Fenelon Quotes

All wars are civil wars because all men are brothers... Each one owes infinitely more to the human race than to the particular country in which he was born.

The history of the world suggests that without love of God there is little likelihood of a love for man that does not become corrupt.

The wind of God is always blowing... but you must hoist your sail.

If the crowns of all the kingdoms of the empire were laid down at my feet in exchange for my books and my love of reading I would spurn them all.

We can often do more for other men by trying to correct our own faults than by trying to correct theirs ~ Francois Fenelon

Looking back over my own life I here declare without apology that it is the study of God's Word, year after year, close communion with Christ, and great books that have nourished my soul in wondrous ways. Such authors as Fenelon, Henry Drummond, F. B. Meyer, G. Campbell Morgan, Martyn Lloyd Jones, A. W. Tozer, Hannah Whitehall Smith Oswald Chambers, Andrew Murray and John Stott have each, with their own special insights, enriched my life beyond measure.

If the riches of the Indies, or the crowns of all the kingdom of Europe, were laid at my feet in exchange for my love of reading, I would spurn them all.

Here is a true spiritual principle that the Lord will not deny: God gives us the cross, and then the cross gives us God.

Let the water flow beneath the bridge; let men be men, that is to say, weak, vain, inconstant, unjust, false, and presumptuous; let the world be the world still; you cannot prevent it. Let every one follow his own inclination and habits; you cannot recast them, and the best course is, to let them be as they are and bear with them. Do not think it strange when you witness unreasonableness and injustice; rest in peace in the bosom of God; He sees it all more clearly than you do, and yet permits it. Be content to do quietly and gently what it becomes you to do, and let everything else be to you as though it were not.

It appears that having a close walk with the Lord is not religiously acceptable.

They accuse me--Me--the present writer of The present poem--of--I know not what,-- A tendency to under-rate and scoff At human power and virtue, and all that; And this they say in language rather rough. Good God! I wonder what they would be at! I say no more than has been said in Dante's Verse, and by Solomon and by Cervantes; By Swift, by Machiavel, by Rochefoucault; By Fenelon, by Luther and by Plato; By Tillotson, and Wesley, and Rousseau, Who knew this life was not worth a potato. 'Tis not their fault, nor mine, if this be so-- For my part, I pretend not to be Cato, Nor even Diogenes.--We live and die, But which is best, you know no more than I.

you must carry the cross with Christ in this life. Soon enough there will come a time when you will no longer suffer. You will reign with God and He will wipe away your tears with His own hand. In His presence, pain and sighing will forever flee away.

All wars are civil wars, because all men are brothers.

Collect yourself in His presence with the one purpose and intent of loving Him. Come to Him as one who is giving himself to God. Behold Him in the most inward recess of your spirit that you can find.

God is merciful, showing us our true hideousness only in proportion to the courage he gives us to bear the sight.

If godliness is not from deep within you, it is only a mask.

Do not add to the cross in your life by becoming so busy that you have no time to sit quietly before God. Do not resist what God brings into your life. Be willing to suffer if that is what is needed. Overactivity and stubbornness will only increase your anguish.

Those who correct others should watch for the Holy Spirit to go ahead of them and touch a person's heart. Learn to imitate Him who reproves gently. . . . When you become outraged over a person's fault, it is generally not "righteous indignation" but your own impatient personality expressing itself. Here is the imperfect pointing a finger at the imperfect. The more you selfishly love yourself, the more critical you will be. Self-love cannot forgive the self- love it discovers in others. Nothing is so offensive to a haughty, conceited heart as the sight of another one. God's love, however, is full of consideration, patience, and tenderness. It leads people out of their weakness and sin one step at a time.

Francis Fenelon reminds us, “God is merciful, showing us our true hideousness only in proportion to the courage he gives us to bear the sight.

