'Y^iLEoWMHYiii^siiinf' Gift of CHARLES WILLIAM BARDEEN Yale 1869 1922 A TOUR TO ^let anti £a dlrantre Cfjattteuse, BY DOM CLAUDE LAJ^CELOT, AUTHOR OF THE PORT ROYAL GRAMMARS ; WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF THE MONASTERY AND , ABBOT REFORMER OF LA TRAPPE; ALSO BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF M. DU VERGER DE HAURANNE, ABBE DE ST. CYRAN, CORNELIUS JANSENIUS, BISHOP OF YPRES ; AND A BRIEF VIE-W OF THE CELEBRATED INSTITUTION OF By MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK, AXITHOR OF THEORY ON THE CLASSIFICATION OF BEAUTY AND DEFORMITY. A NARRATIVE OF THE DEMOLITION OF PORT ROYAL DES CHAMPS, &c. This is life eternal^ that they might know thee, the ordy true God, and Jesus Christ, whmn thou hast sent.— John, chap. xvii. v. 3. No vnan can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Spirit, — 1 Cor. . chap xii. v. 3. In every nation 'he thatfeareth God and.warketh righteousness, is acceptefk.'^ qfhiTn. — Acts, chap. x. v. 35. SECOND EDITION, CONSIDERABLY 'ENLARGED. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. IL LONDON: PRINTED FOR J. AND A, ARCH, CORNHILL. 1816, CONTENTS OF VOL. II. Cornelius Jansenius, p. l to 45. Page John Otto 1 M. du Vergier de Hauranne 2 Jansenius, Bishop of Ypres 6 Plague in Flanders 10 Death and Epitaph of Jansenius 12 Augustinus 14 Analysis of that work from Racine's Histoire Ec- clesiastique , . - 15 Jesuits 22 Publication of the Augustinus 26 Anecdote from Father du Chesne 2^ Father Cornet's five Propositions 29 Formula 30 Pacification of Clement the IXth 36 Port Royal sf Works of Jjnsenius . , . -44 vi CONTENTS OF VOL. II. Abbey or Port Royal, p. 46 to 297. Page Marie Jacqueline Angelique Arnauld .... 47 Emancipated Capuchin *° Discipline at Port Royal ^^ Journee du Guichet ^^ Catherine Agnes de St. Paul Arnauld .... 65 AnecdoteoftheAbbessesofPortRoyalandSt.Cyr 66 Reform ^^ Maubuisson "9 Madame d'Etrees ''0 M. Angelique's Commission from M. de Citeaux 83 Discipline of Maubuisson 85 Conduct of Madame de Port Royal 88 Madame Clery 99 Madame d'Etrees and the Comte de Sanze . . 106 Pontoise 116 Madame de la Serre 121 Port Royal des Champs and Port Royal de Paris 129 Family of Arnaulds 131 St. Francis de Sales and M. de St. Cyran . . . 136 Recluses of Port Royal 139 Their Maxims on the Study of Scripture . . . l42 On the Influence of the Holy Spirit and on Justifi* cation by Faith 144 Their Occupations 14S Schools of Port Royal 151 Re-establishment of Port Royal des Champs . • 153 Esprit of Port Royal . 156 contents of vol. ii. Vll Page Disinterestedness of that Community .... 159 The Lady Magdelena Briquet and the Countess de St, Eustoquie de Bregy 165 Generosity of the Abbess of Port Royal . . . 169 Her Charitable Institutions 173 Innocent Fai 185 Education of Port Royal 190 Largesses bestowed on Port Royal 197 War of Paris 206 Conduct of the Recluses 210 Sentiments of M, de Saci 215 Extracts from the Letters of the Abbesse of Port Royal to the Abbesse of Gif, and others . . 220 LaFerteMilon . 224 Jesuits, Casuists, and La Frequente Communion . ib. Resolutions against Port Royal 229 Tranquillity unexpectedly restored 230 The Duchess de Longueville 233 Fresh Persecution 235 Illness and death of M. Angelique 237 Her Character 276 Epitome and Conclusion of the History of Port Royal des Champs 279 Notes, p. 289 to 338. Extraits des Ecrits de M. M. de Port Royal, Sur I'Ecriture Sainte 299 Sur la Necessite de la Foi en Jesus Christ 309 Vlll CONTENTS OF VOL. II. Page St. Francis de Sales 318 Grande Chartreuse 321 Bishop of Alet ' ... 322 Bellarmin 323 ,M. de Ranc6 326 Addenda on la Trappe 327 James the Second's Visit to La Trappe .... 329 TOUR TO ALET, PORT ROYAL ESSAYS. CORNELIUS JANSENIUS, BISHOP OF YPRES, W AS a native of the village of Acquoy, near Leerdam, a small town in Holland. He was born on the 28th of October, 1585 ; his father's name was John Otto. Both his parents were zealous catholics. He first studied at Utrecht, and afterwards at the university of Lou vain. He soon be came the first student. It was at Louvain he first received the appellation of Jansen, or the son of John. It was afterwards Latinized, according to the custom then pre valent amongst authors. He has been ever since known by the nam of Jansenius. VOL. II. B His constitution, naturally weak, suffered by unremitting study. The physicians re commended a tour through France, Jan senius went to Paris in 1604, There he formed a close intimacy with M. du Ver gier de Hauranne, afterwards the celebrated Abbe of St, Cyran, Both had studied at Louvain. Abelli and Leydecker describe them as contem poraries there; and Dupin represerfts them as studying theology together under Fro- mond. Dom Lancelot asserts the contrary. He says that Jansenius, who was four years younger than M. du Vergier, immediately succeeded him at the university, and states their personal acquaintance as having com menced at Paris. However this may be, they soon became closely united. They studied together Greek, Hebrew, and Philosophy; nor was it long before they acquired a high reputation for their theolo gical learning. Jansenius still continued in ill health. His friend proposed ta him to quit Paris, and to become an inmate of his house at Bayonne. There they remained together six years. M. de Hauranne was chosen canon of the cathedral, and Jansenius was appointed head master of the college, newly established in that city. Their leisure hours were dedicated to the study of the Fathers, On the works of St. Austin they bestowed an especial degree of labor and attention. In the pages of this great lumi nary of the church, they soon either saw, or else fancied they saw, those doctrines of inamissible grace, which were the grouud- wot-k of their subsequent system. They imagined themselves arranging into one har monious knd well combined fabric, senti ments scattered throughout the pages of the venerable bishop of Hippo ; whilst they were in fact organizing that system, afterwards so distinguished by the name of Jansenism. A system, which, when published, was de nounced to the church as heretical. Nor didit only stigmatize the name of Jansenius with the odious appellation of Heresiarch; but it likewise subjected his friends to along series of cruel persecutions. B 2 4 The studies of M. de St. Cyran and his friend, were indefatigable. Madame de Hauranne, who kept her son's house, often interpo,s^d,: " I am really afraid, my dear son," she cOritinually said, " you will kill your good Fleming with so much hard study." : At the; expiration of six years, they re turned to Paris, They continued together a short time, Jansenius afterwards, in 1617, returned to Louvain. Two years after wards he obtained a doctor's diploma. He was invested also with the direction of the college of St. Pulcheria.* It was com pleted under his inspection, and the re gulations were instituted by him. In the * This College is now appropriated to a school, which is regulated in a manner which does equal honor to the piety and information of its conductor, Ma dame Parideans. Jn the^midst of the large gardens of thisexcellent Institution which overlook tbe gardens of various Monasteries, and whose views terminate at the wooded walks on the ramparts of Louvaine, is a sort of summer house, called the tower of Jansenius, where he is said to have composed most of his works. It is now, 1815, used as a gardener's tool and seed house. course ofthe years 1624 and 1625, he was twice deputed by the university tb the Spanish court. The object of this deputa tion was to oppose the Jesuits. They had attempted to establish professorships of their own at Louvain, which should have a power of conferring degrees, valid in the university. The college of Louvain suc ceeded in repressing their encroachments. The Jesuits never forgave Jansenius, About this period the reputation Of Jansenius began to be diffused throughout Europe. He published several theological works. They were laborious, and discover ed an uncommon depth both of piety and learning. They were consequently highly esteemed. Qne indeed of the works of Jansenius, entitled Mars Gallicus, gave a mortal of fence to Cardinal Richelieu, At the King of Spain's request, he had drawn a parallel between the state ofthe church iri France and in Spain, The result was decidedly in favor of the latter. This work appeared at the most unfortunate moment. It was just then suspected that Cardinal Richelieu wished to erect France into a patriarchal, and to become himself patriarch. Perhaps at no other juncture could it have been so unwelcome. Some have thought it was principally this circumstance which laid the foundation of that unrelenting animosi ty with which Cardinal Richielieu afterwards persecuted the Jansenists. The reputation of Jansenius increased rapidly. His learning had already obtained him the chancellorship of the university of Louvain, Bishoprics were often designed for him, but the influence of the Jesuits always prevented their being bestowed. At length his uncommon merit prevailed. His piety, notwithstanding all their cabals, gained him the bishopric of Ypres. He was consecrated on the 28th of October, 1636. • Scarcely was Jansenius seated in the episcopal chair, when the influence of his superior merits was felt. His piety, his hu manity, his assiduity, his self-denial, and his learning, were topics of universal observation. His erudition, indeed, had long obtained celebrity ; but raen forgot to notice his Christian virtues, till he was placed in a situation where themselves became partakers in their beneficial influence. The day he devoted to acts of charity, religious instruction, and visitations of his diocese. The night he dedicated, as he was us^d, to prayer and study. Even vvhilst at Bayonne, he seldom went to bed. A large old-fashioned chair, fitted up with cushions, and a writing-desk, was long exhibited at M. de St. Cyran's as the study of Jansenius. In this chair he was accustomed to read, to write, and to sleep. He usually passed the night in it. When overtaken by fatigue, he leaned back, dozed for a short time, and then resumed his studies. He scarcely ever slept more than four hours out of the twenty-four, Jansenius was a man of remarkably ab stemious and ascetic habits, Grace had entirely subdued his naturally warm temper, and had converted the impetuosity of a lion, into the patience and gentleness of a lamb. He was a man of primitive inte- grity, fervent faith, and a solid understand ing. His learning was not unworthy of comparison with that of the doctors of the Christian church; and his piety was worthy a true successor of the apostles. Yet the quality for which he was most peculiarly distinguished, was Christian watchfulness and circumspection. His piety attained to its uncommon growth and depth, not so much from any superior brightness of divine illumination, as by his peculiar assiduity in strictly attending to that light he had. Whilst at Bayonne, both himself and M. de St. Cyran had been peculiarly struck with the character of Abraham. This great patriarch had neither the advantages of the Christian, nor even of the Mosaic institution. The command he received from the Lord was. Walk before me, and be thou perfect. Abraham obeyed thecommand, and became the father ofthe faithful, and the friend of God. Owing to a contemplatipn of this passage, both M. de St. Cyran atld Jansenius were peculiarly attentive at all times to entertain a sense of the divine presencej and to walk as be fore God. The immense plenitude of spiritual riches which afterwards distin guished these great men, was almost entirely accumulated by a constant watch fulness over their own spirits, and self- denial in what are termed little things. The charities of Jansenius were extensive, but discriminating. His measure and mode of assisting his flock united an epis copal munificence with Christian humility, .simplicity, and love. He never seemed fatigued with serving the poor. Jansenius was no sooner elevated to the' see of Ypres, than he occupied himself in tracing a plan for effiecting a permanent reformation in his diocese. His scheme was said to have been as luminous, as his end was pious and benevolent. His beneficent projects were never ex ecuted. A raging plague broke out in Flanders. It more particularly desolated the neigh bourhood of Ypres. The inhabitants^ seized with consternation, fled in every 10 direction. Motives, neither of humanity nor lucre, coiild induce them to assist those afflicted with the distemper. In the midst of this fiery trial, the faith of Jansenius was clearly manifested. It stood unmoved, because it was founded upon Christ the rock. Calm amidst the dismayed multitude, he was seen in every place where the devouring contagion had spread. Every vyhere he appeared as a guardian angel amidst the sick and dying. Their most loathsome wounds he dreasesd with his own hands. The most infected abodes of wretchedness he entered in .per son, bringing food and medicines, when all others refused the task. Wretches abandoned by all, plundered and stripped of every thing, lying in the agonies of death, found in the Bishop of Ypres the most tender friend and compassionate bene factor. He was ever ready to pour divine truth into the heart, and to attempt to save the soul, even whilst the body lay in the very jaws of death. Wherever the infection raged, there was tbe good bishop 11 to be seen. If for a short time he was missed, .it was well known that he retired, not for the purpose of relaxation, but of in tercession and of prayer. The Lord, who remembers even a cup of C0I4 water bestowed in his name, beheld the labors of his faithful servant. His loving kindness honored with a martyr's crown, him who had performed a martyr's work. Jansenius was suddenly struck with the contagion. The Lord whom he served, saw he was prepared. He does not causelessly grieve the children of men, nor -willingly afflict with needless sufferings. A few hours suf ficed this highly favored servant to leave a glorious testimony behind. Then the Lord wa.s pleased immediately to remove him from persecutions on earth, to an incor ruptible and undefiled inheritance among his saints in heaven. He died on the 6th of May, 1638, He was buried in the ca thedral church of Ypres, His tomb was placed in the centre of the choir, A mo- 12 nument was erected over his remains, on which was inscribed an epitaph, which on account of its singular beauty, is here inserted. D. O. M. CORNELIUS JANSENIUS HIC SITUS EST Satis dixi Virtus eriidilio fama csetera loquentur Lovanii diu admirationi fuit Hie* incepit tantum Ad episcopale fasti gium evectus ut Belgio ostenderetur Utfulgur luxit et statim 'Extinctus est Sic humana omnia etiam brevia cum longa sunt ! Funera tamen suo superstes Vivet in Augustino Arcanarum cogitationum ejus Si quis unquam fidelissimus interpres Ingenium divinum studium acre vitam totam huic operi arduo et pio dederat et cum eo finitus est Ecclesia in terris fructum capiet Ipse in Coelis jam Mercedem Sic vive et apprecare lector Extinctus est contagio anno 1638 * Ypre, Pridie 13 Pridie nonas Mali aetatis anno nondum 53 Ypris in episcopale Palatio,* The general meaning of this beautiful epitaph might be thus rendered. The fol lowing is not, however, an exact translation. HERE LIES CORNELIUS JANSENIUS Enough His virtues erudition and celebrity speak the rest Long the admiration of Louvain He only here began to be so Raised to the episcopal dignity That he might astonish Flanders As lightning lie shone and was Exiinct . . So brief all human glory So short the longest course Yet shall he survive corruption His Spirit lives in Augustinus He penetrated into the soul of his author and (if any mortal ever did) he as a most faithful interpreter unfolded his recondite depths of thought To this sole pipus and arduous undertaking he dedicated • Affections most spiritual Researches most laborious and the whole of a life most precious » Necrol, torn, i, p. 187. Gerb. Hist. Jan. torn. ii. p. 267. He 14 He effected his work and with its completion expired The Church reaps the fruit of his labors on Earth Whilst he enjoys their /aW reward in Heaven. Reader so live ! Render thanksgivings and pour out thy soul in prayer. , He died of the pestilence Anno 1638 on the 6th of May in the 53d year of his age In the episcopal palace at Ypres, Jansenius was scarcely dead, when it was announced to the public that he had com pleted his Augustinus, A report too was circulated, that it was preparing for publi cation. It had, indeed, for some time, been generally known that the Bishop. of Ypres had been engaged in this work. The piety and erudition of the autlior had raised men's expectations very high. His enemies, on the other hand, anticipated its completion as the moment of malicious triumph. The little flock of M. de St. Cyran had began to be more known in France. Their holy lives and deep devotion were indeed more ostensible than the peculiarities of their dogmas. Nevertheless, sufficient was 15 known of the latter to inspire the Jesuit^ with a hope of being able to affi.K some imputation of heresy on the work of Janse nius, The Bishop of Ypres had, however, ta ken precautions which ought to have effec tually disarmed the malice of his enemies. Whilst he had always, with the most un- djyinted boldness, defended the Christian faith, it soon appeared that he felt the most profound humility respecting his own expo sition of contested dogmas. The work of Jansenius was entitled, Au gustinus Covnelii Jansenii episcopi, seu doctri na sancti Augustini de humana natura sanc- titate agritudince, medica adversus Pelagianos etMassilienses, Louvain, 1640; and at Rome, 1652, in fol. This work is divided into three parts. In the first, the learned author presented a lu minous and very detailed exposition of the errors of tl^e Pjelagians, and Semi-pelagians. In this part pf it, he frequently attacked Molina, Lessius, and all the theolpgians of the day, who came under the description 16 of quietists. In the second part, he treats of divine grace : he speaks of the happiness enjoyed by angels in heaven, and by man in paradise. Ev^ry thing which St. Augus- tin has said relative to these subjects, is here arranged and combined in one whole ; and all those objections are discussed, which are generally opposed to those doctrines, called by their partisans, the doctrines of grace. From thence he proceeds to describe the state of man after the fall : he describes his guilt and misery, and explains, in the words of St, Austin, the nature and fatal consequences of original sin. He declares that all men are born in sin, and are, by nature, children of wrath. That all are guilty before God, and that they remain under the dominion of sin, dead in trespasses and sins, and sitting in thick darkness, till the grace of the Saviour shall arise to give them light ; and till he, who is the resur rection and the life, shall call them from a state of spiritual death, and command their bonds to be loosed. He then enters at large into the various arguments, by which 17 many excellent men have been led to think that grace irresistible and inamissible.* In the third part of this elaborate work, Jansenius treats of the remedy of the fallen soul, and of its re-establishment in the liberty of the children of God, This division of his subject exhibits uncom mon erudition. Every sentence scattered throughout the voluminous works of St. Austin, which could possibly bear on the subject, is here collected into one focus, and arranged with the utmost perspicuity and exactness.* The outlines of this work had been traced in conjunction with M. de St. Cyran at Bayonne. Its completion occupied the ve nerable author above twenty years. During this period, he had ten times read through the whole of St. Augustin's works, and thirty times carefully perused and compar- » Diet, Hist, art, Jansenius, Gerb, Hist. Jansen, torn. i, pp, 4, 5, 6. Rae, Hist, Eccles. xi. pp. 9, 10, to 17' VOL. JI. C 18 ed those parts of them relating to the Pela gian controversy. In addition to this immense labor, Jan senius had also thoroughly studied, and ac curately collated, every passage throughout the voluminous works of the Fathers, which has any connexion with, the doctrines in Question. When we consider that Janse nius digested and arranged in twenty years the whole mass of sacred literature accu mulated in thirteen centuries, it excites as tonishment that so short a period could have sufficed to the execution of such a per formance. To this grand undertaking his life had been devoted : he lived to finish it. This great work, so long meditated, so deeply studied, so assiduously revised; this work, doubtless so sincerely intended, (though in the event, celebrated almost alone for the evils it occasioned) this work was completed the very day on which Jansenius expired. Its truly admirable author acted as though he had foreseen the ferment to which it 19 \vpuld give rise. His very last act mani fested his deep humility, and his entire submission to a church, which he believed, guided by the immediate influence of the divine Spirit. With his dying hand he wrote a letter to Pope Urbari VIIL, submitting his un published work to his inspection. In this letter he gave up the whole manuscript to the decision of the Romish see, and autho rized the pontiff to alter or to rescind any part of it. Some of his expressions are to the following effect : " The expressions of St, Augustin are peculiarly profound. The yarious modes in which his writings have been interpreted, prove at once the diffi culty of the exposition j and the incompcr tence of the expositors. Whether I have been more fortunate, whether I speak ac cording to truth, or whether I am deluded by my own conjectures, can only be known by submitting my whole work to the test ; to that true and infallible hghti before which the illusive glare of false splendor disap pears; to that divine touch-stone, at whose c 2 20 touch every thing is ground to powder which possesses not the solidity of truth, — I therefore now lay my work at the feet of your holiness, I submit its contents im- pHcitly to your decision, approving, con demning, advancing, or retracting, what ever shall be prescribed by the thunder of the apostolic see." Persons will differ in opinion as to the propriety of choosing such an umpire. None probably will, however, disagree as to the propriety of such an one having been chosen by Jansenius, a catholic bishop. Whatever conclusion be formed of the mea sure it.self, there are surely none who name the name of Christ, but what must vene rate the truly Christian humijity of heart, by which it was dictated. The letter of Jansenius was suppressed by his executors, ¦ They probably foresaw the opposition of the Jesuits, and feared, lest through their influence, the work should be suppressed altogether. However this may be, the existence of such a letter was never suspected, till the reduction of Ypres 21 by the arms of Louis XIV.- It then fell into the hands of the great Conde. He first made it public, Jansenius had taken a double precaur- tion. Just before his death he made a will. By this instrument he unreservedly aban doned both himself and his book to the judgment and authority of the see of Rome. The following are his very words. He dic tated them half an hour before his death. " Sentio aliquid difficulter mutari. Si ta men Romana sedes aliquid mutari velit j sum obediens filius j et illius ecclesice ih qud semper vixi usque ad hunc ledum mortis obediens sum. Ita postrema voluntas mea est. Actum sextd Maii, 1638," That is, " I feel that it will be difficult to alter any thing. Yet^ if the Romish see should wish any thing to be altered, I am her obedient son ; and to that church*in which I have always lived, even to this bed of death, I will prove obe dient. This is my last will. Done 6th of May, 1638." . Such were the sentiments entertained by Jansenius to the end of his life. It is not 22 a little surprising, to find him erected into an heresiarch immediately after his death. Scarcely had Jansenius expired, when his executors hastened to disregard his will, and his opponents to insult his memory. The Jesuits used all their influence to obtain the suppression of the work. The executors, on the contrary, strained every nerve to expedite the publication. They dreaded the credit of the Jesuits with the court of Rome, On this account they wished the book to appear, before Rome had given her decision. Meanwhile, numberless pamphlets were circulated on either side. Whilst all good men must deplore the inveterate virulence which instigated the persecuting Jesuits, may not many persons join the wise and amiable Fenelon in re gretting the ardor of zeal wi% which the Jansenists were animated in defending an obscure, and merely speculative doctrine ? It might be observed, that good men are never likely to espouse a cause which has not some important truth for its ground. 