 1712.

Life of Fdnelon> 225
of his exile, had made, little by
little, such an impression on his
majesty's mind that he entirely
recovered from his prejudices
against him. He consulted him
on several occasions, and at last
formed the resolution of recalling
him to court, but Providence
ordained otherwise.
In the beginning of the year
1 71 5, he fell ill of an inflammation
of the lungs, which occasioned
continual fever. This lasted for six
and a half days, accompanied by
severe pain. During this period
he gave evidence of the patience
and sweetness of a strong and true
Christian. Nothing was observed
in him resembling either the timid
devotion that apprehends eternal
torment, or the philosophic strength
which abandons itself to destiny
without either hope or fear. He
showed, until his latest breath, the
peacefulness of a soul which resigns
itself to Infinite Love. In his latest
moments, in the midst of great an
guish, he only uttered these words :
" Thy will, not mine, be done ! "
15

226 History of the
On the fifth day of his illness,
feeling himself growing weaker, he
dictated the following letter for the
confessor of the King :
"Cambray, 6th Jan., 1715.
" I have just received Extreme
Unction. It is in this condition,
my reverend Father, that in pre
paring myself to appear before God,
I earnestly supplicate you to
present to the King my real
opinions. " I have ever had a docility to
the Church, and an abhorrence
of innovations. I received the
condemnation of my book with the
most absolute simplicity. There
has never been a single moment in
my life, wherein I have not had the
liveliest gratitude, the sincerest zeal,
and the most inviolable attachment
for the person of the King.
" I take the liberty of asking from
his majesty two favours, which have
no concern with me or mine. The
first is that the King will have the
kindness to appoint a pious, good,
and conscientious successor to me,

Life of Fdnelon. 227
firm against Jansenism, which is
very much in vogue in this
quarter. The other favour is that
he would kindly perfect with my
successor that which concerns my
seminary and its union with the
gentlemen of St. Sulpice. I am
indebted to his majesty for the
assistance I received from them.
Nothing can be more apostolic or
more venerable.
" I wish, for his majesty, a long
life, of which the church as well as
the state has infinite need. If I be
allowed to go before God I will
often ask Him for this favour."
Thus the Archbishop died,
reuniting by a single trait all the
sentiments of his heart and the
virtues of his life ; a great disinter
estedness for his relations, a perfect
respect for his King, an absolute
submission to the Church, and a
fatherly tenderness for his flock.
This last action of his life is a
portrait of the whole of it.
After his death there was found
neither money nor debts. He died
poor, as he had lived poor. I give

228 History of the
here the first part of his will, for the
purpose of showing the unity and
continuity of his sentiments up to
the latest moment of his life.
"In the name of the Father,
the Son, and the Holy
Ghost.
"Although I am at present in
my ordinary state of health^ I i think
it right to make preparation for
death. It is with this aim that I
write, and make with my own hand,
this present will, revoking and
annulling by this every other former
one. " I declare that I will die in
the arms of the Catholic, Apostolic
and Roman Church, my mother.
God who sees the heart and will be
my judge, knows there never has
been a moment in my life wherein
I have not retained a submission
and a docility for her like a little
child, and that I have never believed
any of the errors imputed to me.
When I wrote the book entitled
An Exposition of the Maxims of
the Saints, I simply thought to

Life of Fdnelon. 229
separate the true experience of the
Saints, approved by the whole
Church, from the illusions of the
false Mystics, in order to justify the
one and reject the other. I only
composed this work on the advice
of individuals most opposed to the
illusion, and it was only printed
after they had examined it. As
this work was printed at Paris
during my absence, they there
inserted the words involuntary
trouble with reference to Jesus
Christ, which was not in the b.ody
of my original text (as certain
eye-witnesses of the greatest merit
have certified), and which had
been put in the margin only, to
mark a small addition they advised
me to make there in that place for
greater precautions.1 Moreover, it
seemed to me, after being advised
by the examiners, that the correc
tions inculcated in every page of
that little book, removed, with
evidence, all the false and dangerous
sense. It was by following these
corrections that I desired to sustain
"See p. 71.

230 History of the
and justify that work which I had
been given liberty to make, but I
never wished to favour any of the
errors in question, or to flatter any
person whom I knew had been
prejudiced. Since Pope Innocent
XII. condemned that work, I have
adhered to his judgment without
reservation, from the bottom of my
heart, as I promised to do from the
first. From the moment of that
condemnation I have never uttered
a single word to justify the book.
I have never given a thought to
those who have impugned me, while
I have prayed with sincere zeal for
them, to dwell united to them in
brotherly love.
" I submit to the Church universal
and to the Apostolic tribunal all
my writings, and I here condemn
everything which it is possible
may have escaped me, or passed
the true limits, but no work ought
to be attributed to me, which may
hereafter be printed under my
name. I only recognise those
issued by myself, and acknowledged
by me during my life. It is

Life of Fdnelon. 231
possible that there may be others,
unknown to me, and attributed
to me without foundation, or have
been altered by copyists. It is to
please God alone that I take these
precautions, and not through a vain
delicacy for my name. I only
deem it my duty, as a Bishop, to
avoid the imputation of any error
against the faith, or of any
suspected work."

PHILOSOPHIC DISCOURSE
CONCERNING
THE LOVE OF GOD.

FIRST PART.
Proofs of Pure Love.
WE have already observed that
the Church, in proscribing
the book of the Archbishop of
Cambray, did not desire to condemn
the acts of pure love. This disin
terested virtue had always been
that prelate's favourite doctrine, the
source of his disgraces and his
glory, the key to all his principles,
the great resort of his heart, and the
ddnouement of his whole life. To
give, a just idea of his mind upon
this doctrine, is to paint the essen
tial trait. This is what I desire to
do in showing to others (as far as I
can) by his own words.