The chief thing is not to listen to yourself, but silently to give ear to God. It is to renounce all vanity, and apply yourself to real virtue. Talk little, and do much without caring to be seen. God will teach you more than all the most experienced persons or the most spiritual books can do. What is it you want so much to know? What do you need to learn but to be poor in spirit and to find all wisdom in Christ crucified? “Knowledge puffs up.” Only “love builds up.”5 Be content to aim at charity.

Fenelon-Barnes wanted the fossil trees he discovered to bear his name. He even wanted a tribe to take his name, and spent a year on the negotiations. Then Bauchan outdid him, having a type of sand dune named after him. But I wanted to erase my name and the place I had come from. By the time war arrived, after ten years in the desert, it was easy for me to slip across borders, not to belong to anyone, to any nation.

Is it possible to know you, dear God, and not love you? Your beauty, strength, grandeur, power, and goodness; your generosity, magnificence, and perfection of every kind—these are far beyond what any created being could understand. And what touches me in the depths of my heart is that you love me.

All war is civil war, for it is always man against man, spilling his own blood, tearing out his own entrails.

When you say, “It is impossible to do what is required of me,” this is a temptation to despair. Despair of yourself as much as you please, but not of God.

You yourself must endure the painful process of change. There is much more at work here than your instant maturity. God wants to build a relationship with you that is based on faith and trust and not on glamorous miracles.

François Fenelon urged: Tell [God] all that is in your heart, as one unloads one’s heart to a dear friend. . . . People who have no secrets from each other never want for subjects of conversation; they do not . . . weigh their words, because there is nothing to be kept back. Neither do they seek for something to say; they talk out of the abundance of their heart — without consideration, just what they think. . . . Blessed are they who attain to such familiar, unreserved intercourse with God.9

In God’s name I beseech you let prayer nourish your soul as your meals nourish your body. Let your fixed seasons of prayer keep you in God’s presence through the day, and His presence frequently remembered through it be an ever-fresh spring of prayer. Such a brief, loving recollection of God renews a man’s whole being, quiets his passions, supplies light and counsel in difficulty, gradually subdues the temper, and causes him to possess his soul in patience, or rather gives it up to the possession of God.—Fenelon

Godwin on Fenelon and his Valet * Following is an excerpt from William Godwin's Enquiry Concerning Political Justice, Book II, Chapter II: “Of Justice”: In a loose and general view I and my neighbour are both of us men; and of consequence entitled to equal attention. But, in reality, it is probable that one of us is a being of more worth and importance than the other. A man is of more worth than a beast; because, being possessed of higher faculties, he is capable of a more refined and genuine happiness. In the same manner the illustrious archbishop of Cambray was of more worth than his valet, and there are few of us that would hesitate to pronounce, if his palace were in flames, and the life of only one of them could be preserved, which of the two ought to be preferred. But there is another ground of preference, beside the private consideration of one of them being further removed from the state of a mere animal. We are not connected with one or two percipient beings, but with a society, a nation, and in some sense with the whole family of mankind. Of consequence that life ought to be preferred which will be most conducive to the general good. In saving the life of Fenelon, suppose at the moment he conceived the project of his immortal Telemachus, should have been promoting the benefit of thousands, who have been cured by the perusal of that work of some error, vice and consequent unhappiness. Nay, my benefit would extend further than this; for every individual, thus cured, has become a better member of society, and has contributed in his turn to the happiness, information, and improvement of others. Suppose I had been myself the valet; I ought to have chosen to die, rather than Fenelon should have died. The life of Fenelon was really preferable to that of the valet. But understanding is the faculty that perceives the truth of this and similar propositions; and justice is the principle that regulates my conduct accordingly. It would have been just in the valet to have preferred the archbishop to himself. To have done otherwise would have been a breach of justice. Suppose the valet had been my brother, my father, or my benefactor. This would not alter the truth of the proposition. The life of Fenelon would still be more valuable than that of the valet; and justice, pure, unadulterated justice, would still have preferred that which was most valuable. Justice would have taught me to save the life of Fenelon at the expense of the other. What magic is there in the pronoun “my,” that should justify us in overturning the decisions of impartial truth? My brother or my father may be a fool or a profligate, malicious, lying or dishonest. If they be, of what consequence is it that they are mine?