23 work: but, on tlie other hand, that they are never so likely to exaggerate it, to mis apply it, and to overlook the antagonist truths which Iceep it in its due sphere of action, as when they are defending it against an opponent who is engaged in its Overthrow. If this be the case, it may, perhaps, be thought that Jansenius would have done more wisely, had his system been founded on the works of St. Austin, pre vious to his discussions with Pelagius, and had he received with a prudent caution what that great saint wrote under the heat ed influence of a warm and animated con troversy. The church of Christ is separated from infidels by holding truth in opposition to falsehood. But the members of Christ are severed from each other generally, by hold ing distinct truths exclusively; and by thus placing in opposition those truths they should hold in combination. Thus has it been with the grand principles of divine grace, which honors God, our Sovereign benefactor; and of free-will, which glori- 24 fies God, our impartial judge. Concluding, that if the one of these great truths were admitted, the other must be combated, the bulk of the professing wgrld has continually been vibrating between the alternate ex tremes of antinomian fatalism, and pharisaic self-righteousness. And whilst each party has reaped the benefit of the truth it held, each has suffered from the equally impor tant one it unadvisedly rejected. From the times of the Pharisees and Sadducees, the Pelagians and Augustinians, the Jesuits and Jansenists, to the Armlnians and Cal- vinists of the present day, the evils of such discussions have been sufficiently manifest. Whilst the true Christian deplores the mis chiefs these controversies have occasioned to the speculative contrbvertists on either side, he rejoices to see the most eminently pious on both sides led by the grace of God to receive in their hearts, even those very truths which formed the stumbling- block to their understanding. Who that has chosen that more excellent way of love the apostle speaks of, will not join in say-. 25 in^ with St, Austin in his epistles, Si non est gratia Dei, quomodo salvat mundum ? Si non est liberum arbitrium, quomodo judicat mundum P If there be not (sovereign) free grace, how does God (graciously) save the world ? If there be not (unriestricted) free will, how can God (righteously) judge the world ? When points terminating in speculation divide Christians, the church may well mourn. Toall, such controversies are dan gerous. On merely carnal professors, they operate as a blind, veiling from their own mind the real motives which induce them to attack their more spiritual brethren. Whilst , the mind is occupied in combating the specu lative opinions of good men, the-heart which instigated the attack, is often set on by a lurking enmity against the piety connected with them. The corruption of the carnal .heart is really kindled against divine truth. Its blows are in reality aimed against her, whilst it screens itself under the specious pretence of attacking the extraneous opi- 26 nions casually connected with her. The M'ord of God itself cannot be broken. It is only when good men unwarily connect their own speculations with revealed truth, that they present a point vulnerable to the at tacks of their adversaries. Nor is contro versy perhaps less dangerous to the truly pious. With them it is but too apt to prove a snare. They forget the compara tive importance of primary truths, whilst their strength is expended in maintaining opinions alike doubtful and unimportant'. It is lamentable to employ the arms with which men should combat for Christ, in fruitless contentions against their brethren. In controversies vain as they regard truth, but fatal as they respect love. How often have theological disputations on non-essen tial points, proved the breach of the church, and the strong hold of infidelity ! Two years after it was first announced, the work of Jansenius made its appearance. War was immediately re-kindled by the Jesuits with redoubled animosity. Multi- 27 tudes of publications appeared against the Augustinus. Had they stopped there, it had'been well. Some amongst the Jesuits were not con tent with attacking the reputation of Jan senius, and with traducing as an heresiarch, a man who had lived the life of a saint, and who had died, not only in communion with the church, but exercising the sacred func tions of^a bishop. Their rancorous malice even pursued his remains beyond the grave. About midnight, on the 10th of Decem ber, 1657, the inscription over the grave of Jansenius was surreptitiously removed, and the tomb^ itself so completely de molished, that not a vestige remained. Next morning the chapter of Ypres dis covered the indignity offered to their bishop. They were highly incensed, both at this treatment of their pastor, and at the insult to their authority. There was, however, no remedy, as it appeared, on inquiry, to have been done by the bishop succeeding Jansenius, at the instigation of the Jesuits. In the year 1672,* a second epitaph. 28 written on a plain white marble slab, was placed where the monument had stood. This latter inscription consisted merely of the two first lines of the former one, with the age and date. Yet, although it con veyed no eulogium, it was not suffered to continue. The Jesuits were so inveterate in their animosity, that they had it removed in less than a month after it was placed. A simple cross pattee on the paving-stone which covered his grave, was the only mark which distinguished the place of his interment. In the year 1733, a fact was revealed to the world, which had never till then been sus pected. It was announced in the Histoire du Baianisme, page 344, published by Tather du Chesne. This Jesuit asserts, that when the monument of Jansenius was first destroyed, his body was torn from the grave, and disposed of elsewhere, A few years afterwards the cathedral was fresh paved. No trace now remains to mark the sepulchre of Jansenius. His arms, indeed, on one of the pillars* of the church, still re- 29 cord his burial to have been within its precincts. Notwithstanding the efforts of the Jesuits, the work of the Bishop of Ypres appeared in print about two years after the death of its author. The name of Jansenist was now for the first time heard. It was affixed to the friends of M. de St, Cyran, by those who wished to imply that their system was a new heresy, first broached by Jansenius. They called themselves the disciples of St, Augustin, Much had been written on both sides. Many vexatious and oppressive proceedings had been resorted to on the part bf the Jesuits, and much had been endured on that of the Jansenists, At length,' Father Cornet, a Jesuit, and syndic of the faculty, produced five pro positions. They were, it was insinuated, extracted from the work of Jansenius. These propositions were worded with the most artful ambiguity. The phrases were so contrived, as to be capable of two con structions, widely differing from each other. so Taken in one point of view, the terms em ployed had a considerable resemblance to some used by Jansenius, On the other hand, they were affixed to such different ideas, and applied so differently, that the meaning obviously conveyed was, in some instances, absolutely opposite to his. This paper, so carefully worded, and maliciously constructed, was laid before the Sorbonne, and before the apostolic see, as containing dangerous, false, and heretical doctrine. It underwent a long and animated dis cussion. At length, the desired verdict was obtained. It was pronounced heretical, first by the Sorbonne, and afterwards by a bulle of Innocent X, A general assembly of the French clergy was summoned. Al most all the dignitaries of the Galilean church attended. With a very few excep tions, they united in the proscription of the new heresy. The Jesuits had now gained their point. It was proposed and determined to draw up a formula, recapitulating the five proposi tions, and subjoining to them a declaration, 31 that they were heretical, A decree was then issued, commanding the formulary to be signed by all religious houses, by all the clergy, by all who instructed children, and by all who pretended to benefices or orders. The Jesuits already anticipated a triumph. They congratulated themselves on having laid a snare, into which they thought it im possible the friends of M. de St, Cyran could avoid falling. Should they sign the insidious formulary, it would involve the condemnation of their own works, and con sequently of themselves. If, on the con trary, they refused their signatures, their heresy would be manifest. They would in cur the most serious consequences by setting at nought the bulle of Pope Innocent. The measures of the Jesuits were already laid. They only awaited a refusal of Signature on the part of the Jansenists, as the ex pected signal to begin a vigorous persecur tion. In this calculation they were dis appointed. The Jansenists unanimously signed the paper; each at the same time adding a line to ^is signature, denying the 32 propositions to be in the book of Jansenius, and pointing out wherein they differed. The Jesuits were enraged at having been thus foiled. They were not however, de terred from their aim, A second applica tion was made to the court of Rome. Another bulle was prepared, the terms of which were more explicit than those of the former. On the l6th of November, 1656, a bulle was fulminated by Alexander VII. confirming that of Innocent. It likewise ¦n-roceeded to declare, that the propositions were not only heretical, but that they were likewise extracted from Jansenius. It con cluded by expressly declaring, that the sense in which they were condemned, was the one in which they were stated in his Augustinus, This bulle was no sooner poblished, than the bishops, under the influence of the Jesuits, drew up a second formulary. The words were express. It was calculated, they thought, to afford no means of escape. It was conceived in the following terms : " I condemn from vay inijiost soul, and by 3S word of mouth, the doctrine of the five propositions, which are contained in the work of Cornelius Jansenius. A doctrine which is not that of St. Augustin, whose sentiments Jansenius has misinterpreted." Such was the celebrated formulary, dic tated by the malice, pnd extorted by the intrigue of the Jesuits. It proved the signal of all tbe persecutions that ensued. When presented to the Jansenists, they all with one accord refused their signature. They unanimously declared, that the catholic church, whilst she asserts the di-- tine authority of the Apostolic see on sub jects of faith, yet allows her only a human judgment as to matters of fact. The Scrip ture, which cannot be broken, promises that divine influence of the Holy Spirit, which enables the church infallibly to dis tinguish true from false doctrine.- But whence is the authority, and where is the necessity of divine revelation to instruct her in matters of fact? From their very nature they are objects of sense, not of faith j and therefore belong to the province of reason, VOL, II, D not of revelation. The heresy of the pro positions was, they admitted, an object oi faith; their having. been advanced by Jan senius they contended to be a matter of fact. With respect then to their heretical nature, they cordially united with their brethren, and they implicitly submitted to the para mount authority of the apostolic see. With regard to the alleged fact, that such pro positions were actually contained in the work of Jansenius, they could not but con sider it as coming solely under the cogni zance of individual judgment. Whilst then they yielded a blind obedience to Rome as to the former; they preserved the liberty of maintaining a respectful silence regarding the latter. No sooner was this answer returned, than the persecution burst forth from every quarter. The court, the Jesuits, and the clergy, united with one consent to oppress the Jansenists, Excommunications, fines, and cruel banishments, and rigorous im prisonments were every where inflicted. The state prisons became thronged. The; 35 threats of fire and of poison were not with held. The Bastille was crowded with vic tims. Even recesses in the passages were converted into temporary cells. Many of the peaceful inhabitants of Port Royal were torn from their beloved seclu sion. The recluses underwent cruel suffer ings in the Bastille ; and a number of the nuns were separately imprisoned in different convents. There they were confined in narrow cells, and closely guarded. They were not only deprived of the necessary comforts of life, but were otherwise treated with disgraceful inhumanity. The nuns to whom they were committed, were mis guided by those blind guides, of whom the Scripture declares, that they compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and at length render him tenfold more the child of error than themselves. They forgot their religious characters, and commenced ruth less jailers. They persecuted the children of the Most High, and they deluded them selves into the idea that they were doing God service. t) 2 36 A short respite was at length obtained. In this pacification Madame de Longue ville took the most distinguished part. This princesse was possessed of extensive influence; her political talents procured her great respect, and her beauty and wit rendered her generally beloved. At her instigation, and under her patronage, the Archbishop of Sens, and the Bishop of Chalons and some others, drew up a plan for an accommodation. The duchesse of Longueville iivrot page 9S, 103 sire, to be thus ungratefully profaning the temples of that God, whose arm has so signally conducted you through unpa ralleled difficulties; and who only seated you upon the throne, that your Majesty might be the example of the court, and the guardian ofthe morals of your nation ?"* The whole assembly were for an instant silent with astonishraent; then the King arose, and most respectfully reconducting the virtuous nun to the door of the en closure, he immediately withdrew with all his riotous companions.* Meanwhile the prayers and tears of Ma dame de Cleri, were not lost: her con scientious obedience to the light she had, ascended as a memorial before God : and though many years intervened, yet when the Mere Angelique and her nuns did arrive, they were hailed by Madame de Clerif and her'faithful corapanions, as mes- * » See note f, page 98. 4 This excellent nun becaine under the M. Angelique, and Suireau des Anges, a most exemplary and devoted 104 sengers from heaven. Thus, even in the degraded and iniquitous Abbey of Mau-* buisson, though encompassed by vice with- Ghristian, She lived to a very advanced age, and 'her Slight became, much affected, notwithstanding which,' when she was past eighty, she was to be seen every; morning at matins, reading her Homily by the light of four 'large wax tapers, which, four novices held near her for that purpose, God whom she had so faithfully served, according to her degree of light, bestowed upop her the blessing of a most happy and edifying death.' Her last illness continued eight days, during which she, enjoyed great peace. Her joy increased as she ap-, proached death. Beginning to be in the agony of death, she asked the M, Suireau des Anges, who never left her,' to send in for the nuns to sing the creed with her, that she might joyfully declare her profession of faith. ,This was done, the sisters standing in two rows, and singing antiphonally. She then recounted the inercies of her life, how it had pleased God to answer her prayers, and lead her from darkness into hi* marvellous light. She then said, with extraordinary joy, we must praise God, I much wish the Te Deum to be sung. Instantly the Abbess des Anges ordered it to be done. The precentness began, and the whole choir followed. As they sung the very words, " In te, Domine, speravi, non confundar in seternum." The good mother breathed her. last, in a joy and peace which 105 out, and tried by darkness and ignorance within; we see that where two or three faithful, though uninstructed servants of God, were gathered together, in the name of Christ ; he condescended to be indeed in the midst of thera, and did not fail to answer their prayer, to deliver, and to bless them. The reforraation having been happily effected in this monastery ; month after month passed away, with every prospect of increasing peace and tranquillity. The community of Maubuisson, became daily more reconciled to the change ; the novi ces increased in piety, and abounded mote and more in good works. Aud the- M, Angelique and her companions, finding their labor become lighter every day, began to promise themselves soon to reap an abundant harvest ; when a totally unexpec ted event frustrated all their expectations.* passes all understahding,-^See Vie de Suyreau des Anges, pp.*58, 59. Also Ei^ogne, torn. i. pp. 234, 235. Also Dam Clemencet, tgm. iii. p. 28. • Poulain, tom. i. p, 34 to 28. Besonge, tom, i. 106 Madame d'Etrees, whom the reader will recollect we left under the protection of the Filles Penitentes de St, Marie, contrived on the 10th of September, 1619, to escape from her exile. This she effected by the assistance of her brother-in-law, the Count de Sanz6, and a company of young men of his acquaintance, who had been in the habit, as it was before observed, of loitering away most of their time at the Abbey.* She arrived at Maubuisson, at six o'clock in the morning, with a numerous escort, all strongly armed. The porter of the outer gate having refused them admittance, the Count de Sanze and his party, instantly burst it open ; and after severely beating, and otherwise ill using the servant, they proceeded with Madame d'Etrees directly to the church. The nave of enclosure, which separates the door common to the m ' ' — " —-—¦'¦¦¦¦¦ I ^M^^M^ p, 102 to 108, Clemencet, tom. i. p. 99 to 102, Racine, Hist. Ab, de, P, R. p. 10 to 12. Racine, Hist, Ecclei. torn. X, p, 476. * See note, page 105. 107 parish congregation, from the internal choir appropriated to the nuns, would, she knew, be opened to her by the Mere de la Serre, bne of the ancient community of Maiibuis- .5on, who had been formerly associated with her in all her scandalous excesses. This nun tiad secretly kept up a constant correspon dence with Madarae d'Etrees; and had contrived to obtain a false key for the purpose.* Accordingly, she found the nun waiting at the appointed door, which was imme diately opened for her admittance,* The first person Madame d'Etrees hap pened to meet, was the M, Angelique her self. She did not betray the least embarrass ment, or even surprize, at so totally unex pected a rencounter. Her calmness rather disconcerted Madame de Maubuisson, who said to her, with considerable eraotion, ** You, Madarae de Port Royal, have for a sufficient length of tirae usurped the place which belongs only to rae ; being now re- * See note, page 105. 108 turned to ray own house, you will see the necessity for your immediate departure,"* " Madame," replied the M. Angelique, with perfect calmness, but with respect, "I am perfectly ready to quit this house, as soon as our common superiors allow me my dismission," She then herself conducted Madame d'Etrees to the Abbesse's lodge ; the apartments of which in this royal esta blishment were unusually spacious and magnificent; and which during the supe riority of Madame d'Etrees had been fur nished very expensively, and with peculiar taste and elegance. Instead of the sumptu ous decorations with which it had been formerly adorned, she found it furnislied in the plainest manner ; and the most spacious apartments having been converted into an infirmary, there happened to be two nuns in one of them, who had been exceedingly ill, and who having that day taken medi cine, were then confined to their beds.* Madame d'Etrees could no longer con- * See note, page 105. 109 tain her indignation; but turning frora her forraer friends, with an air of loathing and contempt, she disdainfully said to the M. Angelique, who accompanied her, " I de sire these filthy and disgusting creatures inay be. instantly taken away ; and that I may be no longer exposed to such an of fensive- sight !" " Madame," replied the M, Angehque, coolly, " if this apartment is not in a proper condition to receive a Lady Abbess, I trust you will consider it an excusable circumstance, since the honor of your ladyship's company was so wholly unexpected."* The Abbess however, chose to remain in her own apartment ; where the M, Ange lique sjleft her, to arrange and lock up her papers; after which she went down herself into the kitchen, to order Madamie d'Etrees a proper dinner^and suitable attendance.* She gave directions to the nuns as to eyery particular; that Madame d'Etrees might be served with the dignity belonging * See note, page 105, 110 to her rank and office, and that every thing might be done without trouble or confu sion,* It was then service time. High mass was solemnly chanted in horror of the Ab besse's return. When it was over, Madame d'Etrees went all over the house, visiting every nun in particular, and endeavoring by every persuasion in her power, to gain over those of the old community to join her party. With a very few she succeeded ; but most of them would not even listen to her, being already sincerely attached to the M, Angelique,* Madame d'Etrees having asked two of thera for the set of keys belonging to the house, they answered, " that they had de livered up the kfeys into the hands of Ma dame de Port Royal," The word Madame, grievously offended the Abbess, who in dignantly exclaimed, " Madame! There is in this house no Madame but myself"* Dinner hour being arrived ; a very hand- * See note, page 105, Ill sorae dinner was served to Madarae d'Etrees in the Abbesse's apartment ; whilst the M. Angelique went as usual into the refectory, to dine with the nuns. Before she sat down to table, sbe briefly informed thera of what was passing, and exhorted thera to be pre pared to encounter sorae fatigue before the day was over,* After dinner, the Bernardino monk, who had so negligently filled his office of con fessor, under Madarae d'Etrfees, sent to re quest an audience of the M. Angelique in the parlor. His object was, to endeavour by gentle means to persuade her to with draw. To persuasions succeeded threats of the vengeance of the Count de Sanze ; but finding all in vain, Madame de Maubuisson joined her expostulations; she 'concluded by saying, " that she hoped Madame de Port Royal would rather take her departure quietly, than provoke them to resort to mea sures of violence ; the bounds of which she niight not be able to control."* * See note, page 105, 112 The M, Angelique answered, " that be ing a nun, she was bound by her vows of enclosure ; and that therefore nothing short of the authority of her superiors, or of foreign force, could compel her to quit the house where she was,"* Madame d'Etrees seeing the day wear away, and that nothing was to be gained ; resolved to expel her from the monastery by artifice or violence,* She therefore assumed a cordial manner, and proposed to Madame de Port Royal, that they should all go together to the church,* The little band of the M, Angelique ac companied their spiritual mother, and hav ing entered the church, the whole of this pious company knelt down, to recommend themselves to God, under the strange pre dicament in which they were then circum stanced.* Then, Madame d'Etrees, spying her op portunity, whispered to the ancient nuns * See note, page 105. 113 of Maubuisson, to seize the M. Angelique, and thrust her out by force through the door of enclosure : but they, not chusing to take any part in the business ; she, with her own hands endeavoured to drag the M. Angelique frora the place where she was kneeling, close to the door of the choir, which opens into the external church: at the sarae tirae screaming out for help, as though she had been herself attacked. At this concerted signal, Madame de la Serre instantly opened the external door with her false key, and the Count de Sanze and all his corapany, rushed in with drawn swords; shouting and brandishing their glittering blades around the head of the Abbess, who still kneeling, preserved a calra and placid countenance. The Count de Sanze enraged, then put his pistol to her breast; and one of his corapanions actually fired one, in order to frighten the M. Angelique; and to in duce her, in the panic, to pass, of her own accord, through the open door ; which seera ed her only escape, as they surrounded VOL. II, I 114 her, and crowded in upon her with drawn weapons, in every other direction,* But all these artifices leaving the Abbess. in the most perfect tranquillity, and her countenance not betrayingtheleastemotion; Madame d'Etrees, the Count de Sanze, the Bernardino confessor, and the young men, seized her by force, and thrust her out of the monastery.* Madame d'Etrees was very anxious to have turned her out alone, and to retain all the nuns ; but in this attempt she was foiled, for the whole company, seeing their Mother about to be thrust out, instantly rose frora their knees ; with several of the original coraraunity of Maubuisson, and rushed in a crowd after her towards the open door: sO that although Madame d'Etrees closed it as quickly as she possibly could, above thirty persons had made their escape and joined the M, Angelique.* Two of the M, Angelique's nuns did not go out with her. One of them, a * See note, p. 105. 115 postulant, chanced to be occupied at the time in the dairy, which was a very large one, and of which she had the general superintendence. It was situated under ground, owing to which she heard nothing ofthe scene of confusion and uproar above. In, the evening, her work being done, she returned up stairs. Her amazement was indescribable, at beholding herself in the midst of a company of strangers, and at seeing, as she anxiously looked round, no thing but faces wholly unknown to her.* When the business was fully explained to her, she requested to quit the house, and on Madame d'Etrees's peremptory refusal, she replied firmly : " Madame, you will have the goodness to recollect that I am not one of the former nuns of Maubuisson. I am not therefore your nun, nor are you my Abbess ; if I ara detained after the departure of my Abbess, it will be a false imprisonraent, not a monastic enclosure. I advise you, Ma dame, to consider the consequences of such a * See note, p. 105. I 2 116 <^etention, I demand an instant liberation."