234 History of the
PLAN OF THIS DISCOURSE.
His adversaries have said that he
only caught this doctrine from the
strength of his beautiful imagination,
and by no means in the ideas of
pure reason. It is this which
obliges me to go back again to first
principles. I will first gather the
proofs of this doctrine. I shall
afterwards show that it is the source
of all noble opinions. Finally, I
will demonstrate that it has been
the opinion of all great philosophers.
In the second part will be found
replies to all objections.
FIRST PROOF BY THE IDEA OF GOD.
I. The Sovereign Being must be
known to be loved for Himself.
His love for Himself is not a blind
movement, but an enlightened com
plaisance founded upon the view of
His perfection. He loves all His
creatures unequally, according as
they resemble Him, more or less.
The perfection of God is the prim
itive rule of His love for Himself,
and for all other beings. Now the

Life of Fdnelon. 235
most perfect rule for finite minds is,
without doubt, that of the Infinite
mind. To love God for Himself,
and all things for Him, is in conse
quence the universal law of all
intelligences. God does not act
here as an arbitrary legislator, who
should have been able to give
another law to His creatures. It is
a necessary, immutable and eternal
law that flows from His nature, and
from which .He will neither be able
to excuse Himself nor any rational
being. BY THE NATURE OF MAN.
II. Such is the greatness of
God, that He has no need to create
anything for Himself. He has
need of nothing, but He desires
all, because all is due to Him.
When He created, He only made
outward representations of that
which was inwardly. Reasonable
beings are His living images. He
does not create an intelligence
which hates itself, because every
intelligence is good, according as

236 History of the
it resembles its original. But
the creature in loving himself must
love himself only as far as he is
lovely. He is, and only is lovely,
as far as God communicates to
him unceasingly His being and
His perfection. He must only
love himself by resemblance to
Him. Self-love, well regulated, is
only a sequel and not the source of
our love for God. The love of
the Infinitely Great, for whom we
are made, must be the reason of
our love for the infinitely little,
for which we were not created.
Behold the fundamental law of our
creation. The creature cannot,
without setting up for himself a
false divinity, do anything, think
anything, desire anything for him
self and for his own glory.
BY THE IDEA OF ORDER.
III. Order is founded on the
different degrees of reality God has
given to each being. To love
agreeably to precept, that is to love
each creature according to the rank

Life of Fdnelon. 237
which it holds in that infinite scale
of beings who have descended by
degrees since the Supreme Being
to the least of created ones. As in
inanimate things the greatness of
strength makes the greatness of
movement, the same with intelligent
beings ; the greatness of reality,
or of perfection, must give import
ance to love. Without this Order,
the harmony of celestial minds
will be unceasingly agitated. All
have not the same degree of
beatitude, because all have not an
equal capacity. However, they
are not jealous, the one of the
other. They have discovered the
beauty of that Order we have not
seen. They cling unceasingly to
all they find in it, and this
acquiescence makes their love.
BY THE NATURE OF LOVE.
IV. Love is the movement of the
soul by which it tends, unites and
attaches itself to those objects
it perceives. We can conceive an
affection to an object for the perfec-

238 History of the
tion we have discovered, or for the
pleasure of which it is the cause.
It is the excellency of the object
that makes the perfection of our
love. The more perfect the object,
the more our love is imperfect, if
we are inclined towards it by an
unworthy motive. If I only love
God for the sole reason that He
gives me pleasure, it is not He
whom I love but myself. I keep
near Him, I attach myself to Him
it is true, but I only possess or
attach myself there for myself.
True love, on the contrary, is a
justice we render to the excellency
of what we love. Its nature is a
kind of faith that forgets itself,
sacrificing itself for the object loved,
wishing only what it desires, and
finding our happiness in it alone.
All the rest is only an accident
which does not enter into the
essence of love.
PROOF DRAWN FROM FEELING.
V. In speaking of profane love,
imagination imitates those traits of

Life of Fdnelon. 239
the Sovereign reason.1 It applies
them badly, but they are found at
the root of our being. In all
paintings, wherein are depicted the
noble passions, we only take an
interest in those heroes who expose
themselves to peril, for those whom
they love. It is this rapture and
forgetfulness of self that makes
the entire beauty and elevation of
human feelings.
I confess that this rapture is
never real for the creature. It
neither can elevate ourselves above
ourselves, or give us the prerogative
of attaching ourselves to it. We
never love it out of God, except to
yield to ways subtle and gross ;
God alone can draw us out of
ourselves by showing Himself
infinitely lovely, and impressing us
with His love. That which is
romantic, wrongful, impossible to
respect in the creature, is real,
just, and the right of the Sov
ereign Being.
1 Human and heroic love is a reflection of Divine
love.

240 History of the
EFFEMINATE SELF-LOVE TAKES THE
APPEARANCES OF PURE LOVE.
VI. Self-love itself renders hom
age to this disinterested virtue by
the cunningness with which it
grasps the appearances of it. It so
finely disguises every motive of
self-love in friendships, only to be
spared the shame of" appearing to
seek it in others. Nothing is so
odious as a heart always occupied
with self. Nothing flatters us
more than certain generous actions
wherewith we persuade ourselves,
and the world, that we have done
the good for the love of the good,
without seeking anything by it.
So much is it true that man, who
does not exist by himself, is not
made for himself. His glory and
perfection is to come out of him
self, to dwell simply in the love of
Infinite Beauty.
IT IS THE SOURCE OF ALL CIVIL
VIRTUES.
VII. Pure love inspires us not
only with high and noble sentiments

Life of Fdnelon. 241
for God ; it is the source also of all
our beautiful human ideas. It is
by this principle that one regards
himself more or less as an indepen7
dent being, created for himself, yet
looks upon the universe as a large
family, wherein all nations are only
different branches, and all men
parents, brothers and children of
one common Father, who wishes us
to prefer the general good of His
family to our particular interest.
IT RESTORES AMIABILITY TO SOCIETY.
VIII. It is by this pure love
that we transform the commonest
virtues into those Divine. We
become amiable, polite, disinterested,
— not for the purpose of pleasing
men, to dazzle or flatter them, but
to render them happy, to succour
and live at peace with them, even
with those we cannot esteem.
This sweet and pleasing philan
thropy is never the dupe, either of
the wicked, or of the ungrateful,
because it asks nothing from them,
being content with doing good for
16