Soarta omului nu e altceva decât propria lui personalitate și ea se arată din leagăn. În zadar se spune că mediul social înrâurește și cioplește ființa omenească, el nu schimbă nimic. Acela care este sortit să conducă o băcănie va rămâne cu suflet și cu pricepere de băcan, chiar dacă se va fi născut în purpură și va fi avut dascăl pe vreun Fenelon, și chiar dacă mediul social îl împinge la cârma unui regat. Dimpotrivă, un altul care a venit pe lume pe un morman de gunoi și care a trăit numai printre haimanale poate să rămână neștiutor de carte toată viața, va fi totdeauna un gânditor și un focar de lumină, dacă tainicele cuptoare ale concepțiunii l-au făurit cu comori de gândire și cu simțăminte înalte. Dintr-un geniu bun, mediul social nu va face niciodată un geniu rău și nici o lichea. Din omul-păpușă va putea face, după voie: un negustor de vin sau un searbăd avocat. Asupra acestei păpuși, mediul social își va putea exercita toate influențele. Față de celălalt însă, va fi neputincios. Și, astfel, nimic nu va fi schimbat, nici într-un caz, nici în altul.

There is more danger in the risk of resisting God than in the heaviest of other sorrows. Crosses borne with quiet endurance, lowliness, simplicity, and self-denial unite us to Jesus Christ crucified, and work untold good. But crosses that we reject through thinking too highly of ourselves and through self-will separate us from him, contract the heart, and by degrees dry up the fountain of grace. Yield humbly, therefore, without trusting yourself, mere broken reed that you are, and say, “To him nothing is impossible.” He asks only one “Yes,” spoken in pure faith.

The greater our own self-love, the more severe critics we will be. Nothing is so offensive to a haughty, sensitive self-conceit as the self-conceit of others.

It is false humility to believe ourselves unworthy of God’s goodness and to not dare to look to him with trust.

Genuine good taste consists in saying much in few words, in choosing among our thoughts, in having order and arrangement in what we say, and in speaking with composure – Francois Fenelon

THE DANGERS OF HUMAN PRAISE Showing sorrow for sin and undergoing other humiliating circumstances are far more profitable than success. You know that your troubles made you find out what you never knew before about yourself, and I am afraid that the authority, the success, and the admiration that have now come your way will make you self-satisfied. Such self-satisfaction will mar the best-ordered life, because it is incompatible with humility. We can be humble only so long as we give attention to all our own infirmities. The consciousness of these should be predominant; the soul should feel burdened by them and groan under them, and that groaning should be as a perpetual prayer to be set free from “its bondage to decay,” and admitted into the “glorious freedom of the children of God.” 3 Overwhelmed by its own faults, the soul should feel it deserves no deliverance by the great mercy of Jesus Christ. Woe to the soul that is self-satisfied, that treats God’s gifts as its own merits, and forgets what is due to God! Set apart regular seasons for reading and prayer. Involve yourself in outward matters when it is really necessary, and attend more to softening the harshness of your judgment, to restraining your temper, and to humbling your mind than to upholding your opinion even when it is right. Finally, humble yourself whenever you find that an undue interest in the affairs of others has led you to forget the one all-important matter of yourself: eternity.

As Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambrai, put it, “There is no more dangerous illusion than the fancies by which people try to avoid illusion.

when your soul is active on its own—that is, active apart from the activity of the Spirit—then by its very nature its activity is forced and strained! The soul’s effort in prayer is always that of anxiety and striving.

All wars are civil wars, because all men are brothers. Francois Fenelon

Do not harass yourself with trying to excite an artificial sense of God's presence; far better is it, to abide His time quietly with a submissive heart.

For those at the tip of the spear, the end of the war was still a hazy concept. In the month of April 1945 the Americans suffered 10,677 killed in action—almost the same butcher’s bill as June 1944.

