as to last as long as his life; on
his departure, he wrote to Madame de Maintenon, "I shall depart hence,
madame, to-morrow, Friday, in obedience to the king. My greatest sorrow
is to have wearied him and to displease him. I shall not cease, all the
days of my life, to pray God to pour His graces upon him. I consent to
be crushed more and more. The only thing I ask of his Majesty is, that
the diocese of Cambrai, which is guiltless, may not suffer for the errors
imputed to me. I ask protection only for the sake of the church, and
even that protection I limit to not being disturbed in those few good
works which my present position permits me to do, in order to fulfil a
pastor's duties. It remains for me, madame, only to ask your pardon for
all the trouble I have caused you. I shall all my life be as deeply
sensible of your former kindnesses as if I had not forfeited them, and my
respectful attachment to yourself, madame, will never diminish."

Fenelon made no mistake in addressing to Madame de Maintenon his farewell
and his regrets; she had acted against him with the uneasiness of a
person led away for a moment by an irresistible attraction, and
returning, quite affrighted, to rule and the beaten paths. The mere love
theory had no power to fascinate her for long. The Archbishop of Cambrai
did not drop out of that pleasant dignity. The pious councillors of the
king were working against him at Rome, bringing all the influence of
France to weigh upon Innocent XII. Fenelon had taken no part in the
declarations of the Gallican church, in 1682, which had been drawn up by
Bossuet; the court of Rome was inclined towards him; the strife became
bitter and personal; pamphlets succeeded pamphlets, letters. Bossuet
published a _Relation du Quietisme_ (An Account of Quietism), and remarks
upon the reply of M. de Cambrai. "I write this for the people," he said,
"in order that, the character of M. de Cambrai being known, his eloquence
may, with God's permission, no more impose upon anybody." Fenelon
replied with a vigor, a fullness, and a moderation which brought men's
minds over to him. "You do more for me by the excess of your
accusations," said he to Bossuet, "than I could do myself. But what a
melancholy consolation when we look at the scandal which troubles the
house of God, and which causes so many heretics and libertines (free-
thinkers) to triumph! Whatever end may be put by a holy pontiff to this
matter, I await