* Madame d'Etrees" instantly opened the door to her,* The M, Angelique, finding herself thus unexpectedly destitute of house and home, collected the whole of her little company, and kneeling down in the open air, be sought the Lord, whose cause had brought them there, to direct their steps and tp provide for thera, "I- They then rose up, and the M. Ange lique arranging them two and two, as in a ¦solemn procession, they began slowly to walk towards the town of Pontoise. The postulants walked first, then the novices ; to them succeeded the original nuns of Mau buisson, and lastly of all, the nuns of Port Royal and herself. In- this manner they entered the town, walking two and two in profound silence, with their great veils let * See note, p. 105. t Poulain, i. p. 27 to 30. Besogne, i. p. 107 to 110. Clemencet, i. p. 98 to 103, Racine, Hist. Ecc. X. pp. 476, 477, Racine, Hist. Abregee de P. R. p. IL 117 down, their eyes cast down upon the earth, and their hands joined in prayer,* The inhabitants of the town, meanwhile, could not imagine the meaning of this un usual procession,* Some supposed it must be a religious ceremony ; others thought, perhaps, it was .some new coraraunity of nuns about to be established in their town ; others, however, who recognised the dress of the order, and who well knew the character of Madarae de Maubuisson, had some shrewd suspicions of what had actually happened.* The whole town was soon collected; and all were in admiration of the modesty, de votion, and holy tranquillity of their de meanour.* The M. Angelique conducted her daugh ters to the first church which they met with, which happened to be that of the Jesuits.* There, the Grand Vicaire of Pontoise, and Dr, Duval, who entertained a high re spect for her, came to deliberate with the M. Angelique, on the steps proper to be II * See note ¦[, p, 116, 118 taken under so unprecedented a conjunc ture,* The news was quickly circulated throughout Pontoise and its whole neigh bourhood,* The Carmelites, Ursulines, and almost every other religious establishment, or private gentleman's house, offered an asylum to this peripatetic community.* It was at length decided they should take possession of the grand Vicariat; which the grand Vicaire and the Doctor had the hospitality to cede to the M. Angelique, until tranquillity should be again restored in the Abbey of Maubuisson.* Before the nuns quitted the church, they said Vespers together ; after which they sat "out in procession as before, to take posses sion of their temporary abode.* The whole town flocked together to be hold so edifying and unusual a spectacle.* The people all stood with their hats off, and the crowds opened to let them pass, gazing upon them in silence, and many • See note f, page 116. 119 knelt out of respect ; and seeing the nuns walk with clasped hands, sympathetically united with them in prayer.* On reaching the Grand Vicariat, they found the kindness of the inhabitants al ready occupied in anticipating every want.* Beds, fire wood, kitchen utensils, food,, money, every thing in short which could possibly be of any use to them, poured in with a profuse abundance on every side ; so that in the course of a very few hours, the community appeared completely establish ed ; and the next day, they were found proceeding with the same regularity, and tranquillity as if nothing unusual had hap pened.* The abode of the M. Angelique and her nuns was not however of long duration. The Porter ofthe Monastery of Maubuis son, ; whom the, Count de Sanze had so cruelly beaten, made the best of his way on foot to Paris: where he immediately went to M, Arnauld's familyy and gave * See note t. page 116. 120 them full information of the whole busi ness,* M, de Citeaux did not continue long unapprised of what had passed ; so that a warrant being obtained next morning, before evening, the civil officers arrived at Maubuisfeon, with a company of two hun dred and fifty Archers, Madame d'Etrees, who suspected the consequences of her unadvised measures, had taken the precaution of posting sen tinels on the various roads, to watch, and give her intelligence if any of the civil pow er made their appearance. She was soon informed, that an unusual cloud of dust and glittering of arms was seen through the trees on the road from Paris, Madame d'Etrees, without waiting for further particulars, fled in disguise through a concealed door, she had taken the precaution to open on purpose ; ac companied by the Count de Sanze, and all * Poulain, i. p. 29 to 3^. Dom Clemencet, i. p. 100 to 106. Besogne, i. p. 109 to 1 14, Racine, Hist, Ab, p. 11 to 13. 121 the young gentlemen who had escorted him, and who had remained in the Monas tery ever since. As for the Confessor, Dom Sabathier, who by some accident did not receive the intelligence so early, he was obhged to clirab up the high garden wall, and leaping down at the risk of his neck, and taking to his heels, only just effected his escape in tirae. The whole party then fled to sorae of their friends, where they reraained concealed for several weeks.* The Mere de la Serre, who had been the chief instruraent in this scandalous scene, was less fortunate, f Not having time to escape, she concealed herself in a hiding place, which during a period of civil war, had been very artfully contrived through the ceiling of one of the cells of the Monas tery.* The access was entirely concealed by a tapestry-hanging, which fell over it; and even were it discovered, it could only be * See note, page 120, t Vie de Suireau des Anges, p, 65 to 68. 122 reached by a ladder. The cell through which was this lurking hole, was then in the possession of one of the refractory nuns. Madame de la Serre withdrew there, taking with her a supply of food.* The archers, having, as they imagined, searched the whole house, without finding any thing ; after establishing a guard of a hundred men, went to Pontoise. W^hen their commander waited on the M, Ange lique, and very politely told her, that his Majesty, anxious for the prosperity of so considerable an estabhshment as Maubuis son, was very desirous that she should , immediately take again the government of that house.* It was by this time ten o'clock at night, and as no tisatie was to be lost, the M. An gelique disposed herself immediately to set out. All the ecclesiastics of the town chose to shew them the respect of accom panying them as far as the gates of the monastery. They all set out ; the eccle siastics first, and then the nuns, walking * See note, page 120. 123 two and two, and firming a long proces sion, between a double file of archers, mounted and carrying each a lighted flam beau. Meanwhile, almost every inhabi tant of the town or neighbourhood hurried to behold the cereriiony ; and notwithstan ding the lateness ofthe hour, night seemed almost converted into day, by the blaze of the hundreds of flambeaux and torches assembled on every side by the multitude of people who poured in from all quarters,* Thus did the nuns arrive at the Abbey, The night was chiefly spent in watching on the part of the arqhers ; and in provi- .ding for their refreshment, or that of the nuns. Towards morning, the centinel, who was posted at the door of the empty dormitory, hearing some one moving softly, and as though treading with caution, .gave information to the officers. When after a long search, the hiding place of Madame de la Serre was discovered. This lady, whose appearance and manners the M; Angelique, describes as rather resem- * See note, page 120. 124 bling a trooper f than a nun, at first not only refused to quit her lurking hole, but began to insult the archers in the most opprobrious terms; well knowing they could not place a ladder so as to climb up safely, unless she chose to let it remain there. One of the archers seeing this, applied the muzzle of his firelock to the door, and threatened to fire instantly, un less she surrendered herself; which she then did. She was then seized, and trans ferred to another convent.* The archers still reraained six whole months in the neighbourhood of Maubuisson ; lest Madame d'Etrees, whose retreat was un known, should meditate a second enterprize.* This precaution proved not unnecessary, as the Count de Sanze and his companions continually lurked about the premises, and either singly, or sometimes in small parties, both by nigjit and day, not only insulted and ill used the workmen and laborers who were employed there, but continually fired * See note, page 120, t Vie de Suireau des Anges, p, 66. 125 in at the windows, particularly those of the M, Angelique,* The guard which the government had provided, was, however, very painful to this excellent abbess. She did not like to see a religious house surrounded by an armed force ; often saying, " What can be expected from seculars, if religious persons, at least, do not shew that their confidence is in the Lord and in the power of his might ?"* On her reiterated representations, the archers were, at length, withdrawn. Very soon after, Madame d'Etrees being dis covered, and shut up anew with the Filles Penitentes, all hostilities ceased ; and the M. Angelique was left in tranquillity, to prosecute her work at Maubuisson,* She stayed there five years.* The Christian reader will be pleased to learn, that, many years after, Madame.de la Serre became, by the example of the Port Royal nuns, a truly converted cha racter. Her haughty spirit was humbled ; * See note, page 120, 126 the fierceness of her nature was turned into the gentleness of the larab; and, after a dark and storray day, her evening sun set with a bright and peaceful light ; and her name, though at the eleventh hour, was enrolled araongst the worthies of Port Royal,* We cannot speak with the sarae assu rance of Madame d'Etrees. She sunk from degradation to degradation, till she was at length transferred from the convent of St, Marie to the prisons of the Chatelet. The last certain intelligence we have concerning her, is that of a venerable religious, who went to pay her a charitable visit, in hopes of leading her to repentance. He found her stretched on a sorry raattrass, in a state of the most squalid misery and dis order, and drinking costly wines, in which, as well as in litigation, she spent the very handsome income which was settled upon her, from the revenues of Maubuisson, at the solicitations of the Port Royal abbess, * Suireau des Anges, p, 68 to 73. 127 The kindly intended visit of the pious reli gious, she rejected with indignant scorn. No more is certainly known of this un happy woraan ; but, about twenty years after, at the time of her death, the pasket wherein she used to keep her papers, her jewels, and all her most precious and ira portant effects, being brought to Mau buisson, the Mere Suireau des Anges, then abbess, was equally astonished and touched, to find all these things gone, and replaced by a New Testaraent and a Thoraas a Kempis, neatly papered, and marked in a variety of passages, as though they had been constantly read and meditated.* Such is a very abridged account of the difficulties the M. Angelique had to en counter at the monastery of Maubuisson. They are indeed slight in comparison of many she afterwards had to endure from the nuns ofthe monastery of Tard, They are, however, sufficient to shew, not only that he who will serve the Lord, * Suireau des Anges, pp. 160. 161. Besogne, i. p. 112 to 114. Clemencet, i. p. 105. 128 must prepare his soul for temptation ; but that to those who order their way aright, and trust in him, their reward shall not fail. In every one of the monasteries, how ever, a solid reform was, at length, effec tually established. Both the nuns and abbesses considered their visitors from Port Royal, as angels descended from heaven. The M. Angelica became a blessing, not only to her own abbey, but to the whole order of Citeaux. Meanwhile the celebrity of Port Royal had occasioned a prodigious increase in the number of its inhabitants. Thirty nuns of Maubuisson besought the M. Angelica to allow them to return with her, after her visit to their convent : besides which, a great many ladies from every part of France were continually applying for admittance. This rapid increase began to be a serious incon venience.* The abbey had been originally destined * Besogne, i. p. 116 and 132. Poulain, i. p. 33 to 35. Clem. i. p. 109 to 115, and 127 to 131. 129 for twelve nuns. It now was inhabited by eighty. It ought to have been observed, that the monastery was situated in a deep and thickly 'wooded valley, watered by two extensive lakes. For want of being pro perly drained, they had spread in one con tinued marsh over the whole vale. The vicinity of the wood increased the evil. The situation became exceedingly damp and unhealthy. The whole monastery was continually enveloped in a thick fog. The situation was rendered still more noxious by the want of proper accommodation for so large a family. ' The house, at length, became a complete infirmary. Deaths continually succeeded each other. Yet numbers of fresh postulants were perpetually offering. In this difficulty^ Providepce did not abandon the M. Angeilica. A resource was afforded by her own family; Her mother, Madame Arnauld, was a lady of yery con siderable affluence. She was daughter to the celebrated M. Marion, Advocate-ge- VOL, II. K 136 neral. This lady had been the mother of twenty children. Ten had died in their youth ; the others were amply and honour ably provided for. She was herself, at this period, left a widow, with a very considerable fortune at her own, disposal. There happened, at this very juncture, to be a noble house, with magnificent gardens, offered for sale at Paris. It was situated in the Fauxbourg St. Jacques, and was called the hotel Clagny, This house Madame Arnauld purchased at a very considerable expense, and presented to her daughter. It was soon prepared for the reception of the community. A church was added to it by one of the first architects, and the interior was properly fitted up. The permission of the Archbishop of Paris was obtained, and the whole commu nity was transferred to this new habitation, A chaplain only was left at Port Royal, to supply the parish church, and to take care of the house. 131 Both these monasteries were Considered as forming one abbey; but, thenceforward, ¦they were distinguished by the appellations of Port Royal de Parish and Poft Royal des Champs. The removal of the nuns took place in 1625. ' The M. Angelica seeing her reformation so thoroughly effected^ tiegah to consider the best mode of giving it solidity and per manence. She at length obtained a royal grant, declaring that the abbess, instead of being appointed for life by the king, should be elected triennially by the niins. In -1630, the M, Angelica and the M. Agnfes resigned their offices, and restored the mo nastery to a free election. They were, hovv- ever, very frequently appointed abbesses afterwards. It has been mentioned, that the M, Ange lica had nine brothers and sisters living. Six of her sisters were nuns at Port Royal. Her brothers all filled distinguished posts, in a manner most honourable to their repu tation, K 2 132 Her eldest brother, M. Arnauld d'An dilli, occupied, the office of commissary- general to the army. His duties obliged him to an almost continual attendance at court. The great integrity and fidelity for which he was distinguished, procured him universal respect ; and his amiable dispo sition rendered him exceedingly beloved. The queen particulariy honored him with the highest esteem. But, above all, he was remarked for his deep piety, so that, whilst yet in his eariy years, he was vene rated even by courtiers as a saint. Another of her brothers was M. Henry Arnauld,, Bishop ol Angers. This gentle man was esteemed one of the most pious prelates in France. He was, at an early age, sent as envoy from the conrt of France, to that of Rome. His talents and piety were so highly esteemed there, that medals were struck in his honor, and a statue was erected to hira by the noble house of Bar- barini. When he became Bishop of Angers* he was so assiduous in performing his pas toral duties, that he never but once in his 133 life quitted his diocese; and that was to convert the Prince of Tarentum, and to reconcile him with the Duke of La Tre- mouille, his father. The city of Angers, in opposition to all his efforts, revolted in l652. The Queen- mother was advancing iti order to take signal vengeance. The good bishop had been appointed to say mass before the royal army, a few miles from the entrance of the city. The queen, after service, advanced to the altar. " Madam," said he, giving her the consecrated host, " receive your God — your God who, whilst expiring on the cross, pardoned his enemies !" The city was spared. These merciful maxims were not merely on his lips, but resided in his heart. It was said of him, that the in fallible claim to the Bishop of Angers' good offices was to use hira ill. He was truly the father of the poor and the afflicted. His whole tirae was taken up in prayerj reading, and the affairs of his diocese, A friend fearing that his health might be ityured by incessant labor, re- 134 quested him to set apart one day in every week for rest, " I have no objection," re plied M, d' Angers, " provided you fix on one in which I am not bishop," The other brother of the M, Angelica, was the great Arnauld, Dr, of Sorbonne, who was afterwards so distinguished a champion of Jansenism, He was the last of Madame Arnauld's children, and was twenty years younger than his brother M. d'Andilli. At a very early period he shewed marks of that energy and fire, by which he was subsequently so peculiarly charac terized. When only six years old, he was staying" with his relation Cardinal Perron. One day, after dinner, he was intently oc cupying himself with pen and ink and paper, instead of amusing himself with his playfellows. The cardinal asked him what he was about ? " Sir," returned the child, f' I am assisting you to refute the Hugonots." Afterwards, when he was admitted as a men!) ber of the Sorbonne, instead of the oath ordinarily tendered, he, with great energy, swore, not only to abide by the doctrines 135 condemnation, and re morse. But whatever be the truth of our view of our state by nature, a view of that alon_e can only produce pusillanimity, and lead to despair. But that faith, by a vital reception of which we are Christians, and by which Ave are distinguished from the * Saci's Letters, vol. ii. p. ^98, — translation*. 147 angels of darkness, after shewing us this ground of corruption and sin, which ought profoundly to hurable us, shews us with it the infinite raercy of God, founded upon the blood of Jesus Christ, as mediator and reconciler of men with God, who is thus become our trust and our cure, and in which ALONE, according to St, Paul, con sists the mystery of the Christian religion. We must then unite these two views, which ought never to be separated — the view of ourselves and of our sins, and the view of Jesus Christ and of his merits. The first terrifies, tbe second re-assures. The first deeply humbles, the second elevates, with what St. Austin terras a holy presuraption j the fruit not of pride, but of faith ; and this confidence is firm, because it is humble. It is founded on the entire annihilation of hope fi'om man; but on the mercy of God, and the efficacy of the blood of Christ, both of which are infinite."* ** As for myself, I feel that I am poor ? Saci's Letters, vol. ii, p, 703, — translations. L2 148 interioriy ; that I am destitute of every'good thing: but O my God, thou hast under taken to cure me, God alone can be the physician of the soul. The blood of God can alone be our remedy; theispirit of God can alone achieve our cure,"* Such were the sentiments of the inha bitants of Port Royal, and such were the sources whence they drew that plenitude of grace which so richly dwelt in their hearts, and which manifested itself in so abundant a diffusion of good works. The remainder of their tirae was taken up in labors of love for their fellow-crea tures. Yet, in these was the greatest regu larity observed. They did not attempt to do each what was right in his own eyes; * Saci's Letters, vol, ii, pp, 677 and 678,— The whole' included in commas of quotation is a transla tion from the passages referred to. See six thick Svo, vols, of Singlin's Instructions to the Nuns of Port Royal on the Scripture of the Day ; and twelve vols, of Tourneaux's Instructions' on the same, as specimens of the great anxiety ofthe Port Royalists to diffuse Scrip tural instruction. 149 but each filled up that occupation for which it was judged his talents were best fitted. Every one of these recluses were nnder the direction of M. de St, Cyran. Though he was all this time immured in the dungeon of Vincennes, he maintained a constant correspondence with his friend, M. Singlin, This ecclesiastic, under his imme diate direction, guided both the houses of Port Royal, By this means, M. de St, Cyran was acquainted with the character of every individual in each of the houses. Every one of the recluses at Port Royal des Champs, as well as every nun in Port Royal de Paris, was placed in the exact office for which he or she was best qualified. Nor did their unfeigned humility ever per mit them to murmur, at any appointment, however low. Each one rather esteemed it an honor to be employed in any way for his Lord. The acts of mercy which occupied the .recluses, were divided into two depart ments; the internal concerns, which rela- t/ed to their own community, and the 150 external ones, which regarded the public at large; again, some of their occupations demanded intellectual, whilst others onl^ required bodily labor. Such, however, was the mercy of God, that persons were abundantly supplied, suited to every neces sity ; and so great was the humility of the recluses, that each, with thankfulness, ac cepted his own post. None considered the place his birth entitled him to, so much as in what mode he might best serve his brethren. Hence some were employed in manual labor, some in assisting the poor, and others in study. They cultivated the farms and gardens ; they repaired the house, and supplied every article of clothing amongst themselves. There were carpenters, ploughmen, farmers, gardeners, glaziers, shoemakers, and vine-dressers, whose ac curate workmanship appeared, as though they had never practised any thing else ; yet the recollection and devotion visible in their countenances marked them as saints, and their manners betrayed them as natives 151 of a court. Others contributed their talents to the good of the public. Several studied physic and surgery. Others became acquainted with the law, in order to re concile differences araongst their poorer neighbours. Four of the recluses who pvaetised as physicians, w^re solely occu pied in visiting the poor. Two of them became the most eminent practitioners of their iige. Some supplied the pulpit, and ministered to the spiritual wants of their brethren. Considerable nurabers were devoted to supply both the temporal and spiritual necessities of the peasantry around. Some carried them food ; others nursed them and watched them even in the most infectious complaints. Many bestowed their care entirely on the education of children. Distinct establishments were formed for the poor and the rich. Meantime the fame of Port Royal became more widely diffiised. Many noblemen and gentlemen of fortune entreat ed the.pious and learned recluses to under* take the education of their children. Se- 152 veral persons of property, influenced by religious motives, gave up their parks and houses to be appropriated to school-houses and play-grounds. By this means the Port Royal schools were furnished with every possible accommodation. Many of these little establishments were soon formed in various places. One was situated at Chenet, another at des Troux, a third was at Paris, and two of them at Port Royal. These little academies were organized by men of the first piety and learning. Persons of the most eminent abilities devoted themselves to the children's instruction. M, de Saci, Claude Lancelot, Nicole, and Fontaine, were amongst the number of the preceptors. It were extraordinary had not the pupils of such masters been erainently distinguished. The plan of Tillemont's immense and labo rious works was traced out and arranged at the eariy age of nineteen, whilst he was yet at the school of Ch6net. Some of the finest verses in Racine's tragedies were me ditated whilst a boy at school, in the woods of Port Royal. Others of the recluses occu- 153 pied themselves in study ; they composed works, which not only enlightened their own age, but to which ours is deeply indebted. Some of the best translations of the Fathers, and the most edifying accounts of the saints, issued from the solitudes of Port Royal, The controversial and theological works of Arnauld, the thoughts and letters of Pascal, the moral essays of Nicole, the deeply spiritual letters of Saci, were all composed in this seclusion. These works gained the esteem of the religious, whilst the gram mars they had drawn up for the schools ob tained, and still raaintain the universal suffrage of the learned. In a short time the recluses of Port Royal becarae an universal therae of dis course and adrairation. In the mean while the nuns at Port Royal de Paris, had again greatly extended their numbers. They now exceeded 180. It became necessary again to divide them. It was resolved to station a detachment of the community at their old habitation of 154 Port Royal des Champs, The rest it was determined should remain at Paris, The news of the nuns' intended return was soon spread at Port Royal. The whole neighbourhood evinced the greatest joy. It was delightful again to see them after twenty-five years' absence. The recluses used every exertion to pre pare the house and gardens. They put them in the best order for their friends. Their own books and furniture were soon packed up. On tbe morning of the very day the nuns were expected, they removed from the monastery. They took possession of a farm-house belonging to it, which was situated on the top of the hill. The M, Angelica was at that time abbess by election. She came herself to establish the nuns in their former habitation. On the day she vvas expected, all the poor flocked to the monastery in their best clothes. As soon as the long file of car riages appeared through the woods on the top of the hill, tliey all went to meet her. 155 The bells were immediately rung ; shouts of joy, and exclamations of pleasure resounded on allsides. The processionstopped, then the poor with tears implored their good mother's benediction. She tenderiy embraced them. At tbe church door she was met by all the recluses. They led the nuns into the choir, and, after service, left them in possession of the monastery. The recluses retired to their new habitation of Les Granges. The institution of Port Royal was now in a flourishing condition. The nuns and recluses never indeed saw each other but at church ; even there a grate separated them ; nor had they any inter course, though so neariy related, but by letter. Nevertheless both the communities might be considered as forming one body. Both were under the same spiritual direc tion. Each was animated by one and the sarae spirit. The recluses continued all their former occupations ; they conducted the farms and gardens, and performed every other labo rious office, Tte nuns superintended girls' 156 schools, educated ,young woraen, fed and clothed the poor, instructed their own sex, and nursed the sick. These two societies (which together contained eighteen of the Arnauld faraily) were yet more closely united by grace than by ties of blood. They were perfectly joined together in one heart and mind, all saying the same thing, and all having the same views of love to God and love to man. In truth, no religious society through out the whole extent of Catholic Christen dom, had established a higher reputation than Port Royal; or was more eminent either for the sanctity or erudition of its merabers,* Nor was the feraale part of the establish ment in the monastery less distinguished for its virtues, than the company of recluses who»inhabited les Granges, The very exterior of this institution announced the animating spirit of piety that reigned within, -f * Rae, Hist, Ab, pp, 60, 61, + Ibid, 157 The gravity and liturgic siraplicity, and yet touching and chastened pathos with which the praises of God were sung, and the profound reverence and devotion with which the service was performed ; touched the heart of every person who visited this seclusion. Even the minute details of di vine service, the neatness, order, and regu,- larity of their choir; the solemn and- im posing grandeur of architecture which cha racterized the church; and the perfect plainness which distinguished all the vest ments and vessels used in the service, did not fail to impress the mind. The modesty, recollection, and simplicity of the servants ; the solitude of the parlors, the discretion and modesty of the nuns, their polite and kind attention to those who had occasion to speak to thera i and their total absence of curiosity respecting all that was transacted in the world, forraed a therae of universal admiration and eulogium.