Many troopers discovered German invasion maps of England on the back of their Allied invasion maps of Germany.

Sin, the Fall, salvation, grace, election-how is it that they loom so large in the vocabulary of a movement which should have been Platonist, should have been theocentric? It is due, I think, to the overmastering influence of one man, St. Augustine. A Platonist if ever there was one, yet Fenelon quarried no material from him in writing the Maximes des saints. St. Augustine was a man in whom the moral struggle had become inextricably entwined with the search for God; further, he had to enter the lists against the great heresy of Pelagius, which sought to by-pass the mystery of redemption. Consequently, the doctrine of grace became a major preoccupation with him, and he darkened in, perhaps too unsparingly, the outlines of St. Paul's world-picture. Moreover, he sought to pluck the heart out of a mystery by his theory of the two rival delectations. If you avoided sin, it was only because conscious love for God then and there neutralized the attraction of it; your decision was made on a balance of motives. Exaggerated now from this angle, now from that, St. Augustine's theology has provided, ever since, the dogmatic background of revivalism.

A heated imagination, strong feelings, a world of argument, and a flow of words are really useless. The practical thing is to act in a spirit of detachment, doing what we can by God’s light, and being content with such success as he gives.

God does not transform you on a bed of light, life, and grace. His transformation is done on the cross in darkness, poverty, and death.

Why do we rebel against our prolonged trials? Because of self-love; and it is that very self-love that God purposes to destroy. As long as we cling to self, his work is not achieved.

You who have given yourself to the Lord during some pleasant season, please take note of this: If you gave yourself to Him to be blessed and to be loved, you cannot suddenly turn around and take back your life at another season… when you are being crucified!

Here is a true spiritual principle that the Lord will not deny: God gives us the cross, and then the cross gives us God. —Guyon

AS LONG AS YOU LIVE BY YOUR OLD NATURE YOU WILL BE open to all of the injustices of men. Your temper will get you into fights, your passions will clash with your neighbors, your desires will be like tender spots open to your enemies’ arrows. Everything will be against you—attacking you from all sides. If you live at the mercy of a crowd of greedy and hungry desires, then you will never find peace. You will never be satisfied because everything will bother you. You will be like an invalid who has been bedridden for many years—anywhere you are touched you will feel pain. Your self-love is terribly touchy. No matter how slightly it is insulted, it screams, “Murderer.” Add to this all the insensitivity of others, their disgust at your weakness (and your disgust at theirs), and you have the children of Adam forever tormenting each other. The only hope is to come out of yourself. Lose all your selfinterest. Only then can you enjoy the true peace reserved for “men of good will.” Such people have no other will but God’s. If you come to such a place, then what can harm you? You will no longer be attacked through your hopes or fears. You may be worried, inconvenienced, or distressed, but you can rest in Him. Love the hand that disciplines you. Find peace in all things—even in going to the cross. Be happy

COME OUT OF YOURSELF AS LONG AS YOU LIVE BY YOUR OLD NATURE YOU WILL BE open to all of the injustices of men. Your temper will get you into fights, your passions will clash with your neighbors, your desires will be like tender spots open to your enemies’ arrows. Everything will be against you—attacking you from all sides. If you live at the mercy of a crowd of greedy and hungry desires, then you will never find peace. You will never be satisfied because everything will bother you. You will be like an invalid who has been bedridden for many years—anywhere you are touched you will feel pain. Your self-love is terribly touchy. No matter how slightly it is insulted, it screams, “Murderer.” Add to this all the insensitivity of others, their disgust at your weakness (and your disgust at theirs), and you have the children of Adam forever tormenting each other. The only hope is to come out of yourself. Lose all your selfinterest. Only then can you enjoy the true peace reserved for “men of good will.” Such people have no other will but God’s. If you come to such a place, then what can harm you? You will no longer be attacked through your hopes or fears. You may be worried, inconvenienced, or distressed, but you can rest in Him. Love the hand that disciplines you. Find peace in all things—even in going to the cross. Be happy with what you have. Wish for nothing more. Surrender to God and find true peace. —Fénelon LIVE DAY BY DAY YOUR SPIRITUAL WALK IS A LITTLE TOO RESTLESS AND uneasy.

