In February, 1697, before Fénelon had permanently left Versailles, news came that a fire had burned to the ground the archiepiscopal palace at Cambrai, and consumed many or all of his books and writings. His friend, the Abbé de Langeron, seeing Fénelon conversing at ease with a number of persons, supposed he had not heard these unpleasant tidings, and began with some formality and caution to inform him. But Fénelon, perceiving his solicitude, interrupted him by saying that he was fully acquainted with what had happened, adding further that, although the loss was a very great one, he would much rather they were burned than the cottage of a poor peasant. This has been adjudged a more touching and pious rejoinder than that of the literary man whose library was destroyed by fire and who replied to the tidings, “I should have profited little by my books if they had not taught me how to bear the loss of them.” Fénelon was taught compassion for men and acceptance of the Divine will from a higher source than books. At his own expense he rebuilt the palace and furnished it in a suitable style of magnificence, but he did not allow the arms of his family to be affixed or painted on any part of it. The archbishop’s day was very carefully laid out, and has been quite minutely described. After the early rising, the private devotions, and the public services, he was visible until nine o’clock to those only who attended him by appointment. After that, till he dined, his doors were open to all persons who had business with him. Noon was the hour for dinner. His table was suitable to his rank, handsomely dressed, with a great variety and abundance of good food, that his many guests might enjoy themselves, but he himself was extremely abstemious, eating only the simplest and lightest viands, and of them but sparingly. Contrary to the custom of most prelates, his chaplains, secretaries, attendants, and all officers of the household, sat with him at the same table, making a very harmonious household, among whom conversation was briskly carried on, Fénelon taking his part, but leaving every one full scope. After dinner all went to the great state bedchamber, which was very finely furnished, but was used mainly as a sitting-room, Fénelon himself sleeping in a little room adjoining, furnished simply with some gray woolen materials and only adorned with a few engravings. General conversation was continued in the large room; but a small table was placed before Fénelon, on which he signed his name to papers which required immediate dispatch, and took opportunity to give directions to his chaplains on the affairs of the diocese. He said grace both before and after dinner. He spent the evening with those that were in the house, whoever they might be, supping with the people who happened to be present. Supper was at nine. At ten the whole of the household assembled. One of his chaplains read the night prayers, and at the end