* • See note, page 156. 158 How much more was the monastery of Port Royal venerated by those who were intimately acquainted with its interior, and who continually found there new sources of edification. How deep was the peace, how holy the spirit of humility and retirement, how pure and spiritual the temperance and self-denial, and how fervent and zealous the spirit of charity which reigned within the walls of its enclosure. In this truly admirable community might be seen united, a rare example of industry, inspired by charity, and continued without intermissioti or relaxation ; of prayer without any sus pension ; of faith, bearing continual and abundasit fruits. In this society ambition had no place, nor was any contention found, but who should fill up the most vile, the most laborious, and the most humi liating offices. No impatience was to be discovered in the sisters, nor any caprice in the mothers : and it might truly be saidi that in this blessed community. Christian love burnt withi a bright, a burning, a clear 159 and steady flame ; alike rendering obedience prompt, comraand reasonable, and devo tion to God, all in all.* But nothing ever approached to the cora plete and entire disinterestedness which so eminently characterized Port Royal; and which, from the Abbess to the last of the servants, glowed as one soul, with an open and munificent generosity.f During the whole of the sixty years which elapsed before an unjust persecution forbid the reception of novices, it was never heard, nor did even calumny breathe, that either any contract or tacit convention vi^as qnce entered into for thedowry of the nuns. Novices were retained on trial for two years, and if at the end of that time their vocation was judged to be solidly grounded, the parents were informed that their children were received to profession, and an ar rangement was made with them as to the day when the ceremony should take place.f * Rkc. Hist, Ab, p, 60 to 65. also Poul, tom, ii. pi 23, 24. see also Bes. tom, i, p, 469 to 471. t Ibid, i Ibid. 160 The profession being made, and not till then, if the parents were not rich, no dona tion under any pretext was allowed ; if they were, whatever they chose to offer was re ceived as an alms: and a very considerable part of this alms was always reserved to distribute either amongst destitute families, or poor religious communities,* . In one instance, they gave as a single present to a distressed community, a sum of twenty thousand francs, which had just been left to their house; and what rendered it remarkable was, that at the very time the Attorney was drawing out the deed of gift, the steward of Port Royal, who was ignorant of the transaction, came to con sult him how to raise money on the rents not yet due, the house being at that time in the most urgent distress.f Never did the rank or obscurity, or the wealth or poverty of a novice, enter into the calculation of the Mother Angelica, J She was never more delighted, than when girls presented theraselves in a state of the . ..— ^. — , ¦ . ¦ ¦ . — — . — . ..- -;— *, See note, page 159. t Ibid, X Ibid. 161 most destitute poverty, and when she saw them afraid lest they should be rejected on that account, she always used to encourage them, saying kindly, " Come in, come in, my dear sisters! our house is not in want of wealth, but of good nuns; if you are such, you. confer upon us by coming, the greatest benefit we can receiycw"* Once a lady of very high rank and great wealth, made a donation to Port Royal of a benefaction of eighty thousand livres; re questing it might be used in order to liqui date the heavy debts which had necessarily been incurred in fitting up the house of Port Royal de Paris; and also to erect several buildings very much wanted, both at Port Royal de Paris, and Port Royal des Champs; and which indeed were become •indispensably uecessary, in consequence of the rapid augmentation of the community. It consisted of about two hundred choir nuns, between three and four hundred pupils, besides lay-sisters, novices, and « — I. ¦ * Rae, Hist, Ab. p, 60 to 65. VOL. II. M 162 postulants. Many ladies also boarded in the monastic precincts, and had apartraents there, so that the buildings required were very considerable.* The money was appropriated according to- the lady's direction. She soon after be came a boarder in chambers at Port Royal, without at first entertaining any other de sire than that of ending her days in the house, without taking the vows. In process of tirae, however, she wished to take the veil. She was then admitted to the novi ciate ; during which time she passed through the sarae trials as all other novices. The two years being at length expired, she urged her reception to make her profession. The M. Angelica and her nuns, clearly foresaw the serious difficulties to which they might be exposed, if they refused her: nevertheless, as they were convinced in con science that she had not a sufficient voca tion, she was unanimously rejected.f The lady quitted the convent in sore dis- * See note, page 161. -f Ibid. 163 pleasure, and iramediately resolved to re claim her donation. Had they allowed it to proceed to a trial, the nuns would have infallibly retained the whole; but they pre ferred touching her heart by a bright ex ample, to maintaining their own indisputable right.^ The Abbess immediately sold some rents at a heavy loss, they retrenched every expense that was not absolutely necessary, and bor- rawed some money at high interest, to raise this enorraous sum ; which by great exer tions, and very great deprivations, they finally accoraplished. It was restored- to the lady by a notary, in presence of M. le Nain, father of M.-Tilleraont, and Master of Requests, and of M. Palluau, counsellor of Parliament; both of whom openly.de- .clared, that they were as much charmed ,with the spirit and disinterestedness of Ma dame de Port Roysjl and her nuns, as they were ill edified by the mean, vindictive, and * See note, page 161. M 2 164 self-interested conduct of their pretended benefactress.* Two young ladies who were sisters, once presented themselves for admission at Port Royal, The eldest had a fortune of a thou sand crowns left her by her godmother; the other had absolutely nothing. Both were well disposed young persons, and conducted themselves so well, whilst postulants, as to be received into the noviciate. But on trial, the same vocation was not recog nized in them both; the one who had the thousand crowns was received to pro fession, and the one who had nothing was sent back; but she received as a dowry the thousand crowns of her sister.f Whenever the M. Angelica found her self obliged to dismiss postulants, or novices for profession as lay-sisters, (and who con sequently belonged to a station in which they depended on their own labour ;) she never perraitted them to quit the monastery, * See note, page 161. t Poul, tom. ii, p. 24. ins without presenting^ them with a sum of money, equivalent to what they might have earned at their business, during the time they remained on trial,* The perfect disinterestedness of the mo nastery of Port Royal, with respect to novices, was probably one cause Of the very strong attachment the nuns always felt for that house, and the honor they always considered it, to be received to profession. One day, a gentleraan of rank being come on business to Port Royal, asked to speak to the Mother Angelica of St. John, who was at that time Abbess. She, being engaged at that moraent in giving particular orders, sent another nun to supply her place for a few moments, till she should have dispatched the concerns which de tained her. The gentleman began speaking of the monastery. In answer to his en quiries, the nun spoke during the whole time, of nothing but her profound gratitude * Poul, torn. ii. p. 24 : also Lane, Memj ii. pp. 230,, 231, note. 166 to that house, for the very great charity and indulgence it had shewn in receiving her to profession. The gentleman to whom she spoke, concluded her to be some poor indigent, friendless girl, received on charity, which he knew was very frequent at Port Royal, At this juncture, the Abbess en tering tbe parlor, the nun rose and retired. After having made his compliments, and despatched the business on which he carae, he did not fail to observe to the Abbess, how highly edified he had been at the lively gratitude of the good sister who had just left the parlor, for the charity that house had shewn her ; and that it vvas a double subject of edification, to seethe perfect dis- ihterestedness of their bouse, in thus receiv ing poor girls gratuitously,* The Abbess was at first totally at a loss to comprehend what he meant, but after wards recollecting the nun who was just. gone, she told him with a smile, *' that the supposed poor girl, was the lady Magda- * Poul, ii, pp, 279, 280, 167 lena,*of St, Christina, Briquet; sole heiress, at an early age, of the iraraense succession of the celebrated M. Bignon, Advocate-ge- * Author of some of" Les Vies Edifiantes," and editor of " Lettres Spiriluejles de Sacy," She was the most in timate friend of the Countess de St, Eustoquie de Fles- celles de Bregy, author of " La Vie de Madame Suireau des Anges," and a nun at Port Royal. The splendid part these ladies performed and sustained during the grand persecution of their house, is recorded at large/ in every history of Port Royal, They alone, when the Abbesses were imprisoned, appeared by their zeal, and talent, and force of character, tbe defence of the whole hotise. Their fortitude under the rigorous imprison ment they endured was equally admirable. They were celebrated also for the ready wit, with which they often disarmed their persecutoirs. Threats, persecutions, and close imprisonments, hav ing been tried for several years in vain, it was deter mined to send a relation of Madame de Bregy's, wbo had a pikce at court, to urge her to sign the formulary. The Couhtess accordingly drove over, one morning; from the levee at Versailles, in full dress, to enter into a theological discussion with the nun. The lady, afler prefacing her discourse with the wishes of the courts ibe evils to her family of losing court-favor, came to ' rehgious motives; here however, she found herself not »o much at home ; and after a few vain attempts cut 168 neral of France, and of the very considerable fortune of her father, M, Briquet, Master of Requests. That in truth, she had brought to the house immense wealth ; and that she short her harangue, by the inquiry, " How she could possibly refuse to conform to a command issued by the Pope, or deny the obligation of the authority of St, Peter's successor ?" To which Madame de St," Bregy replied with a smile, " Indeed, my dear Countess, I had not imagined it had been of any higher obligation than the command, ' women's adorning, let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and wearing of gold, and putting on of apparel,' which was given to all the churches by St. Peter himself." The full dressed Countess was silenced, and after a moment took herleaye. ' Another time, after various imprisonments, and other persecutions, and various discussions on the part of the Archbishop of Paris, {who it must be re membered is Metropolitan of France,) he being out of all patience, at length exclaimed, " Whether you be lieve the formulary or not, do but sign, and I am wil ling to bear the sin, if it be one, for you ;" to which she replied, bow ing with good-humored archness, " Par don me, my Lord, I should be too much grieved to add to your Grace's heavy incumbrances, the least ad ditional burthen." — See the lives of these ladies, in the Necrol. Clem. Bes. Poul. and the Vies Edifiantes, S(c. ^e. m was a lady equally distinguished for her solid understanding, her strength of cha racter, and her literary and musical talents, as for her piety and humility.* The spirit of disinterestedness and gene rosity which animated Port Royal, from the establishment of the reform to the very last hour of its existence,f was amongst the blessed fruits of the faith of the Mother Angelica, and was originally inspired by her example. This adtnirable Abbess truly had her af fections set on things above ; her peace was therefore never disturbed by temporal mis fortunes, nor her desires excited by merely temporal goods, J She might eminently be said, to be wholly void of that covetousness which is idolatry. Her soul being fixed on God, the fluctua tion of all created goods never shook the * Poul. ii. pp. 279, 280. t See the Narrative ofthe Demolition of Port Royal. I Poulain, ii. pp. 25, 26, 27. 170 foundation of her peace. And the spirit of piety and disinterestedness produced that perfect tranquillity of mind, which the M. Angehca always manifested, under all the accidents which befel the temporal affairs of Port Royal.* One day, Le Petit Port Royal, a very large farm belonging to the monastery, took fire.f This accident having occurred on Sunday morning, during mass, nobody was at home, except a little boy who was left to take care of the house. The lad was so terrified and araazed at the flaraes and volumes of sraoak, that he stood petrified, and gazing at the spreading conflagration in all the stupor of fear; without once thinking of calling on the neighbours to lend their as sistance. The consequence of this panic was, that the loss was very considerable^ Besides the buildings, barns, stables, hay ricks, wood-stacks, wine-presses, and all the * See note :j:, page 169. f Ibid. 171 stores, which were completely consumed; all the poultry and cattle were destroyed, together with five horses, and all the linen.* M, Arnauld was desired to inform his sister the Abbess, of so grievous a disaster ; and to tell her with discretion, as it was feared so heavy a loss might greatly affect her. She, however, heard hira with perfect tranquiUity, and when he had done speak ing, replied with a smile of satisfaction; " God be praised, that this is all ! Corae, brother, let us go, and imraediately offer up our fervent thanks to God, that no lives are lost."t She discovered the same calmness on an other occasion, when qne night all their flocks were ravaged by a wolf. Of this ac cident M, Arnauld, was also commissioned to inform her. " I was goihg," said she in reply, *' to send to the fair, to buy more sheep ; but God, no doubt, finds we had too many, since he sent this wolf to destroy them. We must not, however, refuse our)» » See note %, page 169, f Ibid, 172 selves some pleasure, to counterbalance this accident. Let all the wounded sheep be killed, and distributed amongst the peasants, that there may not be to-morrow one poor peasant's house in all the villages round Port Royal, where the spit does not turn,"* The same disinterested spirit pervaded every part of the conduct of the nuns at Port Royal. And though the absolutely necessary expenditure of this large esta blishment amounted annually to above fifty thousand livres ; and though their revenues, independently of the donations which were made them, only certainly amounted to seven thousand, they never pursued any other conduct, nor did they ever fail in the perforraance of any one engagement. One of the most edifying proofs of the entire emancipation of the Abbess from the cun ning spirit of this worid, was, the great care she took, even in periods of the most urgent necessities and pressing wants, to conceal their poverty from those affluent * See note X' page 169. I7S and powerful friends who were the most anxiously desirous to assist them.* , " My dear daughters," said this excel lent Abbess, " we have taken a vow of po verty ; it is not being in truth poor, to ex pose our deprivations to generous friends, whom we know to be always ready to im part their wealth with rich abundahce,"t The active beneficence of the Abbess was equal to her disinterestedness. It was a raaxira continually inculcated at Port Royal, that retireraent and seclusion is not therefore necessarily religious seclu sion. They were continually reminded, that persons quit the world from various motives ; and that the dissipations and in terests which beguile or distract the heart "of worldly men, are perhaps as often re nounced frora disappointment, vexation, and inactivity, as from a genuine diedica- tion of the heart to God: and that even those whose motive has been pure, in thus * Poul.ii, pp, 20, 27, Rae, Hist, Ab, 65, 66, See Bes, tom. i. p. 35 to 40. + Ibid. 174 consecrating themselves by the vows of re ligion, should continually examine thera selves, to see that they persevered in walk ing not only in the perfect way, but wisely in the perfect way. Nothing, said the excellent Abbess of Port Royal, is more easy than to deceive ourselves, as to the ground and intents of the heart, in those actions which, when once performed, constitute a choice for life. The motive was perhaps pure which at first inspired it ; and because the same _outward^ course remains, we are too apt to flatter ourselves, that the sarae internal de votion, zeal, and singleness of heart, still continue ; whereas too often, the habit by which a course of hfe is continued, is wholly different frora the choice by which it was established. And if the human heart be so corrupt, that even an apostle found it necessary to seek constant aid from above, and that the inner man should be renewed day by day, do not let us flatter ourselves with vainly trusting to a dead and formal adhesion to those works, we 175 once adopted from spiritual and living faith. It may be said with equal advantage, both to the novice who has her profession to make, and to the nun who has already raade it on the best grounds, examine your own hearts ; there is an indolent retirement from the world, which arises from sloth ; there is a selfish retirement which originates in a misanthropic absorption in our own concerns; there is a melancholy retire ment, which is grounded on disappointed self-love; and there is a philosophic retire ment, which has its basis in pride and contempt of others. Far different from all these anti- christian dispositions is a ge nuine religious retirement. The Christian's seclusion is founded on a deep experience of the corruption and deceitfulness of his own heart; nor is it deserving of that holy narae, unless whilst he comes out from araongst worldly men, to wait upon God in silence, and to renew his strength either in solitude, or by the example of his saints ; he also assiduously and diligently labors, by his industry and his talents, as well as his 176 prayers, to serve to the very uttermost even that secular society conscience has led him to quit as associates. Accordingly, the monastery of Port Royal was equally distinguished for the munifi cence and zeal of its liberality and charity; for the superiority of the education, at once liberal and religious, vvhich was given to its very numerous pupils, and which furnished France with so great a number of charac ters distinguished for piety and good con duct, alike in the world as in monastic se? elusions. It was, too, scarcely less cele brated for the valuable religious and bio graphical works, published by many of its members. The works of La Mere Agnes, La M, Angelique, La M, Angelique de St. Jeauj^ Madarae Madeleine de St. Christine Briquet, Madame St, Eustoquie de Flesr celles de Bregy, Madame Jacqueline de St. Euphemie Pascal, Madame de Ligny, and the Letters of Madame du Valois, though but little known in this country, are, in wisdom, enlightened piety, good taste, and solidity of judgment, only to be surpassed by the 177 bright examples afforded by the lives of their authors. It is scarcely credible, how niany poor families, both in Paris and in the country, were relieved, by the extensive charities of the two. houses, of Port Royal. For a very considerable time Parti Royai des Champs had regular sttrgeons' and physicians, on purpose to attend the poor.. They were all persons of known piety. They visited all the villages round about,' carrying with them medicine,.food,'and this Testament,* which Jalter sorae of them were in the habit of reading as they walked, in order to en able them at once to become useful physi cians to the souls as to the bodies of theif patients.f - Nor did the nuns merely depute others to perform these acts of charity. They studied the chirurgi cal art themselves, and pressed |he most loathsorae wounds of the poor, with vvonderful charity and dexterity, J — .. . ¦ — ^^ r -.-..J * Vie de Hamon. t Rae. Hist, Ab. pp. 66, 67. J Ibid, VOL, IL N 178 Instead of all those frivolous works, by which the industry of other nuns are gene rally occupied and rendered subservient to the vanity or curiosity of persons in the world, it was equally astonishing and ad mirable to observe witli how much indus try, ceconomy, and neatness, the nuns of Port Royal contrived to put together the least scraps, or bring the least remnants into use, and to make cloathing for the multitudes of poor women and children who had nothing wherewith to cover themselves; and it was perfectly wonderful how, when in the midst of poverty, and unjustly strip ped of their property by persecution, their indefatigable Christian, charity furnished them with a multitude of resources and in genious contrivances to assist others.* God, who seeth in secret, knows how often theif largesses have been poured out with kind abundance to the poor without their gates, when they have deprived themselves of their own subsistence, and given their own bread, • Rae, Hist, Ab. p. 67. 