pieces and at different intervals; all I thought of
was to amuse the Duke of Burgundy, and, whilst amusing, to instruct him,
without ever meaning to give the work to the public."
_Telemaque_ was published, without any author's name and by an
indiscretion of the copyist's, on the 6th of April, 1699. Fenelon was in
exile at his diocese; public rumor before long attributed the work to
him; the _Maximes des Saints_ had just been condemned, _Telemaque_ was
seized, the printers were punished; some copies had escaped the police;
the book was reprinted in Holland; all Europe read it, finding therein
the allusions and undermeanings against which Fenelon defended himself.
Louis XIV. was more than ever angry with the archbishop. "I cannot
forgive M. de Cambrai for having composed the Telemaque," Madame de
Maintenon would say. Fenelon's disgrace, begun by the _Maximes des
Saints_ touching absolute (pure) love, was confirmed by his ideal picture
of kingly power. Chimerical in his theories of government, high-flown in
his pious doctrines, Fenelon, in the conduct of his life as well as in
his practical directions to his friends, showed a wisdom, a prudence, a
tact which singularly belied the free speculations of his mind or his
heart. He preserved silence amid the commendations and criticisms of the
_Telemaque_. "I have no need and no desire to change my position," he
would say; "I am beginning to be old, and I am infirm; there is no
occasion for my friends to ever commit themselves or to take any doubtful
step on my account. I never sought out the court; I was sent for
thither. I staid there nearly ten years without obtruding myself,
without taking a single step on my own behalf, without asking the
smallest favor, without meddling in any matter, and confining myself to
answering conscientiously in all matters about which I was spoken to.
I was dismissed; all I have to do is to remain at peace in my own place.
I doubt not that, besides the matter of my condemned work, the policy of
_Telemaque_ was employed against me upon the king's mind; but I must
suffer and hold my tongue."
Every tongue was held within range of King Louis XIV. It was only on the
22d of December, 1701, four years after Fenelon's departure, that the
Duke of Burgundy thought he might write to him in the greatest secrecy:
"At last, my dear archbishop, I find a favorable opportunity of breaking
the silence I have kept for four years. I have suffered many tro
|