242 History of the
the sole love of the good, without
hope of recompense.

IT IS THE CAUSE OF PERFECT
FRIENDSHIPS.
IX. Pure love is the source of
perfect friendships. " Self-love, im
patient, gloomy, effeminate, and
jealous, full of its needs, and void
of merit, ever distrusts itself and the
faith of others. It grows tired and
disgusted with itself, and sees well
enough the end of what it believes
the greatest. It always desires the
perfect, and never finds it. It is
angry with itself; it changes, and
cannot find rest in anything. The
love of God consists in loving his
friends without reference to their
faith ; loving them patiently, with
their faults, without flattering them.
Everything to him is good, provided
he loves what God has made, and
tolerates the privations God has
permitted." The doctrine of the
Archbishop of Cambray brings feel
ing everywhere, both into religion
and into society.

Life of Fdnelon. 243
IT IS THE IDEA OF ALL PHILOSOPHERS.
X. The idea of pure love is a
divine impression given to man
from his origin. We see traces of
this among the Pagans themselves.
Look at this rapture of a Persian
philosopher. "O who will convey
to me the delights of Paradise ! It
is not Paradise I seek, but He who
has made it."1
We behold written upon the tomb
of a Persian king this inscription :
" Pious men ought not to love God
for the sake of the recompense."
Marcus Antoninus, the Emperor,
and all true disciples of Zeno are
full of this maxim, that we must
love virtue for its own sake. It is
true they believe happiness is found
in virtue ; but they do not say it is
requisite to love virtue for the
pleasure they there meet with. On
the contrary, they testify of the
most disinterested love by what
they term the Sincere. " The uni
verse," they say, "is only a city
whereof the gods and men are the
1 Travels of Chardin ; torn. V.

244 History of the
citizens, and for whom the Prince
and the common Father is the
Supreme God. The law, according
to which this family is governed,
is the sovereign Reason of this
common Father. The Sincere,
therefore, is none other than this
eternal law, and Virtue is the wor
ship and love of the Sincere for its
own perfection." x
Plato says : " The Beautiful does
not consist in any particular thing
either in heaven or in earth. But
the Beautiful is itself by itself,
always uniform to itself.2 The love
of this immutable Beauty deifies
man, transports and delights him.
Man is unable to be happy in
himself; and what there is most
Divine in him is to come out of him
through Love." The same philo
sopher remarks : " As the most
iniquitous among men are those
who commit evil and pass for being
just, and thus possess the honours
of virtue and the pleasures of vice ;
"Cicero, De Legibus. Riflex. Moral de VEmp.
Marc. Antoninus.
2 Dialogues de Criton, Plato.

Life of Fdnelon. 245
similarly, the perfectly just one will
be he who loves justice for itself,
and not for the honours and plea
sures accompanying it ; who passes
for being unjust in practising the
most scrupulous justice ; who does
not permit himself to be touched by
evil and infamies, and dwells im
movable in the love of justice, not
because it is pleasant but because
it is right."1
"What is Law ?" says Hierocles,
Governor of Alexandria. "What
is Order, to which it is conformed ? "
" Law is the intelligence which
has created all things. Order is
the rank which it has given to them
conformable to their dignity. Love,
conforming to this Order, is the
preserver of what is most perfect to
that which is least perfect, not only
in all species, but in all different
species." Finally, all Pagan legislators
and philosophers have held as a
fundamental principle of society, as
of morals, that it is necessary to
prefer the public welfare to one's
"Plato. Republic. Bk. 2.

246 History of the
self, nor through the hope of some
interest, but for the sole love of
beauty, of goodness, of justice and
of perfection. It is to this Order
they believe everything will be
brought back, and one's self as
much as all the rest. One cannot
act of himself to make himself
happy in conforming to this Order.
He must, on the contrary, task, die
to, and sacrifice himself, to account
himself nothing when the love of
Order demands it.
Vestiges of this sublime morality,
equally removed from superstition
and incredulity, are found in the
philosophers of all countries, in
all periods and religions, among
Indians, Chinese, Arabians and
Peruvians. The universal Reason
which enlightens all minds, teaches
the same immutable truths to those
who consult them with attention.
The question here is not what the
heathens have done, but what they
believed themselves obliged to say,
so as to speak worthily of virtue.
It is this philosophy, founded
upon the most sublime principles,

Life of Fenelon. 247
the source of the noblest sentiments,
respected by all the great men of
Paganism, that the Archbishop of
Cambray developed, purified and
pr>»C^i_ through the certain, uni
versal^ successive tradition of the
patriarchs, prophets and apostles,
martyrs, hermits and canonised
Contemplatives, saintly Fathers,
approved doctors and founders of
Orders. Once again it was this pure
theology that the Church never
wished to condemn in interdicting
the use of the false and hyperbolic
expressions of the Saints.
Penetrated by what was due
to the sovereign Perfection, these
godlike lovers appeared sometimes
to forget their being and their own
welfare. At that time they made
impossible suppositions. They held
opinions which were not reasonable.
They have said things which appear
extravagant to those who do not
know the transports of Love. They
have done mischief in turning these
raptures into principles, and of
justifying literally their untenable
expressions. But the pure Love