179 rather than deny otfiefs; arid God, who doth see in secret, shall assuredly one day revvard them operily,* In all tMese respects the M, Angelica hei's'elf set the example to her nuns,f She hkd £i peculiar and admirable talent in rinr^iiii^V consoling, and beneficially in fluencing the sick. She visited them, watched over them, and found time to ren der them the very meanest services even with her own hands. Nor did she only as sist theni in slight illnesses; far unlike i\ie lax morality of the present day, her truly divine zeal led her to visit those ec[ually who labored under the most contagious' disorders. The most loathsome wounds, the most infectious diseases, and the most malignant fevers never deterred her from attendance; and she continually nursed * Rae. Hist. Ab, pp, 67, 68, t Pojil. tom. ii, p, 21 to 23, K, Necrol, i, pp, 303 and 308. Besogne, tom, i. pp. 47 to 50, Clem, iii. pp. 54, 55, 56. ,N 2 180 persons suffering under their influence her self,* It might be justly said of her, that death had lost its sting ; and hence she was en abled to follow the injunction of inspira tion; and as Christ had laid down his life for- her, so was she willing to lay down her's for her sisters. She made it a point constantly to inquire into the state of the neighbourhood ; not only bestowing ample charities araongst the poor, but taking, and placing out, and pro viding for their orphan children. f Within the inclosure of the monastery she erected a very large infirmary, where the poor women and children of the neigh bourhood were nursed in sickness, and had medicines dispensed to them ; or their wounds properly dressed, if they were sur gical cases. The Abbess often bled them with her own hands. J She had an obedience established in the convent, expressly for the purpose of cloath- * See note f, page 179. t Ibid. % Ibid. 181 ing thepoor, and another for that of their children. These clothes were spun, wove, cut out, and made up by the industry of the nuns,* If the children happened to come with out their mothers, the Abbess has often been seen herself to strip off their rags, wash them, and put on their new clothes. If, by any chance, the stores in the obe diences were exhausted, the M, Angelique took the linen of the monastery, from their several obediences, and had it made up for the poor; teaching the nuns to deprive themi^elves of it, rather than let the poor go without, •{• One great end aud duty of a monastic institution, is, she said, to help the poor who have no other help; if, therefore, we fail in that, we do not fulfil one great end ¦of our vocation,! The M. Angelica not only zealously inculcated the principles of charity ;' but * See note t, page 179, t Poul. ii. pp. 22 and 23. Clem, iii, p. 56 to 63, 182 her prudence contemplated the means by which it can be eflicaciously rediice|d to practice. She therefore had all her nuns instructed in the strictest economy, she allowfed no thing to be lost, but had the least remnants turned to account.* Nay, the charity of this eminent Chris tian was so fervent, that, when the house was in great straits, she has been known to part with all the church-plate of-bqth houses, even down to the very silver lan^ps and candlesticl^s ; nay, she has even taken t,l?e very napkins oflF the altar, tq make cloathes, or bind up the wonnds of tlje poor-t The ]^. Angelica was not only a, decide,d Cliristian, but an eleyated Christian. .^ person of a grand, and coipprehensiye w\^§t,', who knew when to sacrifice the appen^^^ of religious profession, tO the immutable ¦ principles of jcljgion itself * PouV tom. ii, p., §13. t Lan. tomi.ii, p!216. 183 The spirit of tliis excellent abbess per vaded her whole community. At the very period above mentioned, the g^eat neces sities of their own house being the subject of conversation, a sister of the M. Angelica, who was also a nun at Port Royal, was present, and having gone through her re lation, terminated it by saying, with a countenance beaming with benevolence, " Well ! I do not think there is any one thing in the world, that can give one such lively pleasure, as to assist those who aris in want. And yet, perhaps, after all, there is, however, one still more devated ; which is, to have given away every thing, and to s^ord the same pleasure to children of God, by receiving what our gOOd Lord chuses to send us by their hands."* The charity of Port Royal was, however, by no means bounded by the necessities of the lower classes of the community. She extended her inquiries to the families of . * Lancelot, tom. ii. p. 236; also Poul. torn. ii. pp. 77, 78. 184 tradesmen, whora she often rescued from destruction, by timely loans, and by placing their children in schools, or where they might learn trades ; nay, she privately in formed herself concerning all the families of decayed gentry in the neighbourhood, many of them were assisted by sums of money who' were never able to trace the beneficent hand from which it came. Se veral families she completely maintained, and had their children suitably educated and provided for; taking the daughters into the school attached to the monastery.* , Besides this munificent charity to secular persons, both the M, Angelica and all the other Abbesses of Port Royal, always ap propriated a tenth both of their income, and of all the donations they received, either to charitable institutions, or to dis- * Poul', tom. ii, p-22; see also Lettres de la M. Angelique, See. for almost all the preceding articles of charity and disinterestedness, Besogng, tom. i. p, 56 to 72, and many others as striking. 185 / ttessed but pious religious communities. If it so happened that these rents or dona tions carae at a raoraent of such pressing necessity that it was impossible to reserve them, the procuratrix* entered it as a debt in her account book, and it was paid as soon as possible.^ ¦ It; was a very frequent observation ofthe M. AngeUca, that a true Christian will have before his eyes the danger of wealth, more than that of poverty, and the fear of superfluity < more than that of necessity, J ' Nor were these sentiments confined to the abbess, they extended to the very lowest servants who were attached to the house. ¦ ¦ One of the carters of Port Royal; named Innocent Fax, used always to' eat the ¦*! The Procuratrix is ,the nun who pays the bills, keeps the stores, and transacts the business of the mo nastery. Something between a house-steward and housekeeper. ' ' t LanceloVs Memoires, torn, ii. p* 215. ¦ % Ibid. 186 bran bread made for the dogs, in order to give his own portion to the poor. Being possessed of a little piece of land, be sold it for fovir hundred livres ; one hundred of which he gave to deliver a prisoner, and the remaiuing three hundred he gave out to poor families in weekly allowances. One piece of land he kept in corn, which, after his work was over, he used to thresh out himself; his friend, the miller of Port Royal, having ground it, and his sister baked it, he gave it to the poor, as well as his wages, which he laid out in clothes for them. Perceiving his charities were spoken ofi he begged a friend to distribute thera in his own name ; but he refusing to give them as his own, he then begged the nuns of Port Royal to keep his wages, and let them be distributed amongst the charities of the house. Whenever his work was done^ he used to go into the stable, and, shutting the door, spend his leisure in prayer ; pretending, if any one came in and surprised, him kneeling^ to look for soraething, as though be had dropped it in 187 the litter between the horses. He also used to be very diligent in reading Scriptiire, and the uuns having given him a little room c^ his own, with a key, he used to shut him self up there, and copy out passages of Scripture, that he might learn them by h0art. These he repeatfsd as he pursued bis daily labour, and tljey formed t^e sub ject of his conyersation with his fellow-serr yants and with the poor. He always went very thinly clad, and lite^'ajly fulfilled the precept: " let him that h^th two coats impart to him thi^t hath none.'" One win ter fie p?i,ssed without shoes and stockings, haying spent all his mo,ney, and hjayiug stripped hinaself of thena to give to a poo5 old woman whom he saw as he was working oji-t of doors. A gentleman one day^ seeing him in this condition, told hjm **; he was ^ great fool," and asked him, " where he h^d teajfnt to. strip, himself in, this manner ?" Ho replied, '.' in, the Bible." " You are an 'S[^?PI3,iit,jstupid fellow,'' returned the gentle man, " and misunderstand it. You are the first poor, person for \yhontt you should iss keep your little property, and not leave yourself to die like a dog, on a dunghill, in your old age, and to starve for want." " Sir," returned Innocent Fai, with great animation, " it is not wealth that can sup- iply our real wants, but providence; and if we do not submit our desires to hira, we may, iri the midst of wealth, not only suffer from real wants, but be tormented by the multitude of factitious ones. Death will come, and when it does come, the con science would-be more tormented by super fluity, than the body by want,"* The M. Angelica of St, John, who traces the character of Innocent Fai, in the Ne- Crologe'de Port Royal, adds, " It is re markable that Innocent Fai died just one fortnight after this conversation," having not one penny in his pocket, but assisted by the best advice of the six first physicians in France; nursed, not by hirelings, but by the recluses of Port Royal ; men whose * Necrol, tom, i. p. 29 to 33. ,Bes. tom. iy, p. 373 to 376. Clem, torn, iii, p. 556 to 559, 189 education was in courts, whose names on earth were amongst the princes of the land, and. in heaven who were enrolled amongst the saints. His funeral was at tended with honor by a large coraraunity, whose numbers and whose naraes were equally calculated to bestow religious or wo,|]dly respect on his remains.* It is equally remarkable, that the gentle man who gave him advice, lived a long and worldly life ; he died in a noble mansion- house, situated in his own magnificent grounds, in a splendid room, on a bed of down. But his family had flown from the scene of sickness. The tardy footsteps of the often called, and often vainly expected hireling, alone broke the drear solitude of his empty palace; and the physician pro nounced his doom to the indifferent ears of strangers. Then he found that the hand of unattached servitude, which alone relieves the wants of the ungodly rich, is colder ¦ »¦! 1 |. 1,1^ ¦¦.. ^— • * I I <,¦„ I, » , See note, page 188, 190 than that with which casual charity relieves the poor. But whether he died the death of the just, his nearest relatives did not leave their scenes of dissipation to inquire," One ofthe chief excellences of Port Royal; and one which perhaps the most excited erivy against it, was the admirable educa tion bestowed upon children. It was equftlly luminous, judicious, and religious. Never was there any asylura, in which the com parative innocence and purity of childhood, and early youth, reraained raore completely unsullied by the contamination of the world ; nor in which the education was better adapted to the various ages and talents of the pupils intrusted to their care. This institution, far unlike most schools under the care of monasteries, did not confine its care to the merely innocent habits, which arise from not being exposed to the society of the vicious. The truths of Christianity were solidly, and luminously taught. The Scriptures, and the Psalter, were not only diligently studied and explained, both in - 191 French and Latin, but they vwre read in the attitude of prayer : * they were pre^ ceded by a solemn prayer for divine assist ance, to understand and apply the weighty truths they reveafed;, and they were suc ceeded by a pause of meditation f and self- examination. The church liturgy was also taught, and explained both in Latin and ift French. { The lessons of piety which the young ladies of Port Royal received, were still farther impressed upon their hearts, not only by the examples of the nuns, who were appointed ta be their instructors ; but- by the practice of a large and pious com munity, solely occupied in praising God; and i n serving him i n thei r neighbou r . But the education of Port Royal did' riot merely' confine itself to religious principles'; it em- ¦ . 1. I .. u' ' I '. ^ If I ¦ ¦ I I - I I ¦ ' V .* Reglemens des Enfans; t Rae, Hist, Ab. pp. 68, 69, 70. Reglem«ns desEn- fans de P. R. all. See also the latter part of Rei, parf, concerning children. Also, Const, de Port Royal, X Ibid. 192 braced every detail of religious practice, habits of not only acting but feeling kindly and respectfully towards others, of being at once discreet and sincere, in short, the -whole art of Christian social duties and talents founded on religious principles, was eminently taught in this excellent school. Nor were the instructions of the nuns limited to a pious education; very great. assiduity was used, in improving and strengthening the understanding, in giving habits of mental activity, and habits of prompt voluntary exertion of raind. The minds of the pupils of Port Royal were solidly and thoroughly cultivated; and where they perceived the germ of peculiar talents, the education they received under the sisters of the Pascals, Arnaulds, &c. were far different indeed frora that,^ which any public system of education ever else where afforded to ladies. Where this dis tinction was not perceived, the education of Port Royal was equally calculated to render them accomplished mistresses of 193 distinguished families, or perfect and de voted nuns. The same spirit of devotion and piety was inculcated in either case,* It would be very easy to cite a prodigious number of young ladies educated in these monasteries, who have since edified the world, the court, or the cloister, by their wisdom, piety, and talent. It is welt knOwn with what sentiments of admiration, grati tude, and reverence, they always spoke of the education they received at Port Royal. And those who were turned out by an arbitrary royal mandate, retained to their latest breath, amidst the vicissitudes of the world, and the splendors of the court, the same affection for this desolated house as the Jews preserved in their captivity, for the ruins of Jerusalem, f Perhaps it would be diflicult to find a short composition of more pathos, than the letter which one of these exiled scholars wrote to the Abbess of Port Royal. The * See note, page 191, f Ibid, VOL. II. O 194 shortness of our limits alone prevents it* finding a place in these pages. We will not however close this subject, without observing, that although many treatises on education have appeared in modern times, and many which have been distinguished for the splendid talents of the writers; perhaps not many amongst them surpass in true wisdom, in a deep .know ledge of the human heart, or reality of ex perience, the luminous " Reglemens des Enfans," composed by the M. Agnes, Nor is it to be forgotten, that whilst the press teems with numberless theories, pro posing plans of education ; this little, but inestimable work, details a system which has been tried, and that with unexampled success, for above sixty years j and which, at the end of a hundred and fifty years, still entitles its venerable author to the reverence due to transcendent piety, and the admira tion due to supereminent talent. The portion of this work, on the spirit in which Christian institutors should under- 195 take education, and the principles on which they should proceed, is surely well worth the study of all those who undertake or prbmote the education of children. Nor ought we to forget, in closing our list of the charities of Port Royal, the spiritual blessings vvhich were so abundantly diffused by the extensive correspondence they carried on with piously disposed persons of every degree ; so that from the retirement of this seclusion, they spread a blessing over all France. But the munificent assistance which the House of Port Royal itself received, was no less remarkable, than the liberality with which it distributed help to others. Tbe instances of wholly upexpected and opportune donations at moments of distress^ when their only refuge was in united prayer, which are recorded in its annals, are equally remarkable and' edifying,* Al though the estates page 261, f Ibid, S64 their value, by emialating their faith, and practising their exqellent instructions, in stead of nnbeli^eyjngly bewaifing tljeir loss. Believe rae, my daughters, yve stand ;n need of all the humiliations God sends us." Then raising her eyes to heaven, and with a voice deeply affected, she continued, " There was no religious house in all France raore profusely blessed than our own ! We had abundance of spiritual di rectors, whose piety and learning were the adrairation of the land, and the good wor^s of several distinguished characters in the world, connected with us, brought down the blessing of raen upon us; and the knowledge of truth, in clearness and in pu rity, shone with a brilliant light araongst us. Believe me, spiritual wealth has temp tations at least as dangerous as teraporal wealth. It would have been ds^ngerous to have reraained longer in our undisturbed abundance, God has hurabled us, lest we should have fallen; and whilst raen gave us credit for the knowledge of the trutbj God has mercifully afforded us this means 365 of ^If-exami nation, how far we have the lOVje of it. Men who persecute us know not wherefore they do these things ; but God, who uses them as instruraents, does for us by them that which We need. All things shall work together for good to them that love God,"* Meanwhile the bodily sufferings of the M.. Angelique rapidly increased. Her legs and her whole body began to swell; and she fell into the last stage of a confirmed and remediless dropsy. In this state her sufferings were grievous. She labored under an extreme nausea, which occasioned an absolute loathing for every description of food. Her long continued oppression was not only very considerably increased, but she began to labor under all the tortures and soreness incident on the want of change of posture and the constant pressure of one position, f Whilst she was in this state, fresh raeasures of persecution were insti- ? CleD(i, iv, pp, 83, 84, and 86, 87. Bes, i, p, 455. Poul. i. p. 143. t Poul, i, pp, 147 and 148. 266 tuted against the house; and an inquisito rial visit was begun by two ecclesiastics, accompanied by a numerous band of the police. One of these officers, passing through the chamber of the dying Abbess, one day asked her how she felt. She tran quilly replied, " Like a person who is dying," He answered, " Do you speak of death so calmly; does it not amaze you?" She rephed, " No ! since I only came into the world to prepare for this hour,"* Not a day now passed in which the mo nastery was not harassed by fresh dis quietudes, or tried by afflicting intelligence^ Bad news came, like Job's messengers, from every quarter; and sorrow after sor row followed, like successive billows, over whelming their souls. One day the dying Abbess was told, that the officers of police were come with masons and carpenters, to • Poul, i. pp, 147, 144, 145. Clem. iv. pp. 84, 85, 90,91. Du Fosse, p. 208. Rae. Hist, Ab, pp, 246, 247. 248. 267 wall up the doors of access to the monas* tery. Another time, that parties of archers were prowling about the neighbourhood, and lurking in various disguises, searching all the houses, and prying into every cor ner, in order to discover their confessors, and drag them to the dungeons of the Bas tille, Another time, reports reached her, that all the nuns were to be immediately dispersed.* But these accumulating sor rows had lost their sting, and the vanishing shadows of tirae and sense could no longer disturb the deep tranquiUity of approaching death. The venerable Mother now seemed fast approaching to her last hour upon earth. She lay in a sort of doze, in which, though her outward senses and her mind seemed closed, yet her heart was i^till engaged with God, At this hour of extremity, the nuns were all gathered round her bed, watching the approaches of dissolution on her coun tenance, as she lay perfectly still with her * See note, page 266. 268 eyes closed and her hands clasped in prayer. They wept in silence, whilst the rattling of arms without, as the guard was changed, the vociferations of the archers, and the continual knocking and hammering of the workmen, alone interrupted this scene of death. One of the young nuns, who had been educated by the Mother, and who had the most tender attachment for her, could no longer restrain her indig nation at this last inhuman outrage. ^' Surely," exclaimed she, " these men who are thus inhumanly walling up our doors, are at the same time walling up the gates of heaven against theraselves!"* " My daughter, say not so," said the Abbess, unclosing her eyes, on which the shades of death seemed already gathering ; " the ground and intention of their hearts are known to God alone, their judge and our judge ! Let us rather join in prayer to the throne of raercy, for tbem and for us."f The nuns, however, seeing their spiritual * See note, page 266, f Ibid. 269 Mother bereft of every huraan aid and corafort, both temporal and spiritual, in her last moraents, could not longer restrain their grief; they burst into tears, and sobbed aloud, or wept bitterly. " My daughters," said the Abbess, " I never placed any man in the stead of God ! Blessed then be his goodness ; I have uot now man, but God to depend upon ; his mercies never fail those who believe, and who place their reliance and trust in his name,"* Thus did the peace of God, which passes all understanding, truly keep her heart and mind, and establish it in that support and consolation, which as the world did not give; neither could it take away. She then again' fell into a doze, which appeared as the prelude of death. The nuns were every moraent entering the roora with tidings of aggravated cala mities and' violence; they spoke to each »'Clein. ivk pj^. 53,54. Bes. i. p. 454. Du Fosse>: p. 208, • 270 other in a whisper, supposing the dying Ab bess did not hear. She, however, suddenly said, " My dear sisters, when I consider the dignity of sucb an affliction, I tremble ! How unworthy are we of the honor of suffering for our Lord and for his truth ! I am abased to the dust in thinking of it."* Nevertheless, the acts of violence which were thus exercised against them, sufficient ly shewed how much the raind of the King had been influenced by those who were inimical to Port Royal, or rather to the cause of scriptural and spiritual Christia nity, the zealous defence of which had rendered it obnoxioiis.f The dying Abbess determined, therefore, to address a last letter to the Queen-Mo ther, who had a particular esteera for her brother, M. Arnauld d'Andilli ; and, with her • Bes, tom. i. p. 461. Clem, tom, iv, p. 83, Du Fosse, 207, t Clem. tom. iv. p. 66 to 80, and note, 79. Bes, tom. i. pp. 458, 459. Rae. Hist. Ab. pp. 241. 243, Poul, tom. i, p. 145 to 147. 271 dying hand, to raake one more effort, thg,t its last act might be not only of service to her community, but a defence to the cause of truth in which they had suffered,* Accordingly she dictated a long letter, which has been considered a model of piety, wisdom, and eloquence ; so that the court, on receiving it, considered it as the offspring of the united talents of Arnauld, Nicole, and Saci,f This celebrated letter was dictated at various intervals ; and almost every line was interrupted by the faintings or convul sions of its author. When finished it was read over to the Ablsess, who again raade sorae corrections, and it was then des patched, J After which she said to the nuns around, " Now ray earthly business is done!"§ From that moraent she would no longer enter into the consideration of any worldly * See note t) page 270. f Ibid. X ^^id. § Bes. tom. i. pp. 455, 456. Poul. tom. i. p. 147 to 149. 272 concern, but solely occupied her thoughts with the consideration of eternity.* During her whole illness, indeed, she was in a constant state qf recollection ; her eyes were usually raised towards heaven, and' she seldom spoke, unless in ansvverto any person, except to make short ejacu- latory prayers, or thanksgivings, mostly from the Psalms, or other passages Of Holy Writ.f Although some of the nuns contiriually satin her room, she liked to have the cur tains of her bed drawn, and to be left in solitude. Her weakness and stupor conti nually increased ; but, when her friends softly opened the curtains, to see if she wanted any thing, her hands were joined in prayer, and the raotion of her lips shewed her heart to be still in comraunion with God.$ A young nun having, unadvisedly, one day began to- speak to her on some busi- • See note §, page 271. t Ibid, X I^id, 273 ness, she briefly replied, " My work is done, it is time now to sabbathize,"* As the Abbess drew near her end, her assurance becarae more firm, and her pros pects more bright and consolatory; till at last her setting sun shone with a stedfast, glorious, and peaceful lightf — her fervent faith gilding, with mild beams of heavenly lustre, the darkening prospects around ; and reflecting a rich and glorious effulgence, even from the rude and shapeless skirts of those black clouds whose huge and gathering accumulations, ushered in, with solemn and yet gorgeous majesty, the be nignant closing of her long and bright, and well-spent day. On the twenty-seventh of July, she was seized with a violent shivering fit, which lasted for two hours; then, lifting up her eyes to heaven, and clasping her hands, * See note §, page 271. + Clem. tom. iv. p, 90 to 94. Bes. p. 456 to 457, Poul, tom. i. p. 148. Rae, Hist. Ab. p. 247 to 252. Du Fosse, p, 208. VOL. II. T 274 she said, " This is death ! God be praised ! God's holy will be done ! Blessed be God, for ever and ever!" — Which she often re peated.* From this hour to the last of her life she spoke but little, being reduced almost to the last stage of human weakness. It was only observed that she prayed, and that continually. During the last days, she often repeated these words from Isaiah : " Do mine, miserere nostri ; te enim expectavi- raus : esto brachiura in mane, et salus nos tra in tempore tribulationis,"f The M, Angelique of St. John, her niece, and daughter of M. d'AndiUi, said to her, " Alas, my mother ! this time of tribulation is already come." The Abbess, turning towards her, said, " It is good for us, ray daughter."! On the 4th of August, the same lady, hearing her pray continually, said to her, " My dear mother, you forget us; you pray for yourself only," The M, Ange- * See note f, page 273, f Ibid. { Ibid, 275 lique then clasped her hands, and, exert ing all her remaining strength, said, with an accent of the deepest emotion, " My God, have raercy upon thera all ! My God^ I say upon all! Yes, upon EVERY ONE!" She then added, " Particeps ego sum ora- niura timentium te, et custodientiura man- data tua. Qui timent te, videbunt me et Isetabuntur, quia in verba tua supersperavi. In te, Domine, sperayi, non confundar in aeternum," She said this last with diffi culty, and then fell into a doze, frora which awaking, she said, several times, adieu ! adieu, my children 1 I am going !