It is now our privilege to bid farewell to the noise of battle, and look at the good archbishop in the peaceful retirement of his great diocese, where, as all admit, his episcopal duties were perfectly performed. Even the most captious carpers and cavilers at Fénelon, who can see little or no good in any other part of his life and try hard to find some unworthy motive at the bottom of the acts that seem so fair, are sore put to it, when they come to this portion, to withhold a meed of hearty praise. They are forced to admit that his misfortunes have helped his character, and that he shines forth with a luster rarely, if ever, equaled. What he would have become spiritually had the world continued to smile upon him is, of course, unknown. Had Louis XIV died and the Duke of Burgundy come to the throne, Fénelon would undoubtedly have reached the cardinalate for which his birth and abilities so well fitted him, and might even have gone higher. But it is not likely that, in the vitiated atmosphere of the court, and surrounded by the temptations inevitably awaiting on unclouded success, his character could have developed as it did in affliction. Some measure of adversity seems to be essential to bring out the best there is in us. His career has been called by some superficial observers “a splendid failure,” but the words have no meaning except in the sense in which they might be used of Jesus of Nazareth and a multitude of others who have stood for the highest ideals and have died nobly fighting against wrong. Fénelon did not falter in his course; he obeyed at eve “the voice obeyed at prime;” he held to the end the supreme purpose which had inspired his earliest reflections. But his years of exile, spent in the single-hearted service of his people, are a more impressive and edifying conclusion to a life begun under the auspices of St. Sulpice than if they had been attended with all the glories of the papal court. His reverses of fortune gave him an admirable opportunity, magnificently improved, to show that his high theories of resignation and self-surrender, and a serene acceptance of everything from God’s hand, could work well in practice. Under the stress of his troubles he gained new depth and breadth of piety, new self-reliance and self-control, larger tranquillity, a more thoroughly compacted character.