It was about this same time that Sir Matthew Hale in England (he died in 1676)—who was reckoned the best judge of his time, acute, learned, sensible, setting himself strongly against bribery, one of the serious vices of his age, a friend of Richard Baxter, an austere scholar, leaning to the side of the Puritans—sentenced women to be executed for witchcraft, and sent John Bunyan to jail for frequenting conventicles, politely dismissing, without redress, his wife, who pleaded for his discharge. And in our own time we have seen the Earl of Shaftesbury, who did such wonderful things for the oppressed in some directions, most bitter against the reformers in all other lines except his own, the stanchest of Tories, and the most rigid of Churchmen, denouncing the democratic principle as anti-Christian, and upholding the infamous Conventicle Act, which forbade worship in a private house by more than twenty persons. Similar inconsistencies can be pointed out in the record of nearly all good men. What does it prove? Simply that it is given to very few to rise much above the age in which they live, or to be at all points independent of the impress placed upon them in their early years. We see no reason to believe that Fénelon’s attitude toward the Protestants of his day was other than an entirely sincere and conscientious one, such as might be fairly looked for in a person of his surroundings. It is possible to impute sinister and selfish motives to any, if one is so disposed, but we see no benefit from this policy. It is not the way we would wish to be treated ourselves. Almost every act of a man’s life is susceptible of an evil construction, if sufficient pains is taken and sufficient force applied. But we can not join with those who appear to delight in pulling down from their pedestals all that have been lifted above their fellows in goodness by the general suffrage of mankind. Truth, of course, is to be sought at all costs. But it makes a vast difference from what standpoint the facts are approached, whether with suspicion and aversion, or cordial appreciation and comprehension. There is often an underlying dislike to a certain type of character or to certain sentiments and opinions, because of the wide difference between them and those which the writer himself holds and practices, which makes it impossible that he should see them in an unbiased light. We can not escape the conclusion that Fénelon has been treated by some recent writers in this manner, and we protest against its unfairness.