* The next day, the 5th of August, the physicians, seeing she was at the point of death, advised the last sacraraents to be administered without delay ; at which pro position the Abbess imraediately revived, and occupied herself in repeating verses from the Psalms, whUst her roonj was pre paring. She received the viaticum with » See note f. page 273. T 2 276 a fervor of soul, which animated her whole countenance with a beaming joy and peace, that seemed already a foretaste of heaven.* Then, seeing the community dissolving in tears, she said, " My dear children, adieu, adieu ! Let us go to God !" She then thanked the priest who attended her ; and addressed words of exhortation and consolation to the whole company, gave her benediction to her community, and calling them one by one to her, said a few words to each.f After this, she fell into a peaceful slumber, during which her spirit departed to God her Saviour.J ' The Reverend Mother Marie Jaqueline Angelique Arnauld, died in the year 1661, on Sunday, the 6th of August ; a day on which the church alike ¦commemorates the resurrection and transfiguration of our Lord. Besogne draws her character in the fol lowing terms : " She united a profound hu- * See note f, page 273. t Ibid. + Ibid. 277 mility to a sublirae genius. Her capacious and coraprehensive understanding, and rare sagacity, superseded the necessity of cuili- yated talents. She corabined a noble ge nerosity and lofty raagnaniraity, with an as tonishing simplicity and an undeviating in tegrity. Endued with grandeur and strength of soul above her sex ; with an impregna ble firraness in the midst of the most press ing dangers, and the most harassing con tradictions; she was eminently gifted with a fervour of faith worthy of the apostolic times ; with, an ardent zeal for the good of her neighbour ; a parental tenderness for her nuns; a sovereign contempt for all sub lunary goods; and a magnificent liberality towards the poor. The rich assemblage of all these virtues, joined to an almost super natural and intuitive superiority of wisdom, formed the character of this incomparable woman, and truly adrairable Christian he roine."* * Bes, i, pp. 457,458, 278 The life of the Mother Angelica is, how ever, perhaps her best eulogium. The foundress of an institution which was the light of her century and of her church, by its example ; as it still is of ours, by the luminous precepts of piety it has left be hind ; the latest posterity will be under ob ligations to the fidelity, with which this ex cellent nun, when a girl of seventeen, cor responded to the light then vouchsafed her. Those who are more intimately acquaint ed with the history of Port Royal, wiU ve nerate in the character of the M, Angelique, a rare union of the wisdom of the legis lator, the energy and intrepidity of the hero, the fervor and spirituality of an evange list, and the constancy of a martyr. The Mother Angelica died at the age of seventy. Her corpse was exposed, accord ing to custom, at the grate which divided the chapel from the nuns' choir. The news of her death was soon spread over Paris. The common people, who revered her as a saint, fiUed the chnrch, and carae in crowds 279 to look at her. For a whole day and night, two nuns were continually eraployed in dis tributing through the grate, little remem brances of her to the multitude without, who were all bathed in tears. At the time of M. Angelica's death, M. Singlin and M, de Saci, the directors of Port Royal, were concealed in an obscure lodging in the neighbourhood. They heard the solemn stroke of her passing bell. They saw the crowds which thronged the con vent-door, and they heard the tolling for her funeral. They guessed the occasion, but it was impossible to have any comrau nication with the raonastery. Neither could they make any inquiry, without betraying themselves, and, consequently, exposing their lives. A short time after the M. Angelica's fu neral, the lieutenant of the police, with two hundred archers, went to both the houses of Port Royal. They forcibly entered the chapter-house, and seized eighteen of the nuns. They were placed in separate car riages. Each was conveyed, under a strong 280 escort, to a different raonastery. There they were iraprisoned in sraall cells, and treated with the greatest rigor. Among these nuns, were the venerable Mother Agnes, then very infirm ; and the sister AngeUca of St, John Arnauld, This lady, afterwards so celebrated as Abbess of Port Royal, possessed all the strength of mind of her aunt, the M. Angelica, She had, perhaps, a still superior genius and intellec tual cultivation. After a very rigorous im prisonment for a considerable time,they were all sent back to Port Royal des Charaps, The sister Angelica was chosen Abbess, and the community flattered themselves with the hope of a peaceful enjoyraent of their beloved seclusion. In this hope they were mistaken. The house was imme diately surrounded by an armed guard, sentries were placed at every door. They Avere forbidden from even taking the air in their own gardens. They were deprived of their ministers; interdicted the sacraments; and declared rebels and heretics. This iniquitous persecution lasted some 281 years. During that time great numbers died, in consequence of the cruelties and insults they underwent. They expired, praying for their persecutors, though they were, even then, denied Christian commu nion, and were, after their death, refused the rites of Christian sepulture. It was at this juncture that M. Lancelot's letter was Written to the M, AngeUca of St, John, He happened to have an opportunity of send ing it by M, de Brienne, During this heavy persecution, the constancy, pru dence, and piety, of the M. Angelica, was the stay and support of the coraraunity. The recluses, meanwhile, were exposed to sufferings little less severe than the nuns. Hand-bills were posted in the corners of every street, offering rewards to those who should apprehend them. Many of the clergy did not hesitate to express their hopes of bringing them to the Bastille, or the stake. They wandered from one hiding place tb another, with their lives in their hands. Not unfrequently the police-officers search- 282 ed the very rooras in which they lay con cealed. At length, M. Singlin died frora the extreraity of suffering, M. de Saci and M, Fontaine were seized, and put in the Bastille. Their arrest was accompanied with many circumstances of unnecessary cruelty. During their stay in the Bastille, they were continually threatened with poison. How often may the just retribution of God be traced even in this life ! The officer, who thus exceeded his comraission, in unmerci fully persecuting the servants of his Lord, himself died a death of torture, two months after, by the hand of his own child. This officer was M, Aubray, father to the famous, or rather infamous, poisoner, the Marchio ness de BrinviUiers. This persecution of the Port Royalists continued for sorae years. Meanwhile, that part of their friends, whom I have described as only occasion ally retiring to Port Royal, escaped the ex tremity of the tempest. They were, in deed, marked as Jansenists in the public eye, but their high rank exempted them 283 , from violence, and their eminent virtue and integrity in discharging the most impor tant trusts, compelled universal respect and esteem. M. de Pomponne, son to M. d'AndiUi, and brother to the Abbess of Port Royal, was minister of state, M, H. Ar nauld was Bishop of Angers ; the Duke of Liancourt was Governor of Normandy, Whole provinces were reaping the fruits of the munificence of the Duke and Duchesse of LongueviUe, and the Prince and Prin cesse of Conti. However bigoted men might be, they were too clear sighted to employ persecution against those with whose exaltation their own interests were so imraediately interwoven. Hence theie, and many other personages of equal merit, still possessed considerable influence. These excellent persons still entertained the most warra affection* and the most pro found veneration for the saints, whose piety had been instruraental in their conversion. They only waited a favorable opportunity to shew the firraness of their attachment, by effectually serving them. 284 As soon as the first fury of the storra had a little spent itself, they consulted together. They resolved to unite their strength, and to exert the whole weight of their influence to serve their friends. Madame de Longue- vUle took upon herself to be the ostensible head of this party. All deliberations were carried on at the hotel Longueville, Under her protection, the Archbishop of Sens, the Bishop of Chalons, with. Arnauld and Ni cole, drew up a plan of pacification. They proposed, that on their part, the signature of the formulary should be conceded, on condition that on the Pope's, an explana tion should be accepted. This explanation contained a full submission in matters of faith, and promised, as before, a respectful silence in matters of fact. The Duchess of Longueville wrote her self to the Pope on the subject. Clement IX. had then just entered on his pontifi cate. He was a man of a pacific disposi tion, and had long deplored the divisions of the church. He imraediately issued a brief of reconciliation. This act was terra- 285 ed the pacification of Clement IX. It took place in 1668, The prison doors were immediately open ed, M, Arnauld was introduced at court. The recluses returned in peace to Port Royal. The nuns were released from their long confinement. The confessors and di rectors were restored. Universal felicita tions were made to the Jansenists, Even the Gallican clergy and the Archbishop of Paris, who had declared them rebels and heretics, joined in congratulations. They found no difficulty, at the King's request, in proclaiming their perfect orthodoxy and sanctity. The joy of the common people was unbounded; for they had always con sidered the Jansenists as saints. But above all, the joy of the venerable directors was great, vvhen they found that their flock, though so long scattered, had individuaUy deepened in piety. They were as the three children coraing out of the furnace, not only with their clothes unsinged, but loosed frora the bonds with which they entered,' 286 The period which imraediately succeeded this persecution, was the brightest in the annals of Port Royal, The farae of this seclusion was extensively spread. Its re putation, both for learning and sanctity, was firraly established. The nuraber of nuns and of recluses becarae augmented in a degree far exceeding that of any former period. Amongst several of the new re cluses were persons of very large fortune. Considerable sums were expended in en larging the monastery and gardens. The Duke of Luynes and M. de Bagnols had each appropriated immense sums to add to the abbey. The forraer of these gentlemen alone built an additional dormitory, con taining seventy-two cells. The Duke of Liancourt also and Madame de Longue ville built several new apartments. Port Royal des Champs becarae one of the most spacious abbeys in all France. It contained nearly two hundred nuns, besides a very considerable number of ladies, who had apartments in tbe monastery, and whose - 287 piety induced them to wish to board there without assuraing the monastic habit. The recluses also had very considerably increas ed their nurab^s, and the celebrity of Port Royal had trebly multipUed the number of those friends, who wished to be under their direction, Farailies of rank, aflfluence, and piety;, who did not wish to quit their avoca tions in the world, built themselves country houses in the valley of Port Royal, in order to enjoy the society of its pious and learned inhabitants. Amongst this class were the Duchess of LongueviUe,' the Duke and Du chess of Luynes, and of Liancourt. The Port Royalists might now be di vided into three general classes. The nuns, who occupied the monastery, and followed the rule of Cisteaux, The recluses, who led a retired life, free from all luxury or unnecessary intercourse with men, and who each served the whole community by fol lowing some occupation either manual or intellectual. These were bound by no vows. They, at this period, consisted of two companies. The men who lived at 288 the farm-house belonging to Port Royal and other small cottages, and the ladies above raentioned, wbo boarded in apart ments in the monastery. The third class was composed of the innumerable multitude of friends under their direction. Some of them had country houses near Port Royal^ and others only occasionally retired to board there. The institution now began to be, a very considerable one. It had been long im portant in the eyes of the world, from the literary celebrity and acknowledged piety of its persecuted inhabitants. It now began to be so from the magnitude of its nurabers, and frora the iraraense wealth and exalted rank of a large proportion of its raerabers. For eleven years it continued to flourish. Its prosperity and usefulness seemed to in crease day by day. On every side it ap peared blessing and blessed. The same God who had given them grace sufficient to their day in adversity, now bestowed on them that double portion which is needful to stand in prosperity. Though so many 289 rich, so many noble, so many learned, were caUed, still Port Royal stood a bright example of unfeigned humility, and- self- abaseraent ; of self-denial, charity, daily taking up the cross, and foUowing a cru cified Lord. For the short space of eleven years they shone forth, a brilliant example of the union of almost every gift of nature and of grace. At the end of this period Madame de Longueville died. Her death took place in 1679. It then clearly appeared what had been the real motive /or suspend ing the persecution. The King s re-^ spect for so near a relative, was the true cause of the Jansenists being so long un molested during the life of that princess. She had scarcely been deceased one month, before the Jesuits openly renewed their hos tUities, That storra now burst upon thera which finally overwhelmed Port Royal. All the recluses received an order from government finally and imraediately to quit Port Royal, Most of them died in poverty and exile, VOL. II, u 29Q but rich in faith and good works, A linger ing, but cruel persecution, was instituted against the nuns, who were now deprived of their protectors. They were first inter dicted frora receiving either scholars or novices. This alone would have insured the terraination of the estabhshment. But their enemies were not content with waiting what might be called its natural death. They found means to wrest from them the house of Port Royal de Paris and half their revenues. Although thus unjustly deprived of their property, their charity did not fail. They had formerly maintained four medi cal men on purpose to attend the poor. Their funds were now inadequate to this expense. They learned to dress their wounds themselves. As they had formerly poured forth charities out of their abun dance, they now denied themselves, to con tinue them in their poverty. They have frequently, with a cheerful countenance, made a liberal donation, wben, at the sarae tirae, they had not wherewith to purchase food for the next meal. 291 Thus affairs continued till the year 1710, At that period its final destrviction was resolved upon. M, d'Argenson, with 300 archers, invested Port Royal de^ Champs. The nuns were seized and placed in separate carriages. Each was guarded by armed men. They were not allowed even ten minutes to take a last adieu of each other £|.nd of Port Royal, Tbey set out at a very advanced season of tjie year, and without having broken their fast. They were each conveyed to separate mo nasteries. There they were to be impri soned for life. Many of tbem only survived a few days the hardship of their journey, and the brutality with whicli they were treated.* Scarcely were the nuns out of the house, * We take the liberty of referring the" reader tp '-' Tlie Narrative of the I^emfilitimi of Port Ro^al." Tlje destruction of this venerable monastery, and the ends gf its pious inhabitants, present too interesting and edifying a history to be crowded into this succinct sketch, U 2 292 when this abbey, so venerable for a suc cession of pious inhabitants, was abandoned to pillage. An hundred carts loaded with its spoils were taken away. The poor stood around weeping, A considerable sum was raised by the collection of the offerings made by the villagers to purchase little relics of their beloved Port Royal. Yet even this destruction could not satiate the vengeance of their implacable enemies. They were offended at the respect expressed by the neighbouring peasants to the ruined remains of Port Royal, They beheld, with an envious eye, the veneration with which they visited the cemetery which contained the ashes of so long a succession of saints. The house was razed to the ground, and even the very foundations ploughed up. The -gardens and walks were demolished, and the dead were even torn frora their graves, that not a vestige might be left to mark the spot where this celebrated insti tution had stood. 293 Such was the end of Port Royal ! So terminated an institution which had so long shone, a bright exaraple of the union of piety and learning, II is surprising that a society which engaged so rauch attention scarcely a century ago, should now be so little known, in a country which daily en joys the fruits of its labors. Whilst English youth owe the rudiments of ancient litera ture to Lancelot and Arnauld, the formation of their taste to Racine and Pascal; whilst our countrymen derive learning from the labors of Tillemont, and piety from the works of Pascal, Nicole, and Quesnel, surely no English reader ought to be in different to the untimely fate of Port Royal, The. following beautiful description oC Port Royal is translated from a work of tbe Rev, M, Petitpied, entitled— ^" Obedientiaj credulas vana Religio," vid, 2 vol, cap. 9. p, 21. It was written at the close of 1710, a very short tirae after the iraprisonment of the nuns, and before the final demolition of the monastery in 1711. 294 " 11 n'y a point eu de monast^re oil la discipline, riguli^re se soit mieux soutenue. Jamais on n'a eu une maison plus sainte, plus 61oign6e de la corrup tion du monde, plus attentive aux loix de I'Eglise, plus soumise aux pasteurs, plus attachee i toutes les regies. " Le voeu de la pauvret6 religieuse s'y observoit dans toute son 6tendiie. Les soears ne poss6doient rient en propre ; tout 6toit en commun parmi elles ; et encore dans I'usage de ces biens qu'elles poss6- doient en commun, quelle admirable simplicity, quelle moderation, quel 61oignement du faste et de la vanit6 1 Tant qu'il leur a ^te permis de recevoir des filles a la profession de- la vie religieuse, jamais une riche dot n'a 6t6 le prix du vceu de la pauvret6, et leur maison toujours ferm6e a la faveur, ^ la re commendation, aux int6r^ts hu mains, ne s'ouvroit qu'^ la vertu 6prouv6e et 4 la vocation clairement re- connue. On les voyoit pleines de respect pour les tn^res, mais de ce respect qui produit Taming et la colifiance. Elles vivoient ensemble dans la plus parfaite' union. Les entretiens avec les persounes du dehors ^toient rares, mais sans familiarity, et toiyours sous les yeux d'une assistante. " On admiroit ce profond silence qui r^gnoit dans la maison, c6tte nlodestie s^rieuse, cette unifonnit6 dans les exercises, cette application continuelle i la priere, ces larmes si douces et si consolantes, qui ^* 295 ^toient le fruit, ces lectures ^galement pieuses et solides, 61oign6es de toute vaine curiosity, ces au- mones vers^es avec abondance dans le sein des pauvres. La vie y 6toit austere et frugale, le sommeil court, les veilles longues et frequentes, les jeiines soutenus jusqu'au soir, la foi pure, I'esp^ranee anim6e, la cfaarit6 brulante, L'interieur de la maison 6toit pour les jeunes filles un 6cole de vertu et de pi6t6 ; rext^rieur 6toit rempli de laiques vertueux, qui s'6xer- (Qoient courageusement dans les plus rudes travaux de la penitence, H61as, qui peut dire corabien il s'y est form6 de saints qui ne sont connus que de Dieu seul, et dont les cendres sont cachees dans ces lieux jusqu'au terns de la manifestation I " Que dirai-je de I'office public de I'Eglise ! Quel concours nuit et jour 1 Quelle assiduity I Quelle pers6v6rance ! Quelle violence, pour me servir de I'expression de TertuUien, ne faisoit-on point h Dieu, par I'union de ces pri^res si ferventes et si anim6es ! Les c^r^monies s'y faisoient avec dignit^, mais sans pompe, et avec une simplicity Sdifiante, Le chant ravissoit : vous auriez cru en tendre des anges, C'6toit des voii douces, distinctes, articul6es, harmonieuses, touchautes, qui attendrisr soient jusqu'd fajres r^pandre des larmes, et qui reni" plissoient en m^me terns le cceur de joie et de con« solation. 296 " L'auguste majest6, de Dieu se faisoit sentir dans ces saiuts lieux. Jesus Christ present sur I'autel y 6toit adorl continueliement, nuit et jour, sans inter ruption. Les saints myst^res y etoient offerts avec une terreur sainte, religieuse, et pleine de foi. L'ar- dent amour que ces pieuses filles avoient pour Jesus Christ, leur faisoit d^sirer sans cesse de recevoir sou- vent la divine Eucharistie, avec un empressement et u!i feu dont I'activit^ pourtant 6toit quelquefois retenue par un vif sentiment d'humilit6 et de peni tence. " O sainte vallee ! O sacree demeure ! O cendres des saints qui reposent dans ces lieux J Le monast^re de Port Royal peut bien etre renyerse, mais la pos- t^rite saura ce que ni la suite des si^cles, ni I'iniquite des hommesj ne feront jamais oublier, que cette maison si sainte a peri enfin — ^non pas par aucun crime qui s'y soit commis, non par I'ambition des religieuses, non par aucun diflf6rend survenu entre elles, non par de folles et excessives depenses, non par des edifices somptueux tem^rairement entrepris, non par le relachement de la discipline, qui depuis cent ans qu'elle ^ 6t6 etablie dans ce monastere, s'y est toujours 6galement soutenue; mais, ce qui est incroyable, par un scrupule religieux, et par uti attachement inviolable k la sinc6rit6 Chretienue. Chose inouie jusqu'a nos jours ! Et quand m&me 297 il n'en resteroit aucun monument ^crit, les ruines mfime de ce lieu, si digne de veneration, eieveront, pour ainsi dire, leur voix, et serviront de temoignage eternel?" This exquisitely beautiful passage could only be spoiled by a translation. EXTRAITS DES ECRITS de M. M. DE PORT ROYAL, Sur la Lecture de I'Ecriture Sainte. M. DE Saci * recitoit souvent avec plaisir cette parole d'un homme d'esprit, qui lui sembloit belle, " Que tout le mal du monde venoit de cequ'on ne pouvoit demeurer tranquille dans sa chambre." II donnoit (aux solitaires de P. R.) en cela I'example lui meme, II ne pouvoit pas les attirer par d'autres delices que par celles qu'il trouvoit lui meme dans son cabinet ; c'est a dire, par les lectures de piete, maife particulierement par la lecture de I'Ecriture Sainte. C'est d quoi il ex- hortoit particulierement tons ces Messieurs. Puisant sans cesse dans cette source pure les regies de sa con- duite, il recommandoit aux autres aussi d'y venir pui- ser, pour y desalterer leur soif par quelques gouttes * M. du Saci I'^I^ve de M. de St, Cyran, ^oit le Direoteitf et Confesseur du Monastere de Port Royal des Champs, 300 des eaux celestes. " Une goutte d'eau," nous disoit-il, " qui ne suffit pas a un homme, suffit a un oiseau. Les eaux sacrees ont cela de particulier, qu'elles se proportionnent et s'accommodent a un chacun. , Un agneau y marche, et elle est en meme-tems assez pro- fonde qu'un elephant puisse y nager." Que ne puis-je bien imprimer dans mon coeur le sacre respect avec lequel il nous exhortoit de faire cette lecture! II nous portoit a dire comme I'Apotre: "O altitudo divitiarum sapientiae et scientis Dei !" nous contentant d'entendre cette voix celeste comme la regie qui doit redresser notre vie, et qui ensuite la jugera a notre mort. Quoique le soin principal de M. de Saci de se nour- rir de I'Ecriture Sainte, et que cette lecture seule fut abondammant sufHsante pour le rendre parfaitement instruit de tout ce qui regarde le salut, il ne conseilloit pas neanmoins a ceux qu'il conduisoit, en lisant I'Ecri ture Sainte, de se servir de commentaire ou d' explica tion. II exhortoit tout le monde a lire les livres de Dieu en la maniere que les Saints les avoient lus. II leur representoit que c'etoit plus par la saintete de la vie que les saints peres avoient autrefois entendu les livres de Dieu, que par le travail et 1' etude, et par les moyens humains ; que pour lui, il avoit compris par experience que cette metbode est sans doute la meilleure de toutes, pour entendre I'Ecriture Sainte. II faut regarder I'Ecriture comme la foi regarde les mysteres, et n'y point meler son esprit naturel. II ne faut point sauter les mots, mais les bien peser : tacher 301 de concilier les passages qui semblent se contredire, et recevoir humblement ce que Dieu donne, sans vouloir rien . davantage. La soumission Vt la depen dance qu'on temoigne ainsi d Dieu, lui plait plus que toutes les lumieres des autres. " C'est la maniere," disoit-il, " dont en ont use les saints, et c'est ainsi que nous devons lire I'Ecriture apres eux. L'experience nous contraindra toujours d'avouer et de reconnoitre qu'l n'y a point d'autre voye pour acqucrir cette lumiere divine, et que ceux qui voudront y parvenir autrement, perdront leurs peines, et seront toujours dans des tenebres dont iis ne pourront jamais sortir." Un saint eveque de fees derniers tems, disoit qu'il iroit au bout du monde avec St. Augustin, et MOf j'lROlS AVEC la ^IBLE. M. de Saci avouoit que c'etoit de cette maniere qu'il t4cboit d'apprendre a conduire les autres, puisqu'on trouvoit dans I'Ecriture Sainte la lumiere qui est neces- saire pour s'acquilter de ce devoir si grand et si re- doutable, et pour n'^tre point du nombrcxde ces guides aveugles qui se precipitent dans I'egarement en y precipitant les autres ; non qu'ils ne soient souvent habiles, et qu'ils ne puissent avoir beaucoup de lumidre, d'esprit et de science, mais parce qu'ils n'ont pas la lumiere de I'Ecriture et de I'Esprit de Dieu, qui con- noit seul les cboses de Dieu, et sans lequel tout autre suffisance et toute autre lumiere est aveugle. M. de Saci se remplissoit ainsi dans la lecture de la 302 parole de Dieu, de tons ces dons et de toutes ces clartec, qu'il repandoit ensuite sur les autres, N. Fontaine, mem. de P. R. tom. i. pp. 385, 386, 387, 38S, 389, Edit. Utrecht. M. de St. Cyran renfermoit toute sa piete dans la lecture de I'Ecriture et des P^res. On peut dire que sa maniere de lire I'Ecriture Sainte etoit aussi toute sainte ; et il remarquoit souvent que pour la bien entendre, il la falloit lire avec le meme esprit avec laquelle elle avoit ete ecrite; c'est -4-dire avec une grande piete, accompagnee d'un respect tout particulier pour la majeste divine qui y reside plus par ticulierement que'autrefois dans le propitiatoire. Aussi il avoit une estime si grande pour I'Ecriture Sainte que souvent il nous disoit que nous ne devious presque lire autre chose ; que les Peres ne liseient que cda, et que nous y trouverions tout si nous la lisions comme il faut, C'est pourquoi il vouloit qu'on en pesat toutes les paroles comme qui peseroit une piece d'or, Quoiqu'il honorit toute I'Ecriture, I'Evangile nean moins faisoit sa principale devotion. II avoit accoutum4 de dire qu'on en remportoit de fruit et de la lumiere pour sa conduite i proportion de la foi avec laquelle on s'en approchoit. II remarquoit aussi qu'encore que St. Paul fut incom parable, I'Evangile neanmoins etoit infiniment plus releve, parceque m les epitres de cet apotre etoient le 303 langage d'un homme divin, I'Evangile etoit le langage d'un Homme-Dieu, II pbservoit aussi que St. Paul avoit tire tons ses principes et la p]{i|)3rt de ses pensees de I'JEvangile, nous donnapt par li I'exemple de faire de m^me, et il en avpjt dress^ un parraUele fort con siderable. II vouloit qp'on regard3,t simplement Dieu dans la lecture comme dans la priere ; — aussi il disoit que la meiUeure maniere de lire I'Ecriture etoit de le fiaire fort simpleojent, en s'appliquant toutes les verites que Foji y voit, et en les reduisant en pratique, C'est ajnsi que M, de St, Cyran lisoit I'Evangile, et c'est de cette sorte qu'il en a tire tant d'ihstructions ad- mirables qui se repandoient dans ses discours et d3.ns ses ecrits ; ce qui les remplissoient d'une ppction mer- veilleuse, Aussi Ton peut dire de ce grand serviteur de Dieu, que I'Ecriture Sainte etoit son trespy, et qu'il y roettoit son cpeur, sentant verite^lement dai)s iiji cjstte disposition pii etoit David, lorsqu'il Confesspit qvi'il aimoit mieux la parole de Dieu que tons les trespr? du monde, et les pierres les plus precieuses, , Memoires de Lancelot, torn, ii, pp, 85, 8§, ,87, (L'Af>6tre nous enseigne ici que Dieu nous a donne sa parole sainte pour npys instruire et pour aous con.