248 History of the
that occasions these transports is
founded upon the most sublime and
exact ideas.

SECOND PART.
Answers to OBfECTWNs.
Everything thus contributes to
prove the doctrine of pure Love.
We have, however, the task of
combating truths so simple by a
thousand objections whereof here
are the principal ones.
" Pleasure is the only resort of
the human heart. The knowledge
of the Beautiful only acts upon us by
the pleasure which it causes. The
foundation and essence of the will,
inasmuch as it is capable of love,
is the desire of being happy. The
love of happiness is invincible. One
cannot love God without loving
Him as the Beautifier. Therefore
love is always covetous ! "
Let us examine these axioms in
detail. I. There is a great difference
between the cause, through which

Life of Fdnelon. 249
God affects the will, and the reason
through which we yield to that move
ment. The heart can be seized,
stamped, and stirred up by pleasure,
but that does not diminish in any
wise the purity of its love, provided
that it only uses that agreeable
feeling as a help, and a monitor to
aid it to its true end, — to render
homage to His perfection and to
conform to Order. It is in this
sense that we can love through
pleasure without loving for pleasure.
There are thus two kinds of pleas
ures. The one is the chief point in
which the soul reposes itself, the
other is only that of a spring in the
door towards the object loved.
The first is a pleasure we can bring
back to us, which occupies us, that
makes us only love the objects for
themselves alone. It is thus that
grosser minds, without delicacy,
love anything flattering to their
passions. There is another pleas
ure that can bring us back to the
object loved, and that makes us
forget ourselves to occupy us solely
with what we love. It is thus that

250 History of the
noble minds love the good qualities
of their friends. Thus perfect
lovers delight themselves in sacri
ficing themselves for those they
love ; yet their love is not mercenary,
because they find an infinite pleas
ure in loving without relation to
them. II. I suppose that the knowledge
of the Beautiful, of Order, and of
the Perfect, are always accompanied
by pleasure, but this pleasure ought
not to be the reason of our love.
To love Order is to acquiesce in
all that we see there. Or, as the
pleasure that accompanies the
knowledge of the true is not the rea
son whereby we acquiesce therein,
similarly the pleasure accompanying
the view of Order is not the reason
whereby we agree to its justice.
In the one case and the other,
the pure act of the will is
independent of the sensation pro
duced in us, and founded upon
the reality we perceive out of us.
Every perception supposes two
things ; the object acting upon us,
and the sensation produced in us

Life of Fdnelon. 251
by its action. The object is a
reality outside of us, the sensation
is a part of our being.
What we call Beauty, Amiability
and Perfection in finite beings,
is frequently only a sensation in
us, and by no means a reality in
them. It is an agreeable impression
that the Author of nature produces
in our mind on opportunity, and
that we falsely refer to His depend
ants. It is not likewise with Go"d.
His Perfections are the realities
existing in Him, and consequently
we must discriminate the modalities
they produce in us. But that is
not loving the Divine realities, only
to love them for the sensations
they cause in us. Whatsoever
I love is properly the object of
my love. If I love the Divine
Perfections only for the agreeable
perceptions they produce in me, it
is not these realities I love, but the
modes of my own being. Pleasure
is my ultimate end, the Divine
Perfection is only a means of
arriving at it. Interested and
disinterested love is therefore

252 History of the
founded upon the essential dis
tinction that there is between the
transient modalities of our finite
substance, and the immutable
perfections of the infinite Essence.
To love the second for the first, is
to yield up the infinitely Great to
the infinitely little. The Creator
has His gifts. The eternal verities
are agreeable sensations to us.
What is, then, the means through
which God affects the will ? What
ever be the pleasure accompanying
the view of Order, that becomes
the reason, the rule, the end of
our love ; not that we own it to
be the pleasure we feel in us,
but the reality we know in the
object loved. This is all that is
needful to establish pure Love. It
appears to me, therefore, that
pleasure is not the sole resort of the
human heart, and that the view of
Order can act upon us by its own
strength. III. The foundation and essence
of the will, as far as it is capable of
loving, is its movement towards the
good in general. But the good in

Life of Fdnelon. 253
general includes two kinds. The
absolute good, and the relative good.
That which is good in itself, and
that which is good for us, — the
just and the agreeable. The one
measures itself by the degree of
reality that we perceive in the
objects, — the other by the degree
of pleasure we feel in us. It is
God alone who makes us see the
one, and feel the other ; because it
is He alone who can work upon
the mind. But He can act effica
ciously upon us as the source of our
lights, likewise as the cause of our
pleasures ; and in consequence, the
human will can have not only two
reasons of loving, but two resorts.
We can consent to the action of
God, who moves us, through regard
for His adorable Perfections, or by
our taste for agreeable sensations.
God can affect us through the
knowledge of the truth, as well as
by the feeling of pleasure. If that
were not so, the Sovereign Being
would be less powerful as the
eternal wisdom, than as the Author
of our bodily sensations. There is,

254 History of the
then, a vast difference between the
movement towards the good in
general, and the desire of happiness
in particular. The one is only a
branch of the other.
We might be able to say that
to know the truth is to see far off,
that feeling the trutfi is, to see
near by, and that this sejptiment
only operates in us by the -pleasure
it causes. It appears to me, on the
contrary, that the truth frequently
pleases us in speculation and in
absence ; but it pains us in
practice, and in being brought
near to it. It thus contradicts
our tastes and most favoured
inclinations. It shows us the
sacrifices we owe to the Infinite
Being. It discovers all the twists
and untwistings of our self-love,
the impurities of its virtues, and
our usurpations upon the rights
of the Divinity. This approach
of the far-off truth causes agreeable
sensations to enter the heart with
the most vivid sorrows, and yet we
there abide.
It is true that this conformity