Follow Him simply wherever He may lead you and you will not have to think up big plans to bring about your perfection. Your new life will begin to grow naturally.

See God’s hand in the circumstances of your life. Do you want to experience true happiness? Submit yourself peacefully and simply to the will of God, and bear your sufferings without struggle.

When you come before the Lord, it is not necessary that you think upon the Lord. It is only necessary that you continue in your progress.

Do not let your natural activity consume you amid the irksome details around you. You cannot take too many pains to subdue

Naquele tempo o comércio dos livros era, como ainda hoje, artigo de luxo; todavia, apesar de mais baratas, as obras literárias tinham menor circulação. Provinha isso da escassez das comunicações com a Europa, e da maior raridade de livrarias e gabinetes de leitura. Cada estudante, porém, levava consigo a modesta provisão que juntara durante as férias, e cujo uso entrava logo para a comunhão escolástica. Assim correspondia São Paulo às honras de sede de uma academia, tornando-se o centro do movimento literário. Uma das livrarias, a que maior cabedal trazia a nossa biblioteca, era de Francisco Otaviano, que herdou do pai uma escolhida coleção das obras dos melhores escritores da literatura moderna, a qual o jovem poeta não se descuidava de enriquecer com as últimas publicações. Meu companheiro de casa era dos amigos de Otaviano, e estava no direito de usufruir sua opulência literária. Foi assim que um dia vi pela primeira vez o volume das obras completas de Balzac, nessa edição em folha que os tipógrafos da Bélgica vulgarizam pôr preço módico. As horas que meu companheiro permanecia fora, passava-as eu com o volume na mão, a reler os títulos de cada romance da coleção, hesitando na escolha daquele pôr onde havia de começar. Afinal decidia-me pôr um dos mais pequenos; porém, mal começada a leitura, desistia ante a dificuldade. Tinha eu feito exame de francês à minha chegada em São Paulo e obtivera aprovação plena, traduzindo uns trechos do Telêmaco e da Henriqueida; mas, ou soubesse eu de outiva a versão que repeti, ou o francês de Balzac não se parecesse em nada com o de Fenelon e Voltaire; o caso é que não conseguia compreender um período de qualquer dos romances da coleção. Todavia achava eu um prazer singular em percorrer aquelas páginas, e pôr um ou outro fragmento de ideia que podia colher nas frases indecifráveis, imaginava os tesouros que ali estavam defesos à minha ignorância. Conto-lhe este pormenor para que veja quão descurado foi o meu ensino de francês, falta que se deu em geral com toda a minha instrução secundária, a qual eu tive de refazer na máxima parte, depois de concluído o meu curso de direito, quando senti a necessidade de criar uma individualidade literária. Tendo meu companheiro concluído a leitura de Balzac, a instâncias minhas, passou-me o volume, mas constrangido pela oposição de meu parente que receava dessa diversão. Encerrei-me com o livro e preparei-me para a luta. Escolhido o mais breve dos romances, armei-me do dicionário e, tropeçando a cada instante, buscando significados de palavra em palavra, tornando atrás para reatar o fio da oração, arquei sem esmorecer com a ímproba tarefa. Gastei oito dias com a Grenadière; porém um mês depois acabei o volume de Balzac; e no resto do ano li o que então havia de Alexandre Dumas e Alfredo Vigny, além de muito de Chateaubriand e Victor Hugo. A escola francesa, que eu então estudava nesses mestres da moderna literatura, achava-me preparado para ela. O molde do romance, qual mo havia revelado pôr mera casualidade aquele arrojo de criança a tecer uma novela com os fios de uma ventura real, fui encontrá-lo fundido com a elegância e beleza que jamais lhe poderia dar.