- soler, II y a syjjet de s'etpnner du peu de spin que Kon * de' cpnsidejreir pe que c'est que i'Ecriture Sainte, et 304 quel est le fruit que nous en devons tirer. On estime les livres faits par les plus grands personpages en toutfes sortes d'arts et de sciences; ou naturelles, ou morales, ou seculieres, ou eclesiastiques ; que seroit- ce si on nous offroit un livre compose par un ange, et par un des plus eclaires de tous les angesi quelle veneration devons nous done avoir pour un livre com pose par le createur des hommes et des anges, autant eleve aux dessus des uns et des autres, que ce qui est infini par soi-meme est eleve au dessus de ce qui n'est par soi-m6me qu' un neant ? Ainsi nous ne pouvons avoir trop de respect pour ces paroles sacrees, ni trop d'ardeur pour y puiser les enseignemens qui nous sont necessaires pour notre salut, Mais en vain temoignerons nous estimer I'Ecriture Sainte, si nous ne faisons ce qu'elle nous commande ; et comment le pourrons nous faire, si nous n'avons soin de la lire ? C'est pourquoi Dieu meme nous ex- horte si souvent a ne pas oublier sa loi; parce qu'il est aise que mille cboses etrangeres qui se glissent dans I'ame et qui la dissipent, en effacent le souvenir, Le monde au dehors, et les passions au dedans, combat- tent sans cesse ces verites saintes, Ainsi nous sommes obliges pour y puiser ce fond de doctrine dont St, Paul nous park, d'en renouveller tou jours la memoire dans notre esprit, de peur de nous egarer en perdant de vue ce qui nous doit conduire dans le cbemin du salut. Car nous marchons pendant cette vie dans un chemin glissant, convert de tenebres, «t environne de precipices. Qui done ne souhaitera 305 -^e trouver une lumiere qui le guide dans Ce sentier «troit, d'ou il est si aise; de s'ecarter, et ou' il est si dif- .ficile.de tenir une route droite et assuree? Et quelle .peut etre cette lumiere sinon la parole de Dieu, qui est appellee une lampe, parce qu'elle doit nous conduire i, chaque pas, et nous eclairer dans la nuit obscure dei cette vie ? Aussi la loi ancienne, et la nouvelle, s' accordent d nous ordonner de mediter la parole de Dieu jour et nuit. C'est done en quelque sorte eteindre cette lampe que de ne se pas rendre attentif a ce que cette parole nous presCrit; comme c'est au contraire la tenir toujours allumee, que de nous appliquer con tinueliement a ses instructions divines. Instructions aux Religieuses de Port Royal, par M. BE Singlin, Confesseur et Directeur de Port Royal; edit, .8vo. d Paris, 1735, tom. i. pp. 23, 24. Les Jesuites se trouvent encore sur cc point entiere- ment opposes aux Saints Peres, qui ne pouvoient se Jasser d'exhorter d la lecture des livres saints les iid^les qu'ils instruispient. Saint Chrysostome dit, dans une de ses Homelies, qu'il n'y a que le diable qui puisse detourner de cette lecture. Dans les plus beaux si^cles de I'Eglise, les Chretiens trouvoient leurs delices dans la meditation de I'Ecriture, etils en faisoient leur nourriture continuelle. Les pasteurs I'expliquoient dans les as sembles, et recommandoient aux fideles de la lire as- siduementdans leurs maisons, etde la faire apprendre i VOL, H. 3f 306 leurs enfans. Ce que nous savons des mceurs des Chre tiens de ces heureux tems, fait voir avec quel avantage iis suivoient en cela les avis de leurs pasteurs.* H peut sans doute arriver qu'il y ait des personnes qui abusent de I'Ecriture, Mais ne peut-on pas abuser des meil- leures cboses; et n'en abuse-t-on pas tous les jours? Combien de personnes abusent des Sacremens, de I'as- sistance d la messe ? Les inlerdit-on generalement d cause de cet abus ? Non sans doute : mais on instruit et on apprend d en bien user. On doit d plus forte raison faire la meme chose d I'egard de la lecture de I'Ecriture Sainte. f M. M. de Port Royal ont combattu ces faux principes par des ouvrages solides. lis ont travaille toute leur vie d repandre par tout la lumiere, et d procurer aux fiddles toutes sortes de moyensde s'instruire dfondde la Religion, lis ont enrichi I'Eglise de plusieurs excellentes traductions, tant de I'Ecriture Sainte, que des livres des Saints Peres qui peuvent en faciliter I'intelligence. M, de Sacy en- treprit et acheva la traduction de la Bible entiere pen dant le tems qu'il fut prisonnier d la Bastille, j Les travaux de M. M. de Port Royal ont eu un mer- vielleux succus. La verite a enfin prevalu, du moins en France; et neanmoins ceux qui I'ont fait triompher sont demeures dans I'oppression. La lecture de I'Ecri" • Histoire Ecclesiastique, par I'Abbd Eaciae, tom, xii. pp. S?5, 276. tibid.fl79> t Ibid, seo, 881, 307 ture Sainte, et celle des offices de I'Eglise traduits, y sj ete ?i generalement regardee comme utile, que j^ouis JJ^iy. fit imprimer §. ses d^pens plus de vingtipille l^j^ouyeavix ^est^Wens et Eseautjers pour les distrjbuer. Le gpj^t de la lecture de I'Ecriture Sainte a s} fort preyaju, que les Jesuites ont ete obliges dg parpJItre y cederen franpe, et de dpnner eux memes des traductious el des explic^.- tjpns du Nouveau Testament, comme ont fait Jes Perfis Bouhours, et Lallemant. Pour montrer combien ont ete utiles a I'Eglises les travaux de M.M. de Port Royal sur la lecture de I'Ecriture Sainte, nous rappprterons ici ce que cent evfeques de France establissoient sur cette matiere en 1720, " L'Eglise" disoient-ils, "deposi- taires et interprete des Ecritures, est bien eloignee de vouloir aujourd'hui cacher ce divin tresor d ses enfans : et les nouveaux Reunis, auxquels on a voulu inspirer des preventions sur ce point, peuvent connoitre quel est I'esprit de I'Eglise sur cette lecture, par les ecrits des plus habiles controversistes, par tant de versions im- primees avec I'approbation de plusieurs evSques, el par la conduite que ceux de France ont garde, en mettant entre les mains des nouveaux convertis les livres saints, que la liberalite et la piete du feu Roi leur faisoit distribuer, L'Eglise ne cedera pas aux com munions separees d'elle I'avantage de marquer du zele et de I'ardeur pour la lecture de I'Ecriture."* De combien d'exc^Uens livres de piete M. M, de Port Histoire Ecclesiastique, ZSi, 2B5. x2 308 Royal ont-ils enrichi I'Eglise ! Grace a Messieurs de Port Royal, la Bible, Ie Missal, et Ie Breviaire, tout fut traduit de nouveau ; et les fruits abondans que les fiddles ont retire de ces traductions, ont justifie pleinement ceux qui les leur ont mis entre les mains. Louis XIV. fit distribuer aux nouveaux convertis cent mille ex- emplaires d'heures, cent mille exemplaires separes du tneme ordinaire, el cinquante mille Nouveaux Testa- mens.» * Histoire Ecclesiastique, torn, xiiL pp. 781, 78S. EXTRAITS DES ECRITS de'M. M. de PORT ROYAL, sur la Justifica tion, et de la Necessite de la Foi en Jesus Christ pour etre sauve. JliV. vrai usage de la verite ecrite est qu'elle nous mfine d la verite vivante, qui est Dieu mSme, pour y trouver la force de faire ce que nous lisons. EUe nous fortifie et nous guerit de mSme que la vue du serpent d'airain guerissoit les plaies des serpens de feu. Plus vous vous attacherez ainsi a Jesus Christ sur la croix figure par ce serpent, et d ses plaies qui sont de- venues la guerison des ni&tres, plus vous tirerez du fruit de ces verites saintes qui ne couknt de lui jusqu'd nous, que pour les faire passer de nous jusqu'd lui, afin d'y trouver notre force et notre repos,* {Jesus Christ) etant Dieu et un seul Dieu avec son pere, et n'etant venu au monde que pour satisfaire d sa justice oiTens^e, il (Dieu) a venge sur sa personne les peches de tous les hommes dont il .s'^toit charg^f- Si on regarde Jesus Christ seulement en sa personne, il n'y a point d'autre voye pour retirer I'homme de sa misSre, 11 faut par necessite que cet tlomme Dieu meure pour * IiGttres SpiritnelleS de Saci, ii, p, 649, f Rei, Parf. par la MSre Agnes Arnauld, Abbesse de Pprt Royal, p, 366. 310 le peuple : et selon I'ordre immuable de la providence divine, si le Christ ne soufFre la mort, et la mort de la crojx, il ne peut entrer dans sa gloire, ni nous y don- ner entree,* Mais si Ton regarde tous les hommes en lui comme il les a portes veritablement jusques sur la croix, il n'est pas moins necessaire d'etre dans le meme desi'r pour chacun d'eux, puisque la croix est I'unique espe- rance de tous. Car les pecheurs ne peuvent trouv* ailleurs le pardon de leurs crimes.f Les souflfrances de Jesus Christ font f dus nos merites. C'est par elles que nous sommes les membres vivans de Jesus ChristJ Nous voyons dans I'EcHture et les ouvrages des Peres la justice 'chretienne representee comme I'oeuvre du tout- puissant, (et non du libte arbitre), comme I'effet dusang de Jesus Christ.§ H a voulu mourir par un supplice egalement hohleux et cruel, povir nous apprendre a ne pas vouloir guerir nos propres plaies par un remede qui n'y ait point de rapport.|| C'est lui qui est par consequenccj et a proprement parler, (notre) appui, ¦nptre force, notre sauveur, et notre Dieu. Tout ennemi de la grace est conduit naturellement a meconnoitre le culte que nous devons a Dieu, a pren dre I'ombre de la piete pour ce qui en est le fond et la realite. Un tel homme n'a point de Dieu des idees * Rei. Parf. pp. 393, 394. f Ibid. i Clemencet, x. p. 241. § Racine, Hist. Eccles, Mi, pp, 4 aud 5. t Rei, Paif. p, 311, 311 grossiires comme les Payens; il parlera de ses attributs, et meme de sa puissance avec des expressions magnifi- ques, mais il ote d Jesus Christ sa fonction eminente de Sauveur, II a dans la bouche les termes de grace, de charite, de cul^e interieur. Ainsi il unit ce double charactere, de laisser subsister en apparence toutes verites, en detruisant les plus importantes, et en les alt-erant presque toutes; deconserver I'ecorce du dogme catholique, en lui otant toute sa force et son effi- cace.* Jesus Christ sera lui meme votre lumiere et votre soutien.t Je suis bien aise que vous conserviez tou jours la vue et le souvenir de Jesus Christ. C'est la force de ceux qui n'en ont point. Jeremie temoigne " Ego non sum turbatus tej pastorem sequens." " Je n'ai point etfe troubl6 en vous suivant comme une brebis suit son pasteur." Ces brebis raisonnables et spiritu- elles doivent avoir une confiance d'autant plus grande en suivant ce souverain pasteur, que lui m^me s'est fait agneau pour souffrir et mourir ppur elles. C'est pourquoi il faut le reverer tout ensemble comme agneau et comme pasteur : comme agneau en lui disant avec toute I'eglise : " Agnus Dei, qui toUis peccata mundi mi serere nobis ;" et comme pasteur, en lui disant comme I'eglise chante apr^s Paques : " Pastor bone, qui posu- jsti animam tuam pro ovibus tuis, et pro grege tuo mori dignatus es, miserere npbis."J * Racine, Hist, Eccles, xii. pp. 66, 61, 62. t Saci's Letters, ii. p. 681. | Ibid. i. pp. 73, 7«. 312 Jesus Christ est mort pour nous, et se donne d nous:* II y a un principe stable; il faut tacher de s'y rendre sincerement, et d'etablir I'edifice de notre salut sur la verite de Jesus Christ, et sur I'immobiUte de la pi^rre, et non sur le sable mouvant des pensees, des^ craintes, et des imaginations humaines,t Notre confi' ance est tres ferme, comme dit St. Paul, parcequ'elle est humble. Elle est humble parcequ'elle est fondee sur I'aneantissement de I'homme, et sur I'infinite. de la misericorde de Dieu, et de la vertu du sang. de Jesus Christ, qui sont infinies.J Votre esperance doit etre ferme, parce qu'elle est appuyee sur la vertu du sang de Jesus Christ, qui est infinie, et qui purifie ces infidelites et ces negligences.§ L'Ecriture appelle la presomption d'une foi ferme et humble, lorsque I'ame presume de la misericorde infinie. du P^re, du merite infini du sang de son fils, et de la vertu toute puissante de son saint esprit. Judith, quL etoit si humble, avoit cette divine presomption, lorsqu'- elle dit a Dieu, en s'aneantissant devantlui : "Exaucez. moi dans la priere que je vous offre, moi qui ne suis pleine que de mis^re, mais qui presume de votre mise-; ricorde infinie." C'est etre humble, dit Saint Augustin,. de presumer de cette sorte, et ce n'est pas la temerite,, c'est la foi, qui nous inspire cette confiance. Nous es- perons parce que Dieu nous commande d'esperer. Nous t'sperons parceque Jesus Christ lui-meme est notre es-^ peraiice, qui nous apprend que notre salut est sa gloire, • Saci's Letters, ii. p. 654. t Ibid. 652. f Ibid. 704, 705. § Ibid, 708, 313 et qu'il sauve, en nous sauvant, le prix de sa mort et le fruit de ses soufirances,* II n'est pas necessaires que vous discemiez exacte^' ment jusqu'd quel point votre volonte peut se laisser alter d des cboses que vous ne jugez pas ^tre selon Dieu. II n'est pas necessaire que le malade connoisse toutes ses plaies, puisqu'une des plus grandes que nous ayons, est notre ignorance et notre aveuglement. ' ' II suifit que son medecin les connoisse, et que celui qui nous doit guerir etant tout puissant, nous ayons reoours a lui avec une entiere confiance. La croix de Jesus Christ est une source abondante et surabondante dc misericorde. Elle ne sanctifie pas seulement la Vierge et St, Jean, mais le bon Larron et la Madeleine. Ce- lui-ld n'a point pense qu'il etoit un voleur, ni celle-ci une pecheresse, lis n'ont considere que ces sources de sang qui couloient du corps de Jesus Christ, poijir noyer par un saint deluge les peches du monde, et iis y ont trouve la guerison de leurs plaies, Vous trou* Verez la votre consolation et votre paix,f Vous savez gu'il y a deux etres en nous; I'^tre d'- Adam et I'etre de Dieu, Selon ce premier fetre, nous ne- sommes que peche, ingratitude et orgueil, et nous ne voyons dans nous que des sujets de condemnation : selon le second, nous sommes ce que la grace de Dieu a voulu que nous fussions. Si cette premiere vue etoit seule, elle ne produiroit en nous que la pusillanimite, et ello- » Saci's Letters, ii.pp, 731, 73f. t IJ)id. 597, 598, 314 nous porteroit meme au desespoir, Mais la foi qui nous rend Chretiens, et qui nous a distingue des demons, apres nous avoir montre ce fonds de corruption et de peche qui doit nous humilier profondement, nous montre aiissitot la misericorde infinie de Dieu, fondee sur le sang.de Jesus Christ, comme mediateur et re- conciliateur des hommes avec Dieu, qui est devenu notre esperance, et la guerison de nos plaies, et en quoi consiste, selon St. Paul, tout le mysidre de la reli gion chretienne, II faut done joindre ensemble ces deux vues qui ne doivent jamais etre separees ; la vue de nous m4me et de nos peches ; la vue de Dieu et de Jesus Christ. La premiere nous epouvante ; la seconde nous rassure. La premiere nous humilie ; la seconde nous eleve dans une confiance, que Saint Augustin appelle une presomption sainte qui ne vient pas de I'orgueil, mais qui est le fi-uit de notre foi, Cette confiance est Ires ferme, parce- qu'ejle est humble. Elle est humble parcequ'elle est fondee sur I'aneantissement de I'homme, et sur I'infinite de la misericorde de Dieu et de la vertu du sang de Jesus Christ.* Un homme guerit le corps par des remedes communs ct ordinaires ; mais il n'y a que Dieu qui puisse etre le medecin de I'ame. II n'y a que le sang d'un Dieu qui en puisse ^tre le remede, et il n'y a que I'esprit de Dieu qui puisse continuer et achever en nous la guerison de nos plaies. Ainsi nous ponvous dire que notre plus "* Saci's Letters, ii, p^ 703, T04, 705, 315 grand mal n'est pas d'etre si malades dans I'ame, mais c'est de I'etre sans le savoir et sans le sentir, lors meme que la foi nous en assure, et d'etre en danger de voir avec des yeux ingrats et un coeur dur, un Dieu qui roeurt pour nous apprendre que le peche tue, non seulement les ames, mais un Dieu meme ; que sa mort nous gUerit de ces blessures mortelles, et qu'elle nous fait vivre de la vie de Dieu, Je prie celui qui vous a rendu la vie, de vous faire la grace de la recevoir dc lui comme un present nouveau, avec un esprit nouveau, et un coeur nouveau.* Notre Seigneur nous a impose., une Ipi de souffrir pour lui, lorsqu'il a soufTert pour nous ; mais une loi d'amour et de re- Gonnoissance, qui fait dire a Saint Paul, que la charite de .Jesus Christ nous presse de mourir pour celui qui est mort pour nous, et de ne plus vivre que pour lui seul, Et cependant cette loi n'aura pas la force de nous faire agir, si le St. Esprit ne nous anime. II faut qu'il nous I'impose de nouveau, en repandaBt son feu dans nos coeurs, pour consommer tout Ce qui •'oppose d I'execution de cette loi, et nous faire embrasser tPat ce qu'il y a de plus contraire d la nature.f Personne, dit 1' apotre, ne peut, en parlant par le mouvement du Saint Esprit, dire anadieme au Seigneur Jesus, L'idee seule d'un exces tel que celui de dire anatheme au Seigneur Jesos, fail horreur. Cependant • Saci's Letters, pp. ii, 678, 679. t Reli, Parf, pp. 256, 267. 316 les Saints P^res remarquent qu'il est plus ordinaire qu'on ne se le ptrsuade ; non parmi les Payens qui ne recon- noissent pas Jesus Christ, non parmi les Mahometans, qui le respectent au moins comme un grand Prophete ; non parmi les Juifs qui n'ont jamais voulu lui donner la qualite de Seigneur, de Dieu, ni le reconnoitre pour le •Christ, pour le Messie ; mais parmi les Chretiens memes. El qui sont done ces blasphemateurs ? Soiit- ce \es impies de profession ? Non, lis renoncent aux loix et aux esperances du Christianisme ; mais pour I'ordiiiaire iis n'en contestent pas les dogmes. Ces blasphemateurs sont souvent des fersonnes de piete: c'etoit dejd du temps de Saint Au;,rustin, des moines edifians a I'exterieur, des ministres memes et des maitres dans la religion. Enfin, selnn les Peres, ceux-ld disent en quelqne sorte anatheme d Jesus, qui le rejettent dans sa qualite de Sauveur, en se regardant eux memes comme les auteurs de leurs justice et de leur salut. C'est sur ce principe que Saint ^ugustin ne craint point de dire, en parlant de Pelage, qu'il a voulu oter a Jesus Christ le nom de Jesus, c'est-d-dire, le nom de Sauveur, en ne lui laissant que celui de Christ, qui si- gnifie oint et Roi. Car en niant I'efficace du secours de Jesus Christ qui nous fait Chretiens et qui nous sauve, il a voulu detruire TefTet de ce nom auguste. II s'est etabli lui mSme son Jesus et son Sauveur, II n'a pas voulu invoquer le nom tout puissant de son Sauveur ; mais sa propre foiblesse, qu'il croyoit assez puissante pourle sauver. Arius avoit voulu oter a Jesus Christ le nom de Dieu. Ptlage lui a voulu oter le nom de Sau. 317 veur et de Jesus, II le reconnoit comme Createur des hommes par sa puissance, mais non comme le Justifica- TEUR et le Sauveur des hommes par sa grace. Aussi Saint Augustin, exprimant I'erreur de cet heretique, le fait parler d Dieu en cette maniere : " C'est vous qui nous avez fait hommes ; mais c'est nous memes qui nous sommes faits justes. C'est dire en quelque sorte, selon le langage de Saint Paul, anatheme au Siegneur Jesus ; ce qu'on ne peut faire en parlant par le mouvement du Saint Esprit."* * Instructions aux Religieuses de Port Royal par Siuglin, iv. pp. 194, 195, 196. NOTES. Note 1. ST. FRANCIS DE SALES. St, Francis be Sales vras a native of the diocese of Geneva, He was born in 1567, at the Chateau de Sales. The Count de Sales, his father, intended him for the law, in which his talent soon procured him distinc tion. The early and deep piety of Francis soon led him to entertain other views. At the early age of eighteen he solemnly dedicated himself to the service of God, and determined to renounce all secular pursuits. He re linquished his title in favour of bis brother ; and en tered himself into the church. His fervent piety soon rendered bim conspicuous. He was appointed to a la borious mission amongst the Calvinists and Zuinglians. They chiefly inhabited the region immediately surround ing the Alps. The hardships which St. Francis under went in this undertaking, were prodigious. His escapes at times appeared almost miraculous. The success with which these missions were crowned, was almost un exampled. He is said, in the short space of twelve years, to have been instrumental in proselyting seventy thpusand persons. 319 St. Francis de Sales vvas nominated Bishop and Prince of Geneva, in 1603, The piety of men of eqjaally deep religion often assumes distinct characters, according to the peculiar service they are designed by God to ren der the church, St, Francis de Sales' holds one of the first ranks amongst enlightened mystics. The deep piety and spirituality which breathes throughout his works, is said by some, to have formed the early taste of Fenelon, It is certain that the archbishop of Cam bray was a great admirer of his writings. It forms a singular coincidence, that he was not only named after St, Francis, but bore so striking a resemblance, in every part of his character, to the bishop of Geneva. St. Francis de Sales, at the express desire ofthe Duke of Savoy, had a long interview with Theodore Beza. They parted with mutual esteem ; but neither convinced the other, St. Francis had formed a peculiar friendship with the Baroness de Chantal, a lady pf deep piety, who had placed herself under his direction. In 1610, he instituted a new religious society, en titled The Order of the Visitation, He placed his friend Madame de Chantal at the head of it, St. Francis was universally beloved and respected. Cardinal Perron was used to say of him, " My argu ments indeed convince heretics ; but his example alone converts them," This observation is similar to that which the Queen of Poland afterwards made on Bossuet and Fenelon, "Bossuet," said she, "cpnvinces us of the truth of Christianity ; but Ffenelon Jnafces us love it.'