Life of Fdnelon. 255
to Order is pleasing to heroic souls ;
but they accept it not only for an
agreeable sensation of the heart,
but also by a free act of the will.
It is thus that a Sovereign says in
his decrees, Such is our pleasure, that
is to say, Such is our will. In
this sense, everything we love
pleases us, that is to say which
we desire. Pleasure, therefore, is
not the spring which moves the will ;
it is itself the impulse of the will.
It is not an anticipative pleasure
that causes our love ; it is a free
complaisance that makes itself the
essence and exercise of our love.
Souls, buried in matter, do not
comprehend this sublime love of
Virtue. Men, ordinarily, only act
through the cause of a pleasure
more or less gross ; but what they
practice is not what they ought
to do. The incapacity of a nature,
blinded and affected by the passions,
is not the law of enlightened
nature, strengthened by sovereign
Reason. God at first accommodates Him
self to the weakness of our imperfect

256 History of the
and diseased nature. He transports
it with celestial pleasures to counter
balance in us the clogs of the
terrestrial. Then we attach our
selves to Virtue for the pleasures
accompanying it ; but in proportion
as the soul is purified, its love
becomes more intellectual. It can
always resist the Divine action ;
but, nevertheless, while it co
operates with it, the Divinity
takes possession of the man, lifts
him above himself, and makes him
place his happiness in the sovereign
Will, and nowise in these agree
able sensations. Such is the
triumph of wisdom over the human
heart ; herein is the martyrdom of
Divine Love.
The heathens appear to have
had some idea of this double kind
of virtue. It is on this account
that Hierocles says : "It was
necessary at first to make man
by moral and civil virtues, and
afterwards God by superhuman and
Divine ones." His whole work is
full of this maxim.
IV. The love of happiness is

Life of Fdnelon. 257
invincible ; but there is a happiness
consisting in our agreeable sen
sations, and another consisting in
conformity to Order. Daily, the
impious sacrifice the second to the
first. The saints are able to
sacrifice the first to the second.
This is what the greatest part of
celestial souls do, and will do
during all eternity. They have
not all the same degree of know
ledge, of pleasures, or of raptures ;
yet they are all happy, because
they do not measure their happiness
by their own feelings, but by their
conformity to the Divine Will.
It is thus that all intelligences will
be obliged to love God, and I
suppose that in eternity He will
bestow on them a degree of
Perfection and of Beatitude much
inferior to that of the immediate vi
sion of His Essence. It was through
these motives that the Cardinal
de Noailles and the Bishop of
Meaux withheld it as a dogma
of faith in the Articles of Issy.
"When we can inspire troubled
and truly humble hearts with a
17

258 History of the
submission to the will of God,
even though by a very false
supposition in lieu of the eternal
good promised to the just, they will
remain in eternal torments without
however being deprived of His
grace and love." So there are
only two prelates therefore opposed,
as were these two, to the illusions
of Quietism, who had dared to
speak this language, and they had
no need to press forward the
sacrifice far to establish the doctrine
of pure Love.
Further, the love of happiness is
invincible in this sense, that while
we have always a love for God, or
ourselves, we always desire happi
ness by a motive more or less
noble. There is a licentious desire
for happiness consisting in desiring
what pleases and flatters us, and
wherein we rejoice without refer
ence to precept. This far-off
unconquerable desire never can be
uprooted in us. But there is a
right desire of happiness which
consists in desiring the good, as
much as we are the images of the

Life of Fdnelon. 259
Divinity. This longing for happi
ness is never separated from pure
Love; for one can love Perfection
without loving everything pertain
ing to it, which bears a resemblance
to the Well- Beloved.
Finally, our true happiness con
sists in knowing and loving the
Infinite Perfection. The more we
have loved it, the further we wish to
love. For the nature of true love
necessarily consists in a desire to
love always; and in consequence,
pure love augments the chaste
hope. It does not destroy, but
only makes the motive more
perfect. Then we aspire to the
beatific vision, not only by a general
impulse, as we see everything that
God wishes us to see — even the most
indifferent things, but by a special
impulse as a state which unites us
to the Sovereign purity, consum
mating our love, rendering it
immutable. Do we desire less
happiness, because we desire it
through a motive worthy of God ?
We do not destroy hope, because
this will be the token that we must
17— 1

260 History of the
be animated, ruled and ennobled
through Love.
V. We must love God as the
Beautifier ; but again, we must love
Hjm still more as the perfect
Sovereignty. To love God as the
Beautifier, is to love H im for the good
that He will procure us. It is to
love Him for the finished participa
tion of His gifts. It is to love Him
for what He does in us, which is
always an infinitely little in com
parison with what is in Himself.
To love God for Himself is to love
Him for His total immensity. It
is to love the cause of the infinite
realities in Him, that we can never
see in all their length- It is for His
love of which we have a knowledge
in us, and not for what we feel in
ourselves. It is to love, without
measure, the Being without limit.
It is that love alone which expands
and elevates, and gives a hope of
boundlessness to the soul.
For the rest, we cannot love God
as the infinitely Perfect without
delighting in Him as the Beautifier ;
because His goodness communi-

Life of Fdnelon. 261
cates a Divine perception like His
other attributes. To love God
after this fashion does not diminish
the purity of love. But only to
love for the sole reason that He
can beautify us, is to separate hope
from love. It is to separate what
God has united. It is to confound
the specific motives of theological
virtues. Tired and fatigued with these
metaphysical researches, we return
to the ordinary, which always makes
the truly sublime. We are obliged
to place all our happiness in God,
but we are not obliged to love for
pleasure alone, or for happiness
only. Our duty is to love Him for
His benefits ; but we must love Him
infinitely more for His Perfections,
because God infinitely surpasses all
His gifts.
These are not the conceited
subtleties of the mind, but the
weaknesses of a heart capable of
love. The human mind is an
excellent philosopher when it yields
itself to the inclinations of nature,
pure and simple, re-established by

262 History of the Life of Fdnelon.
Grace, without having acquired the
vain distinction of the school. It
must separate the interests of the
Beloved from those of the lover.
But it is necessary to love so as to
understand what we love. It is
needful to have proved the power of
the Divine Love to know how far
it can elevate the human heart.
Such are the lessons which I have
learnt of the Archbishop of Cambray.
If there is any good thing in these
discourses, I have received it from
him. I have only related what
he frequently said to me. This
analysis of his principles would
have been an omission to his
History had I not undertaken it to
make that prelate known by his
opinions, as well as by his actions.
It is on this account that my esteem
and gratitude have followed him as
far as the tomb.

