Fénelon, when the decision at Rome was communicated to him, acted as his friends had expected, although some of them had hardly dared hope that even he could rise so magnificently to the occasion. He accepted, simply, sincerely, sweetly, with no reservation or concealment or half-heartedness, what he regarded as, under the circumstances, the voice of God. His brother, the Compte de Fénelon, heard the tidings first in Paris, and started instantly for Cambrai, thinking that the reception of the news through a kindly channel might at least lighten somewhat the blow. He arrived on the Festival of the Annunciation, just as the archbishop was about to preach in the cathedral. However keenly he felt the blow—and he was, of course, human—he was not disconcerted, or cast down, or perplexed. Pausing a little to arrange his thoughts, he threw aside his intended sermon, and preached on the duty of absolute submission to authority. The congregation, among whom the news was already whispered, was most profoundly impressed with the calm dignity, the noble simplicity of their beloved chief pastor; and the eyes of most overflowed with tears of admiration, affection, grief, and respect as they listened to his heartfelt words. He was not a little harassed, as the days went on, by some zealous, well-meaning folk, who feared that he might not do the best thing, and wrote him long exhortations to submit, telling him of the glory he would find in such humiliation and the heroism he would achieve. He wrote to Beauvilliers: “All this wearies me somewhat; and I am disposed to say to myself, What have I done to all these people that they think I shall find it so difficult to prefer the authority of the Holy See to my own dim knowledge, or the peace of the Church to my own book? However, I am well aware they are right in attributing large imperfections to me and much shrinking from an act of humiliation; therefore I can easily forgive them.” He wrote: “Doubtless it costs one something to humble one’s self; but the least resistance to the Holy See would cost me a hundred-fold more, and I must confess that I can see no room for hesitation in the matter. One may suffer, but one can not have a moment’s doubt.” He also said: “Amid these troubles I have the comfort, little appreciated by the world, but very satisfactory to those who seek God heartily, namely, that my course is clear, and I have nothing to hesitate about.”