CHAPTER I.

THE UNCLE AND NEPHEW.-COURT NEWS AND COURT MORALS.-FASHIONABLE PREACHERS.-FENELON'S VIEWS OF BOURDALOUE.

ONE day in the beginning of the month of April, 1675, two men might have been seen walking in one of the avenues of the park of Versailles, at a short distance from the Chateau. One of them might have been about sixty-five years of age, the other twenty four. The former wore a sword, the latter an abbé's robe. Not to delay longer the mention of their names, the elder was the Marquis de Fénélon, formerly lieutenant-general in the armies of Louis XIV., and the other his nephew, a young man then unknown to fame, but to whose subsequent greatness alone, is owing the mention made in history of his ancestors, or his uncle.

The old Marquis de Fénélon was, nevertheless, a man deserving of high respect. After having acquired the esteem of the first generals of his time, by his talents and courage,* he had devoted himself entirely to the observance of the most elevated duties of religion and morals;-but, as his life had always been pure, and as his piety was not the effect of one of those conver

* The great Condé said of him, that he was "equally skilful in conversation, in battle, and in the council chamber." During the period of the greatest rage for duelling, he had dared to put himself at the head of an association, the members of which made a vow never to accept nor to send a challenge.

sion so fashionable in that day,—it was destitute of the bitterness, and of the littleness, which almost always characterized people of rank, when after a life of dissipation they returned, or fancied they returned, to God.* A widower for many years, he had had the affliction of losing a son of great promise, at the siege of Candia in 1669. From that time all his affections were divided between his daughter, (afterwards Marquise de MontmorenciLaval,) and the youngest child of the Count de Fénélon his brother. The count was still living, but he was happy to resign to such a brother some of his parental rights, and those of the head of a family.

At court, where, however, he was but rarely seen, the Marquis de Fénélon bore the reputation of a second Montausier. This is equivalent to saying that the courtiers disliked, although they were forced to esteem him.

On this particular day, however, he was at Versailles. The court had just arrived from St. Germain, where it had passed the winter. He had arrived from his estates at Périgord, where he had passed his winter, and whither he intended returning in a short time,-as soon as he had completed the arrangement of some business either at Paris or Versailles. The most important thing was to see his favorite nephew.

He was, however, neither so Périgordian a nobleman, nor so stoical a philosopher, as to take no interest in the news of a court which gave tone to all Europe;-particularly, as his nephew, being attached to the chapel of the king, was in a position to give him the most accurate information.

* See, in the history of Fénélon, by the Cardinal de Bausset, book i. some letters from the marquis to his nephew. They are worthy of admiration for their gentleness and gravity, their philosophy and their faith.

It was not until 1683, that Louis XIV. took up his residence for the whole year at Versailles.

They were now, accordingly, discussing the news as they walked. The Abbé told a story remarkably well, and many of the courtiers would have been not a little astonished to find him so well-informed in regard to everything. Not that he took the least part in the petty intrigues whose thread he so skilfully unravelled, but he had the art of seeing, and seeing well, and what he did not see, he guessed better than any one else. Few men have ever better understood the human heart; it may even be said that he excelled Bossuet in this respect. The views of the latter were the grandest,—those of Fénélon had more acuteness and ingenuity. "The first," says a historian,* "understood man better than he did men," the latter, we may add, understood man and men; which, however, does not imply that he was never wrong in his judgment.

After having with alternate vexation and amusement listened to the recital of several occurrences with which we have at present nothing to do, the marquis inquired, "And Madame de Montespan, how does she stand with the king?"

"There is nothing new. It was believed there were some clouds to be seen-but the king does not seem to grow cooler. She reigns in peace. The whole court is at her feet."

"I hope my nephew has not been seen there," said the mar quis, stopping short, and fixing a scrutinizing gaze upon the young man.

"No, uncle;-you forbade my going."

"Ah! that is your reason?"

"You well know, that I have never disobeyed you."

*M. de Barante.

A letter was lately discovered in the archives of the city of Perpig uan, from Louvois to M. de Magneron, intendant of Roussillon, in 1667. The minister enjoins on him to seize all occasions for vexing and ruining M. de Montespan, because he had gone into mourning for his wife on the occasion of the birth of her first child by Louis XIV.

"Yes, but I could have wished, that there had been no need for my prohibition, and I am sorry to perceive from your tone, that your inclination would lead you to follow the crowd. You have obeyed me, well and good;-but I would not have believed, that it would require an effort for my nephew to abstain from aiding to increase this woman's court."

"All the bishops go."

"So much the worse for them and for the church."

"I do not assert that they do right,—but at any rate it would have sheltered a poor chaplain from criticism-"

"Court morals, nephew, court morals! If it is wrong it is wrong; there is no medium. What matters it to me that others do not blame you, if I am forced to do so?”

The good marquis was right; yet without excusing the error of his nephew, we can understand it. A careful examination of the history of this period, shows plainly, that the contemporaries of Louis XIV. were, in general, very far from feeling as sensibly as one might imagine, the immorality of his conduct. And when we speak of contemporaries, we do not mean to designate professed courtiers only ;

"Cameleon race, who ever ape their lords."*

it is evident that they would desire nothing better;-but this prince had the faculty of giving to his most culpable actions, a dignity and grandeur by which, it appears that the gravest and most pious men were more or less influenced.

"It is the spirit of the age," said Arnauld, "even among the

See, in the Memoirs of Madame de Motteville, the general astonishment that the Queen Mother should object to her son's gallantries. It was considered incomprehensible how these should render her uneasy, so long as her influence over the young king received no check; she was considered, indeed, very simple not to use this as a new means to confirm her power.

most enlightened." He was, upon the whole, censured, but not as any other man would have been censured. It had become quite customary to relate of him, as a matter of course, things which related of any other man would have aroused general indignation.

Among the hundred letters in which Madame de Sevigné speaks of the amours of Louis XIV., scarcely one is to be found from which it might be inferred, that she did not look upon it all as quite irreprehensible,—and yet she is writing to her daughter! The scandal which he caused was, so to speak, not real scandal; -the real harm caused by such conduct, is its liability to imitation, and we perceive on the contrary, that the morals of the court were less depraved in his reign than in those of his predecessors, even of his father, whose prudery was carried to a ridiculous excess.

*

It has been asserted that this reformation was only an external one. It is true that forms are not of equal value with principles, but it would be easy to prove that principles also were improved, or at least much modified; the memoirs of the reigns of Francis I., Henry IV., and Louis XIII. do not admit of a doubt on this point. Moreover, in matters of this kind, external reformation is highly important; in depriving immorality of the right to hold high its head, Louis XIV. deprived it of its principal attraction in the eyes of the young nobility.

And if the question now be asked, how Louis XIV. had the power and audacity, while displaying his own irregularities, to force every one else to conceal theirs,—we must admit, that it is indeed very strange; but history is positive upon this point. He was looked upon as too exalted for any one to dare take his example as a precedent. "He is the only prince," says Duclos, "whose example has never been the authority for public morals.

*Considérations sur les Mœurs.