THE END.

NOTES.
(The Notes marked R are by Ramsay.)
Note A.
In Aventures de Tilkmaque (La Haye,
1703) Fdnelon is styled "Archeveque Due
de Cambrai, Prince de St. Empire, Comte
Cambresis." In his own Memoire sur la
soveraineti de Cambrai occurs the following
sentence a propos of his title : . . . " the
Bishop of Cambray had always possessed
the sovereignty of Cambray and the Cam-
bresians with the rank of Princes of the
empire, like the other Bishop-Sovereigns of
Germany." (Euvres, tom. 22, p. 567.
Note B.
Claude Fleury, Abb£, was born at Paris in
1640, and died in 1723. He is known as
un cklebre ecrivain religieux. Besides being
preceptor to the Duke of Burgundy, he
educated the Prince de Cond€ and the
Comte de Vermandois. He was first an
advocate, but afterwards took priest's orders,
and was the author of Les mozurs des
Israelites, Histoire Ecclesiastique, 36 tom. ;
Droit Public de France, 3 torn., and other
works.

264 History of the
Note C.
"He (the Duke of Burgundy) was so
passionate that he would break the clocks
when they struck the hour which summoned
him to some unwelcome duty, and fly into
the wildest rage with the rain, which hindered
some pleasure. Resistance made him per
fectly furious. . . . The marvel is, that in so
short a time, devotion and grace should have
made an altogether new being of him, and
changed so many redoubtable faults into
the entirely opposite virtues;" St. Simon-
Mimoires, tom. xv., p. 79.
Note D.
Fenelon, himself, states with regard to
Titimaque that " my only object was to amuse
the Duke of Burgundy with a tale of adven
ture, and to instruct him at the same time,
without ever thinking of giving the work to
the public." Correspondence, tom. 3, p. 247.
To- understand the political and religious
tenets inculcated on the Duke, the reader is
referred to Fenelon's work entitled : Examen
de conscience sur les . devoirs de la royaute,
compost pour F instruction de Louis de France,
Due de Bourgogne. There is also a Supplement
d I 'examen de conscience, in which reference is
made to La vie de Fdnelon by Ramsay. Vide
GEuvres de Fenelon, tom. xxii., pp. 266-320.
Note E.
Francis de la Combe's principal work
Orationis Mentalis Analysis was condemned
at Rome as heretical. He dated his conver-

Life of Fdnelon. 265
sion to a conversation with Madame Guyon,
and ever after remained her sincere friend.
He was cruelly calumniated, and "worried
from prison to a madhouse," where, utterly
exhausted by his inhuman treatment, he died.
Note F.
Of the Moyen court, no less than 300
copies were seized by several priests at Dijon,
who caused them to be publicly burned.
Note G.
This Archbishop was not only a profligate
and sensualist, but a disgrace to the Church in
which he held such a prominent position.
De La Baumelle says of him, "Harlai finit
une vie impure par une mort honteuse . . .
sans donner signe de repentir, il meurt dans
les bras de sa maitresse (la Duchess de
Lesdiguieres). . . . Nul orateur sacrd ne
se chargea de l'oraison funebre de Harlai.
Reste de l'ancienne probitd. Le P. Gaillard
fit un sermon sur I'incertitude de la vie, et ne
dit rien du mort." — Memoires, tom. iv., p. 62.
St. Beuve says of De Harlai, " De religion,
de croyance proprement dite, il n'en avait
pas." Nouveau Lundis. Tom. v., p. 187.
Note H.
Madame Guyon thus records the impression
left upon her mind in her earlier interview
with Fdnelon. " It was in the early part of
next day that I saw him again. My soul
desired that he might be all that the Lord
would have him to be. . . . During eight

266 History of the
whole days he rested, as a burden, on my
spirit. During that time my soul suffered
and wrestled for him, and then, the agony of
my spirit passing away, I found inward rest.
Since that time, looking upon him as one
wholly given to the Lord, I have felt myself
united to him without any obstacle. And
our union of spirit with each other has
increased ever since, after a manner pure
and ineffable. My soul has seemed to be
united to his in the bond of divine love, as
was that of Jonathan to David. The Lord
has given me a view of the great designs He
has upon this person, and how dear he is to
Him." Upham's Life of Madame Guyon,
PP- 335-6- Note I.
This Spanish priest, Miguel de Molinos,
was born at Saragossa in 1640, and died in
the dungeons of the Inquisition, 28th Dec,
1697. About the year 1670 he was ordained
a priest, and moved in the highest society at
Rome. In 1670 he published his Guida
Spirituale, to which was subsequently added
the Breve trattato delta cottidiana communione.
This work forms the basis of Quietism.
His teachings were formally condemned by
Innocent XI. in 1687. Vide Schar1'""
Mystikeren Molinos (Copenhagen, 18^,-,,
Bigelow-Molinos the Quietist (N. York),
1882 ; and Herzog-Rcal-Encyklopddie. Note J.
Madame de Maintenon. "She was of a
narrow monastic temperament, a kind of

Life of Fdnelon. 267
female Jesuit, with great gifts and skill in
direction . . . Her thoughts and feelings all
ran along one well-defined track, infinitely
petty and narrow." Kitchin — History of
France. Vol. 3, p. 221.
Note K.
In one of the latest eulogistic works
concerning Bossuet, the following extract
will supplement that of Ramsay's : "Bossuet
always kept perfect control of himself,
neither was he ever hurried : he shunned all
inquietude and bustle, which impeded his
action. His great maxim was, 'Sufficient
unto the day is the evil thereof.' Thus his
activity was helped and seconded without
heat." Bossuet, par Lawson, p. 18.
Note L.
In connection with the storm evoked by
the publication of the Maximes, the following
interesting anecdote is related by De La
Baumelle. On returning to Paris, Fdnelon
had an interview with Madame de Maintenon,
who was reading the book when he entered.
"Here is a chapter," she said to him, "which
I have read nine times, and I cannot under
stand it yet."
"Madame," said the Archbishop, "if you
read it a hundred times, you will not under
stand it any better! All mystical writings
are obscure, and the court is not the best
place wherein to learn them."
" Probably that is why such dreadful things
are said about your book," was the answer,

