'Jf give ihefe Books
for the faiaidittg if a. College in thi<: Colony'

U)

Gift of
Charles William Bardeen
Yale 1869
1922

SELECT MEMOIRS

PORT ROYAL

SELECT MEMOIRS

PORT ROYAL,

TO WHICH ARE APPENDBD

TOUR TO ALET; VISIT TO PORT ROYAL; GIFT OF AN
ABBESS ; BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES, &c.

Safetn bom ®rijinal jSotumtnta

BT
M. A. SCHIMMELPENNINCK.

FIFTH EDITION.
VOL. L

PHILADELPHIA:
HENRY LONGSTRETH, 347 MARKET STREET.
18 53.

stereotyped by Slote & Mooney, Philadelphia.
Wm. S. Youxg, Printer.

PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION.

In presenting the fourth edition of the " Select
Memoirs of Port Royal to the public, the author
wishes to express, that she shall indeed rejoice if
this little work may be the means of diffusing
amongst her Protestant brethren, an acquaintance
not only with the truly dedicated individuals,
whose biography forms the subject of its pages,
but of impressing them with a deep conviction
of the futility of merely notional Christianity ; and
of the importance of not only assenting to divine
truth, but of having it implanted by the Spirit in
the heart and soul ; so that — a circulation of the
living sap of Christ, the only true vine — it may
bear its fruit abundantly unto life eternal. " Every
plant which my heavenly Father hath not planted
shall he rooted up." 0 that not only the seed sown,
may be -the genuine word of God, but that it
may be sown by the hand of the divine Husband
man himself, aiid watered by the dew from heaven.
If, in the perusal of the memoirs of Port Royal,
(V)

vi PKEFACE.
Protestant readers may think they often have
occasion to thank our Lord for superior light,
have we not also continually cause to prostrate
ourselves at his feet in deep compunction and
shame, at our very far inferior diligence and fidel
ity ? At our very far inferior degree of spirituality,
and of abiding communion with Christ ? and our
very far less single eye and close walk with him?
0 that neither the author, or readers of this work,
might ever rest content with merely visiting their
Lord, as occasional and transient guests; but that
we might, like David, desire to dwell in the hxmse
of the Lord forever ; and to abide continually under
the shadow of the Almighty.
The author would rejoice too, if this little work
might also be the means of promoting a gospel
charity for the very numerous members dispersed
in the Roman Catholic church, and other churches,
who truly love and hope in the cross of Christ,
and are led by the spirit of Christ. She also
wishes that it might be a means of stirring up a
lively and affectionate zeal in their behalf, to spread
the holy Scriptures, and to diffuse that more full
and distinct apprehension, and more fervent love
of gospel truth amongst them, which may effectually
emancipate them from those human bonds, and
those traditions of men, which though they did not
enthral, yet, in a considerable degree, encumbered

PREFACE. vii
and perplexed the course of even the excellent
Port Royalists.
0 that the spirit of our Lord, the real love of
souls, reigned of a truth amongst his professed
followers. That mind of Christ, equally remote
from the narrowness which rejects all who fall
beneath a certain standard, as from the culpable
indifference for our brethren's welfare, which lies at
the root of indiscriminate and miscalled hberality.
0 had we that mind of Christ, that Christian
love, which helieveih all things, which hopeth all
things, and which endureth all things, and which
rejoiceth in the trv^; how should we with open
arms, receive all those who love our Lord Jesus
Christ in sincerity and truth ; even amidst the
multitude of ignorances, misapprehensions, errors,
and even as yet uncorrected sins remaining;
where the true leaven has been received, but be
fore it has diffused itself so widely as to leaven
the whole lump ! But we should receive and re
tain them, not to make a compromise of the truth,
or to wink at their errors, or to let them remain
in ignorance; but to cherish, to instruct, to cor
rect, to amend; like the good shepherd, who
not only seeks his sheep in the dark mountains,
but who heals the diseases, binds up what is broken,
and carries the tender lambs, who cannot yet walk,
in his bosom.