^ 320 The Princess Christina of France once presented the bishop with a very valuable diamond ring. She request ed him to wear it as a testimony of her esteem. Above all, she desired him never to part with it. " Not," said he, " unless the poor should want it." ' One day, his steward informed him thathe had just gained a very i mportant law-suit. It bad been instituted to' recover the revenues ^ the bishopric, which some pefrsons in the diocese had unjustly and fraudulently Seized upon. The steward told him, he was about to make them refund to the utmost farthing; the sum being very con siderable. Faithfulness, returned St. Francis, obliged ttie to begin a law-suit, which involved the rights of my successor : Christian love obliges me to remit the demand, for the pleasure of winning the hearts this contest may have estranged. He died 1633, after having led the life of an Irenseus, or a Polycarp. His works have been the favorite companions of Christians of all denominations. The most celebrated are, Traite de I' Amour de Dieu, 3 vols, in I2mo. well abridged in one, by Tricalet. Lettres Spirituelles, 3 vols, folio. Solide et Vraie Piete, 1 vol. I2mo. His life is written by several authors. That by the Abbe Morsollier (3 vols, in 13mo.), is most esteemed. It is Well worth tbe perusal. The abridgment of his Esprit (one thick vol, in 13mo,) is also much valued. It is a scarce work, and is more esteemed than the original, lyhich was written by his friend Camus, Bi.shop of 321 Bellay, This work in 6 vols. Svo, is wearisome, from its tedious and minute details. The life of Madame de Chantal is also very interesting. It is an almost indis pensable accompaniment to that of St. Francis. It is likewise written by the Abbe Marsollier, in 3 vols, 12mo, Several other accounts^of Madame de Chantal are indeed published, but this B^the best. GRANDE CHARTREUSE, The Grande Chartreuse was burnt down a very few years after the date of Lancelot's visit there. It was however soon rebuilt. The popular legend of Raymond Diocres seems to require some animadversion. First published by Gerson, it was in tbe middle ages currently received as a fact. It has been since immortalized by the pencil of Le Sueur, in his set of paintings for the Chartreuse. It was necessary to mention tbe Story therefore ; although now generally abandoned as a legend. May it not, however, be, that modern incredulity is as much mis taken in wholly rejecting, as ancient superstition was in unreservedly admitting this story. It is well known that complaints, producing sudden seizures, were not so well understood then, as they have been since. The ¦ symptoms too of death were not so infallibly ascertained. It is also known that the customs, both of almost ' im mediate interment, and of exposing the body in open VOL, II, y 322 cofiins, or biers, were formerly very prevalent. These circumstances being combined, may it not be possible,. that Raymond was really seized with some sort of fit, and that he might have been supposed dead ? Might not the strong stimuli of lights and powerful music, have roused him from bis lethargy ? If so, it does not appear impossible that an evil conscience, and the horror of his situation might have extorted some exclamation, which the tradition of a few centuries has since manu factured into the legend related by Gerson. This, how ever, is offered as a mere conjecture. Possibly the whole incident may be altogether fabulous. It appears truly wonderful that so absurd a legend' should have been received, with an unqualified assent, near our own times. Peter Poiret does not scruple, in his life of Antoinetta Bourignon, to blame the Port Royal writers for having called in question its authen ticity. BISHOP OF ALET. Nicholas Pavillom, Bishop of Alet (otherwise Alais or Aleth) died in disgrace in 1677, The court never forgave him for refusing his assent to the persecutions' ofthe Jansenists, There are memoirs pf his life in S^lsi in ISmo, They are well calculated for edification. The Bishop of Aleth was uncle to Ettienne Pavilion, the poet. 323 BELLARMIN, IloBERT Bellarmin was born at Monte Pulciarioi in I545. He was nephew to Pope Marcellus the Second, He entered tlie society of J'esuits at eigtiteen. He did honour to their company by his deep piety, his ex tensive learning, and bis brilliant talents. His abilities began to be developed at a very early age. So highly was he esteemed, that he was commissioned to preach, even before he entered into holy orders. In this respect he resembled Bossuet and Fenelon. They each de livered sermons in public before they attained the age of fifteen. Bossuet's discourse being pronounced at eleven o'clock at night, it was observed, that no sermon had ever before been preacbed, either so early or so late. ^ , ', , , Bellarmin entered the priesthood in 1569. He was consecrated by Cornelius Jansenius, Bishop of Ghent, This Jansenius is not to be confounded with the Bishop of Ypres, Bellarmin was then professor of theology, at iLouvain. His preaching was highly celebrated, Not only catholics but protestants, continually thronged his church. They everi came from England and Holland on purpose to hear him. After seven years' residence in the low countries, Bellarmin returned tp Italy, He was appointed pro fessor of polemics by Gregory the 13th, in the new college which he had just instituted. Sixius the 5th, y2 324 afterwards raised him to the office of theologian to the French legate. Nine years afterwards, Clement the 8th, created him Cardinal. He received the purple in 1599. The Pope gave the following reason for bestow ing the Cardinal's hat on Bellarmin ; " That he wished to have one man near his person, who at all times spoke the truth." He was afterwards made Archbishop of Capua, in 1601. Bellarmin was equally conspicuous for piety and polemic ability. He every year disposed of a third of his income in acts of charity. He visited the sick in hospi tals, and the prisoners in the most loathsome gaols. The expedients to which he had recourse, do equal honour to his charity and humility. When he saw persons in straitened circumstances, who might be wounded at receiving alms, he fVequenlly retained them at a large salary, to distribute his charities to the poor. It appeared at his death that a very considerable num ber of persons of this descriptipn were employed by the Cardinal. They were each under the strictest injunctions, neither by mentioning his name, or otherwise, to afibrd the least clue by which be might be suspected as the author of the immense charities they were employed to ad minister. Cardinal Bellarmin's benevolence appeared at all times the spontaneous result of a truly Christian heart. He once gave his ring in pledge to relieve a distressed 325 -object. He happened to have no money about him at the mpmeut. Bellarmin died, exhibiting the most pro found humility, arid the most fervent faith. The controversial works of Cardinal Bellarmin. may "be considered as the arsenal from which the Romish church has derived her strongest weapons against pro testantism. Nevertheless, the works of this great' man are not, in all respects, to be adopted as a true criterion of the Taith of that church which he so ably defended. His views of the supremacy of the Pope are widely different from the opinions established in the Romish church. He is accused by Catholic writers of insisting on the authority of the Pope, even in opposition to that of general councils. They have also accused him of extending the jurisdiction of the Papal see, from spirituals to temporals. He has been much blamed by Catholic authors for entertaining and expressing senti ments, on this head, in direct opposition to those ex? ¦plicitly maintained by all the Catholic universities. Those indeed must be excepted which are under the immediate infiuence ofthe ultramontane opinions. Bellarmin died in 1631. His works are numerous and highly valued. His life was published 1635, in octavo, by Fuligati. A French and Latin translation of thi» work appeared in 1636. Protestants have been accused of spreading very false accounts respecting the latter end of this great and good man ; such, notwithstanding his mistakes in judg ement, be certainly was. 3^6 M. DE RANGE. When M, de Ranee began bis reform, many little indications of his early character were mentioned. It was remembered that, when a child, he spoke with en thusiasm of the hermits of Egypt, Whilst at Rome too, it was bis favorite recreation to wander alone, for hours, amidst the obscure and dreary recesses of the catacombs. The life ofthe Abbe de la Trappe is well worth read ing, from its curiosity. Three accounts of him are published. One by Villefore, another by Meaupeaux, a third by Marsollier. ' The two last are the most esteemed. Meaupeaux's is thought the most eloquent ; MarsoUier's is esteemed the most correct. Meaupeaux is the panegyrist of his beloved and intimate friend ; Marsollier the faithful historian of a character, whom he represents as most eminent for piety, but yet not devoid of some harmless frailties, and many eccentrici ties 'more singular than needful. The French say that Marsollier narrates the life, ^nd Meaupeaux pronounces tbe funeral panegyric of M. de Ranee, A fourth, written by Le Nain, is however, the best. Dom Armand de Rance is the author of several valuable works. His chief publications are, Lettres Spirituelles, 2 vols. I2mo. Saintete des Etudes, et des devoirs Monastiques, also 2 vols. 12mo. Instructions 327 Chretiennes, also in the same number of vols. Regie- ments de I'ii^bbaye, notre dame de la Trappe, et les In structions donnes d Clairets, 1 vol, 12mo. Institutions de la Trappe. Vies de plusieurs Solitaires de la Trappe. There is much in these works highly edifying. They are all curious, inasmuch as they unfold the workings of a mind so singular. The Abbe de la Trappe was not free from trials in his own convent. He was, like St. Paul, often tried by false brethren, crept in unawares. His conduct on these occasion^ with the account of his death, is truly interesting to every Christian reader. He completed the century; and expired, relying on the alone merits. of his Saviour, in the year 1700. The Abbe de Ranee's favorite books were. The Imi tation of Christ, commonly ascribed to Thoirias d Kempis. The Lives of the Fathers of the Desert, and vCardinal Bellarmin's Art of Dying Well. Addenda on the Interior of La Trappe, In 1765, the number of religious at La Trappe amounted to 69 monks, 56 lay brothers, and 9 fr^res- dpnnes. Silence is so strictly observed, that it is said, some of its inhabitants have died, rather than break it by asking for necessary assistance. The author of the precis adds, that this practice is grounded on the words '" Sedebit folitarius et taeebit." The cells are furnished with a small table, a straw 328 chair, a wooden box without any lock, and two tressels, on which, at night, they lay the plank which supports their mattress. Invalids are not allowed to keep their beds, Inthe ' most severe illnesses, they rise at three in the morning. Nor is it allowed ever to lean against their chairs in the course of the day to rest, M. de Nonancourt mentions a singular anecdote con* cerning La Trappe. Two brothers had lived together in the monastery for twelve years, without knowing each other. The eldest being at the point of death, told the Rev. Father Abb6, that he had but one subject of uneasiness ; which was, that he had left an only brother immersed in the dissipa tion ofthe world. The Abbe immediately sent for him, and they embraced each other with the greatest affec tion just before he expired. The cemetery of La Trappe is quite unadorned. In the centre is a small chapel, containing the monument of M. de Rance. His figure is carved at full length in a recumbent posture. The graves of tbe brethren are without, in the burying ground. They are marked by simple wooden crosses, inscribed with the names and ages of the persons. When Count Rosemberg became a monk at La Trappe, he refused to see his own mother. The Che- ^ valier Albergotti manifested the same inflexibility to wards an intimate friend. This gentleman's affection was so strong, that he at length resolved to become him self a monk, in the same convent with his friend. Not- 329 withstanding this prodigy of friendship, Albergotti never once lifted up his eyes upon him. The death of Louis the Fourteenth was not known at La Trappe, for a very considerable space of time after it took place. It has been said, that it was not known for years, but by the Rev. Father Abbe. It is said, on good authority, that a nobleman, having taken a journey of five hundred leagues, purposely to see La Trappe, could, in tbe neighbouring village, scarcely find one person who knew where it was situated. This anecdote, as well as the difficulty of finding the path to La Trappe (a circumstance mentioned in every account of this monastery) appears very difficult to re concile with other facts, also related in tbe same works. It is repeatedly said, that, on an average, this seclu sion is visited by six thousand strangers every year; and that from twelve to fifteen hundred poor are fed there, and otherwise relieved twice every week. It seems difficult to conceive how a road can be untracked, which is passed a hundred and sixty thousand times every year. The chant in use at La Trappe. is the Gregorian, or plain chant. James the Second's Visit to La Trappe. Amongst the most frequent visitors' of La' Trappe, was the unfortunate James the Second. An account of his first visit may, perhaps, prove not unacceptable to the EngUsh reader. It is supplied in this note, instea^ 330 of being inserted in the text, because it took place some years subsequent to M, Lancelot's tour, James the Second had heard of La Trappe in the days of his prosperity. After his misfortunes, he re solved to visit a seclusion he had so long felt a curiosity to see. This desigti was not executed till after his re turn from his unsuccessful expedition to Ireland. He arrived at La Trappe in the evening of the 20th of November, 1690. As soon as M. de Rance heard he was come, he went forth to meet him at the door of the monastery. The king was on horseback. As soon as he alighted, the Abbe prostrated himself before him. This is the custom with respect to all strangers. Ne vertheless, it was, in this instance, performed in a man ner expressive of peculiar respect. The king felt pain at seeing the Abbe in this humi liating posture before him* He raised him up, and then entreated bis benediction. This the Abbe gave, accompanying it with a speech of some length. He assured his majesty he thought it a great honor to see a monarch who was suffering for the sake of Christ ; who had renounced three kingdoms from conscientious mo tives. He added, that the prayers of the whole con»- munity bad been constantly ofiered up in his behalf. They had continually implored heaven to afford him renewed strength, that he might press on in the power of God, till he should receive an eternal and immortal crown. The king was then conducted to chapel. They af terwards conversed together for an hour. Jsimes joined 331 in the evening service, by which he app.e^r^d muct^ edified and consoled. The king's supper was served by the monks, ^pd consisted of roots, eggs, and vegetable?. He seeme^ much pleased with all he saw. After supper, he went and looked at a collection of maxim? of Christian con duct, which were framed and hung up against the wall; he perused them several times, and, expressing how much be admired them, requested a copy. Next day the king attended the chapel. He com municated with the monks ; this he did with great der votion. He afterwards vyent to see the community occupied at their labor for an hour and an half. Their occupations chiefly consist of ploughing, turnr ing, basket-making, b|"ewing, carpentry, \yasbing, tcanscribing manuscripts, and bookbinding. The king was much struck with their silence apd re collection. He, howeyer, asked the Abbe, if )3e 414 not think they labore4 too hard. M. de Ra^ce replied, " Sire, that which would be hard to thqse who sep|c pleasure, is easy to those who practise periitence." In the afternoon the king walked for some ]:ime on a fine terrace, formed between the lakes surrqufl4iii? the monastery. The yie\v from this plape is peculiarly His Britannic majesty then w^n^ to yi^jj; §n ^er|j[)it, who lived by himself in a small hut, which he had con- stpcted in the woods surrounding La "Ti^E^ppe. In this retreat he spent his time in prayer and in praise, re-; mote from all intercourse with ^ny one, excepting 332 the Abbe de la Trappe. This gentleman was a person of rank ; he had formerly been distinguished as one of tbe bravest oificers in King James's army. On enter ing bis cell, the monarch appeared much struck and affected with the entire change in his demeanour and expression of countenance. In a short time he recovered himself. After a great variety of questions on the part of the king, he at length asked him, " at what hour in the morning he attended the service of the convent in winter ?" He answered. " at about half -past three." " But," returned Lord Dumbarton, who was in the king's suite, " surely that is impossible. How can you traverse this intricate forest in the dark ; especially at a season of the year, when, even in the day time, the road must be undiscernible, from the frost and snow ?'¦* " My Lord," replied tbe hermit, " I should blush to esteem these trifles as any inconveniences, in serving a heavenly monarch ; when I have so often braved dangers, so far more eminent, for the chance of serving an earthly prince." " You are right," returned the king. " How won derful that so much should be sacrificed to temporal potentates ; whilst so little should be secured by serving him, tbe only King, immortal and invisible, to whom alone true honor and power belong. That God who has done so much for us 1" " Surely, however," continued Lord Dumbarton to tbe hermit, " you must be thoroughly tired with passing all your time alone in this gloomy forest." 333 " No/' interposed the king ; himself replying to the question, " he has indeed chosen a path widely diffe rent to that of the world. Death, which discovers all things, will shew that he has chosei the right one." The king paused for a reply. None being made, he continued. " There is a difference," said he (turning to the hermit), " between you and the rest of mankind. You will die the death of the righteous, and you will rise at the resurrection of the just. But they" .... Here he paused ; his eyes seemed full of tears, and his mind absent, as if intent on painful recollections. After a few moments, he hastily arose, and taking a polite and kind leave of the gentleman, returned with his retinue to the monastery. During his whole stay, the king assisted at all the offices. In all of them he manifested a deep and fer vent devotion. His misfortunes seemed tp have been the means of awak^iing his heart to worship God in spirit and in truth. Next day the king prepared to depart at an early hour. On taking leave, he threw himself at M. de Ranee's feet ; and with tears requested his parting benediction. The Abbe bestowed it in a most solemn and affect ing manner. The king, on rising, recognized the monk on whose arm he leant to get up. He was a nobleman who had long served in his army (the Hon. Robert Graham). " Sir," said the king, addressing himself to him, " I liave never ceased to regret the generosity with which 334 you made a sacrifice of a splendid fortune in behalf of your king. 1 can, however, now grieve at it no longer; since I perceive that your misfortunes in the service of an earthly monarch, have proved the blessed means of your having devoted your heart to a heavenly one." The king then mounted his horse and departed. James tbe Second, from that period, repeated his visits to La Trappe, annually. On these occasions he always bore his part in the ex ercises ofthe community. He often assisted at the con- ferfehces of the monks, and spoke with much unction. It is said that the king's character appeared to undergo a strikingly perceptible, though a progressive, change. He every year appeared to grow in piety and in grace ; and he evidently increased in patience and sub mission to the divine will. In 1696, the queen accompanied the king to La Trappe. She' was accommodated for three diays with all her retinue in a house adjoining the monastery, built; fof the reception of the commendatory abbots. She was much pleased with her visit, and expressed herself to be not less edified than the king. Both of them entertained sentiments of the highest vetiefation for M. de Rance. ITieir acquaintance, thus begun, was soon matured into a solid friendship. They commenced a correspondence which' was regu larly maintained on both sides till m! de Ranee's death'. Thet-e is reason to believe that a very considerable changfeTt^afe wrought in the king's niind, in consequence tifhls intimafcyvitb' the Abbe de la Trappe. 'W^etlieir 335 ihis change atriounted to that total renewal of heavt spoken of by the apostle, there are, perhaps, not data sufficiently clear to ascertain. The following are the terms in which the king ex pressed himself respecting M. de Ratice. " I really think nothing has afforded me so much consolation since my misfortunes, as the conversation of that venerable saint, the Abbe of la Trappe. When I first arrived in France, I had but a very superficial view of religion ; if, indeed, I might be said tP have any thing deserving that name. The Abbe de la Trappe was the first person who gave me any solid in struction with respect tp genuine Christianity. " I formerly looked upon God as an omnipotent creator, and as an arbitrary governor. I knew his power to be irresistible. I therefore thought bis decrees" must be submitted to, because they could not be withstood. Now, my whole view is changed. The Abbe de la Trappe has taught me lo consider this great God as my father ; and to view myself as adbpted into his family. I now can look upon myself as become his son,J;hrough the merits of my Saviour, applied to my heart by bis Holy Spirit. I am now convinced, nPt only that we ought to receive misfortunes with patience, because they are inevitable ; but I also feel assured, that death, which rends the veil from all things, will probably discovef to us as many new secrets of love andmerc^' in the ecoriP- iriy of God's providence, as in that of his gface, God, who gave up bis oiily Son to an accursed dtath for us. 336 must surely have ordered all inferior things by the same spirit of love," Such were King James's sentiments respecting M, de Rance, The Abbe, on the other hand, entertained as high an opinion of him. The following passage con cerning the unfortunate King of England, occurs in one of M. de la Trappe's letters to a friend. " I will now speak to you concerning the King of England. I never saw any thing more striking than the whole of his conduct. Nor have I ever seen any person more elevated above the transitory objects of time and sense. His tranquillity and submission to the divine will are truly marvellous. He really equals some of the most boly men of old, if, indeed, he may not be rather said to surpass them. " He has suSered the loss of three kingdoms ; yet his equanimity and peace of mind are undisturbed. He speaks of his bitterest enemies without warmth. Nor does he ever indulge in those insinuations, which even good men are too apt to fall into, when speaking of their enemies. He knows the meaning of two texts of Scripture, which are too much neglected ' It is given you to suffer,' and • Despise not the gift of God.' He, therefore, praises God for every persecution and humiT^ liation which he endures. He could not be in a more equable state of mind, even if he were in the meridian of temporal prosperity, " His time is always judiciously and regularly appro priated. His day is filled up in so exact a manner. 337 that nothing can be well either added or retrenched from his occupations. " All bis pursuits tend to the love of God and man. He appears uniformly to feel the divine presence. This is perhaps the first and most important step in the di vine life, It is tbe foundation of all which follow. " The Queen is in every respect influenced by the same holy desires. " The union of these two excellent persons is founded on the love of God. " It may be truly termed an boly and a sacred one," Such were M, de Ranee's opinions of King James, It is impossible to doubt, but that the venerable Abbe de la Trappe was sincere in his expressions. To tbe English reader they will, perhaps, cause surprise. Whatever sacrifices may have been made to any system of faith, it will appear diflicult to join the Abbe de la Trappe, in ascribing them to the genuine influence of religion, whilst the person said to have made tbem, authorized the decisions of a Jefferies, or the executions of a Kirk. Nor will it probably be thought that James's conduct respecting tbe Duke of Monmputb, can evei be recon ciled with a profession of that religion, whose com raand it is, not to hide ourselves from our own flesh. The Christian reader will, however, not, perhaps, draw so decisive a conclusion. Having himself experi enced his blessed influence, be knows that the Divine Spirit can wholly and radically change the heart. It can take away tbe heart of stone, and bestow the heart VOL. II, z 338 of flesh. Old things may be wholly done away, and all Ihings may become new. He knows too, that tem poral misfortunes are often tbe method by which God, in mercy, inclines the human heart to listen to the voice of his Spirit. Nevertheless, where such a change really has taken place, it will be evidenced by corres ponding fruits. A real dedication of heart to God must be evidenced by a devotion, not of forms and phraseo logy, but of heart and of life. Many degrees of alteration may take place in the human heart ; which yet may fall far short of a sa'ving change.^, ' ' Perhaps none is more common, because none is more cheap, than substituting a respect for religion and religious persons, in the place of an assiduous mortification of our own corruptions, a denying of ourselves, taking up the cross, and zealoiisly following Christ. It may be probable, as it is pleasing to have any reasons for entertaining the hope, that this great change actually did take place in the instance of the unfortunate James. A considerate Christian would, however, join in M. de Ranee's eulogium with more full assurance, had there been some more solid proofs of his conversion, than a friendship for the monks of La Trappe. FINIS. J. M'Creery, Printer, Black-Horte-Court, I.ondou. YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 9002 08837 7230 iffiiti;