268 History of the
" but when I recollect that you wrote it, I feel
reassured in spite of the fuss." M'emoires,
tom. iv., p. 72.
Note M.
These gentilhommes de la manche were
employed to accompany, and to take care of,
the sons of Royalty in France, prior to the
attainment of their majority. "Ces gentil
hommes accompagnaient partout les princes,
et, l'etiquette ne leur permettait pas de les
tenir par la main, ils ne les touchaient qu'a
la manche; de la leur nom." — Littri. Diet.
de la langue frangaise.
Note N.
In all the letters printed herewith, it must
be stated that they essentially differ, in many
respects, from those afterwards published in
Fenelon's Correspondence. Sometimes the
phraseology is different ; sometimes there is
more matter, and occasionally there is less.
Ramsay seems to blame, in one or two
instances, for not giving his letters in such a
complete fashion as he might otherwise have
done. Note O.
The question of right was whether the
propositions condemned by the court at
Rome were justly condemned, or not ; while
the question of fact was the debatable one as
to whether these propositioris were, or were
not contained in the Book of Maxims, where
they were supposed to be found.

Life of Fdnelon. 269
Note P.
This expression of propre mouvetnent
signifies, in the sense attached to it by the
Romish authority, that the Pope decided the
question by virtue of his sovereign authority,
and as the infallible judge of controversy.
Note Q.
Such was the " catholic spirit " pervading
the minds of Fenelon's enemies that no
unworthy artifice was left untried to humiliate
him; and this is confirmed all the more
when we find that the Bishop of St. Omer
had been instigated by Bossuet to act as he
did — his letter to that prelate being still
extant to prove his malice against his high-
principled opponent. — Vide Correspondence,
tom. x., p. 577.
Note R.
As bearing in some degree on Madame
Guyon's expression of faith as stated in
the preliminary part of her will, we quote the
following short hymn writtten by her, entitled :
GOD THE FOUNTAIN OF LOVE TO HIS CHILDREN.
I love my God, but with no love of mine,
For I have none to give ;
I love Thee, Lord ; but all the love is Thine,
For by Thy life I live.
I am as nothing, and rejoice to be
Emptied, and lost, and swallowed up in Thee.
Thou, Lord, alone, art all Thy children need,
And there is none beside ;
From Thee the streams of blessedness proceed ;
In Thee the bless'd abide.
Fountain of life, and all-abounding grace,
Our source, our centre, and our dwelling-place.
Poems, ChurchhilVs ed.

270 History of the
Note S.
The passage to which Ramsay makes
reference is evidently the one found in the
tenth book of Telimaque, of which we quote
a few sentences at the beginning and the
close. Mentor says : " You must remember
that the countries wherein sovereign rule
is most despotic are those where sovereigns
are least powerful. They seize, they ruin
everything; they alone are masters of the
state, therefore the whole kingdom languishes :
fields are uncultivated and almost deserted,
the cities diminish daily, commerce dries up.
The king who cannot be king all alone, and
who is only great through his subjects, little
by little destroys himself by insensibly
destroying the people from whom he draws
his riches and his power. His kingdom is
drained of money and of men, — the last loss
is the greatest and most irreparable. . . .
The king who, in his vain prosperity, could
not find a single individual bold enough to
speak the truth to him, will not find, in his
misfortune, any man who will endeavour to
rescue him, or defend him against his
enemies." Fdnelon (Euvres, tom. xx., Paris,
1824.
Note T.
The passage from Marcus Aurelius,
Bk. 4, p. 26, referred to by Ramsay, reads
as follows : " Avoid distraction ; aim at
simplicity. Does any man sin? he sins to
himself.- Has aught befallen thee? It is
well : every event that happens was portioned

Life of Fdnelon. 271
out to thee in the order of the universe, and
woven into thy destiny from the beginning.
In a word, life is short : turn the present to
account, with circumspection and justice as
thy guides. In relaxation, be sober."
Transl. by Hastings Crossley (Lond., 1882).

Note U.
The adversaries of the Archbishop of
Cambray have interpreted this Equilibrium,
as if meaning that we could not be free
unless by having an equal inclination towards
good and evil Nothing is more contrary to
his idea. His equilibrium of power is not
an equilibrium of inclination. He expressly
states that this equilibrium does not consist
in an "equality of two contrary kinds of
pleasure," but in an "equality of strength
between the attraction of the temptation, and
the power of the will fortified by Grace."
We may have a real power to act against the
strongest inclination. Familiarity with good
or evil never destroys liberty. The more we
are conformed to the one, the more easily
we lose indulgence in the other. But the
soul never loses its mobility, till it is fixed by
death in a perfect immobility with the angels,
or the devil. The word equilibrium is not a
new one. St. Basil is even stronger than the
Archbishop of Cambray in the same sense,
in his homily upon the 61st Psalm.
I owe this remark to the Rev. Father
De Tournemine, a Jesuit, for whom the
Archbishop of Cambray had a particular
friendship and regard. (R.)

