At a much later date Fénelon, writing about these days to a friend, said of the prince: “He was sincere and ingenuous to a degree that one only needed to question him in order to know whatever he had done wrong. One day, when he was very much out of temper, he tried to conceal some act of disobedience, and I urged him to tell the truth, remembering that we were in God’s sight. Then he threw himself into a great passion, and said, ‘Why do you put it in that way? Well, then, since you ask it so, I can not deny that I did that,’ whatever it was. He was beside himself with anger, but still his sense of religious duty was so strong that it drew forth the most humiliating acknowledgments. I never corrected him save where it was really necessary, and then with great caution. The moment his passion was over he would come back to me, and confess himself to blame, so that we had to console him; and he was really grateful to those who corrected him. He used sometimes to say to me, ‘Now I shall leave the Duke of Burgundy behind the door, and be only little Louis with you.’ This was when he was nine years old. Directly he saw me doing any work for him he wanted to do the same, and would set to on his own account. Except in his moments of passion I never knew him influenced save by the most straightforward principles and most strictly in accordance with the teachings of the Gospel. He was kind and gracious to all who had a claim upon him; but he reserved his confidence wholly for such as he believed to be religious people, and they could tell him nothing about his faults which he did not acknowledge with gratitude. I never saw any one whom I should less have feared to displease by telling him the harshest truths concerning himself. I have proved that by some wonderful experiences.”