And yet
are there, unperceived as it were by him, four or five men in the
midst of the glittering crowd hard by the monarch's throne, four or
five earnest benevolent faces on whom our eye still rests gladly;
though Saint-Simon gives them no special attention or thought, for
in his heart he looks with disfavour on the ideas that govern their
life. Fenelon is there; the Dukes of Chevreuse and Beauvilliers;
there is Monsieur le Dauphin. Their happiness is no greater than
that of the rest of mankind. They achieve no marked success, they
gain no resplendent victory, They live as the others live--in the
fret and expectation of the thing that we choose to call happiness,
because it has yet to come. Fenelon incurs the displeasure of the
crafty, bigoted king, who, for all his pride, would resent the most
trivial offence with the humbleness of humblest vanity; who was
great in small things, and petty in all that was great--for such was
Louis XIV. Fenelon is condemned, persecuted, exiled. The Dukes of
Chevreuse and Beauvilliers continue to hold important office at
Court, but none the less deem it prudent to live in a kind of
voluntary retirement. The Dauphin is not in favour with the King; a
powerful, envious clique are for ever intriguing against him, and
they finally succeed in crushing his youthful military glory.
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