272 History of the
Note V.
With reference to Bossuet's work entitled
Discours sur I'histoire universelle, a critic
gives his opinion of it in the following
terms : — " A striking original attempt to
construct a Christian philosophy of history
on the principle that the destinies of nations
are controlled by Providence, in the interests
of the Roman Catholic Church." Article
Bossuet, in Religious Encyclop., Ed. by
P. Schaff.
Note W.
This system has nothing in common with
that upholding the belief that God is not
only the cause of all our sensations, but their
immediate object. According to the fantas
tical language of these philosophers, when
we feel pain it is the Ideal finger stimulating
us through an intelligible pin, both of which
are portions of intelligible attentions, or of
the Divine substance, as representatives of
matter. The new Spinosaists have taken
occasion to say, that according to the new
philosophy, there can only be one Being who
reconciles in His substance as attributes,
intelligible duratiori, and knowledge. It is
thus that certain subtle minds, who rush to
be Lights, have pushed the Malebranchian
theory to impiety against the intentions of
the author. (R.)
Note X.
After the publication of Ramsay's posthu
mous work, The Philosophical Principles of

Life of Fdnelon. 273
Natural and Revealed Religion, (stated by
the " Monthly Review," in its criticism of the
work, to be "one of the most remarkable
books our age has produced,") the French
critics were so utterly taken aback at some of
the statements therein contained, that they
did not understand how the author could
have been a member of the Roman Catholic
Church, and have held such views on eternal
punishment, as that all beings would finally
be saved, while he also opposed other cardinal
points of doctrine. The only escape from the
dilemma was the ingenious one of attributing
all Ramsay's heterodox statements as inter
polations Of his editor, even although the
author himself states that such opinions were
held by Fenelon himself!
Note Y.
The reader who has followed the narrative
thus far will perhaps be unable to solve the
problem as to what gain Ramsay obtained in
becoming a member of the Church of Rome.
His main objection to the doctrines of the
faith of his youth was on account of " the
fanaticism or contradiction which reigned in
all the different Protestant systems." His
own tale in this Histoire, dealing with the
persecution of the Huguenots "abandoned
to the most rigorous treatment"; the distortion
of facts and principles that Bossuet resorted
to, wherewith to accomplish the destruction
of Madame Guyon; the espionage, carried on
for successive years, her imprisonment, and
that of Pere la Combe, worried from prison
to a madhouse where he died, read in

274 History of the
connection with the remorseless malignity
and enmity meted out by the fellow-believers
of Fdnelon to that prelate and his intimate
friends, who were dismissed from office
because they were his friends, casts a weird
light over the dramatic scenes pictured for
us by Ramsay, as the outcome of the
toleration and unitedness of the spiritual
Church wherein he found rest.
Note Z.
In connection with these views of Fdnelon,
it will, perhaps, not be deemed inappropriate
to quote from Dr. Newman's exquisite hymn
in his Lyra Apostolica : —
"I still am near;
Watching the smiles I prized on earth,
Your converse mild, your blameless mirth ;
Now, too, I hear
Of whispered sounds the tale complete,
Low prayers and musings sweet.
A sea before
The Throne is spread ; its pure, still glass
Pictures all earth-scenes as they pass.
We, on its shore,
Share in the bosom of our rest —
God's knowledge, and are blest. "
Note A1.
Shortly after the banishment of Fdnelon,
Louis XIV. threatened de Beauvilliers with
his serious displeasure if he did not cease his
intimacy with him, to which the Duke
replied, " I have been the friend of Fdnelon ;
I am his friend now. I can submit to
whatever your majesty may impose upon me ;
but I cannot eradicate the sentiments of my

Life of Fdnelon. 275
heart. The power of your majesty has
raised me to my present position ; the same
power can degrade me. Acknowledging the
will of God in the will of my King, I shall
cheerfully withdraw from your court whenever
you shall require it, regretting that I have
displeased you, and hoping that I may lead
hereafter a life of greater tranquillity." The
King, after such a bold avowal, allowed the
Due de Beauvilliers to remain in peace.
Note A2.
This Prince was James the Pretender, who
remained at Cambray in the year 1709-10.
In the conversations which took place be
tween Fenelon and the Prince, Ramsay was
present, and took notes of what was said.
After the death of Fenelon, Ramsay wrote
out and expanded these interviews, which
were published in London for the first time
in 1721, under the title of Essai Philosophi-
que sur le gouvernement civil. So rapid was
the sale of this work, that a second edition
was issued in the same year. In the preface
to this last edition Ramsay states that " the
first was very imperfect," and the second " is
more correct and fuller." He further states,
with reference to Fdnelon, " that he profited
by the instructions of that illustrious prelate
to write this essay." Notwithstanding this,
however, we find this essay attributed to
Fdnelon, and it is issued as a portion of his
works, in the edition printed at Paris in 1824,1
although the editor candidly states thereanent
that Fdnelon never penned a single sentence !
1 CEuvres de Fenelon, tom. xxii.

276 History of the Life of Fdnelon.
"Quoique cet ouvrage n'ait pas dtd rddige
par Fdnelon lui-meme, nous n'avons pas cru
pouvoir nous dispenser de la joindre a la
collection de ses ceuvres." Note A3.
Fenelon's expressions on the virtues of
toleration were not only opposed to those of
Louis XIV., but at variance with the ordinary
policy of the Roman Catholic Church, as
generally viewed in the light of history. We
find the historian, Lecky, stating that this
Church "meddles persistently in domestic
life, dictating the conditions of marriage,
prescribing to the parent the places of
secular education to which he may, or may
not send his children, interfering between
the husband and the wife, and between the
parent and the child. It orders all men,
under pain of eternal perdition, to attend to
Hts ministrations, to obey its precepts, to
record, in the confessional, the inmost secrets
of their hearts. ... As a matter of fact, a
Church which is, in its own nature, in
principle and in practice, persecuting wherever
it has the power, cannot, like other religions,
claim toleration." Democracy and Liberty.
Vol. ii., pp. 23, 24, 25.
Note A*.
For those who are desirous of pursuing
the matter in fuller detail, reference may be
made to Ramsay's Essai Philosophiqut sur le
gouvernement civil.

fe'l'