VIU PREFACE.
Never let us forget, that long after they were
enrolled amongst the disciples of Christ, Peter de
nied him ; and John and James would have called
down fire from heaven, to bum up a village of the
Samaritans; and the same disciples, even in the
immediate view of their Master's sufferings, disputed
amongst themselves for precedency.
Yet little as they knew the spirit they were of,
did our Lord therefore reject them ? No, he bore
with them. He gave a kind assurance of his re
gard, immediately on his resurrection, to the one ;
and commended his mother, whilst on the cross, to
the other. He taught them more perfectly; and
the one who denied him, boldly followed his
divine Master in the painful death of the cross.
St. John, who had desired to destroy the Samari
tans, was favored to be the Apostle especially
setting forth divine love ; and St. James, who so
earnestly contended for pre-eminence, became the
especial contemner of worldly distinctions and honors.
May the author be permitted to add one conclud
ing observation ?
In the following pages, two religious societies are
presented to the notice of the reader.
The one is that of the pious monks of La Trappe ;
the other that of the Port Royalists.
Both of these societies we have reason to believe,
were equally devoted. Both loved the Lord who

PREFACE. IX
bought them ; and each was faithful, so far as it
may be said of human beings, to the light they
had. So far they agreed; but in one respect they
materially differed. The rule of the Trappists led
them to be intent on a multitude of observances,
which, however instituted by great men, are after
all but the tradition of men ; whereas that of the
Port Royalists required of its members a diligent,
a continual, and a prayerful study of that written
Avord of truth, which God has set forth as the
outward testimony of Jesus, as the delineation of
his life on earth, as a lamp to the feet, and a light
to the path of his disciples, as the xevealer of the
everlasting covenant of peace ; as the witness, the
accomplishment. of redenaption, and as the char
ter of the Church's privileges, and of her ever
lasting inheritance. And thus, the P^rt 'Royalists
diligently and prayerfully looked to the Spirit of
God, not as the substitute for, but the divine in
terpretation and personal application of, the writ
ten word.
Hence we shall find a corresponding difference in
the results. The Port Royalists were not only
burning, but shining lights. They had not only
divine vitality, but were instruments of diffusing
light extensively to others. They were far better
instructed, far more useful in their generation, and
Vol. L 2

X PREFACE.
far greater blessings in their own church than any
society can be who rejects the diligent use of the
means God has appointed for knowing his will, and
learning the privileges he has bestowed.
Those, indeed, who have not the spirit of Christ
are none of his, for Christ in his people is alone
the hope of glory ; yet the great contrast between
the devoted Trappists, and equally devoted, but
Jar better instructed, Port Royalists might per
haps serve as a striking comment on the declara
tion that he whose delight is in the law of the
Lord, and who meditates in his law day and night,
can alone be expected to be as the tree planted by
the rivers of water, and bringing forth his fruit in
his season. M. A. SCHIMMELPENNINCK.
September, 1834.

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.

The Select Memoirs of Port Royal, are intended to
present to the public a succinct sketch of the rise,
progress, and extinction of that celebrated religious
and literary institution. The work is a re-arranged,
and very greatly extended edition of one published
some years ago, under the title of "A Tour to
Alet." With the exception of a few notes, it in
cludes the whole, both of that work, and of the
" Nari-ative of the Demolition of Port Royal," with
various additions in the account of that institution,
occupying considerably more than a third of the
present work. These additions rendered the for
mer name inappropriate. The appellation of " Se
lect Memoirs" was adopted, because these volumes
have no pretensions to be a continued literary or
ecclesiastical history of Port Royal, but rather pre
sent a brief sketch, necessary to connect various
anecdotes, biographic sketches, sentiments, or let
ters, which the author conceived might prove inter
esting or edifying to readers of religious tastes and
habits. The two former editions having been for
some years oiit of print, and the author having been
repeatedly solicited to give another, wished to make
it more worthy of perusal, by considerable biogra
phical and other additions. They were not only
(xi)

xii PREFACE.
begun, but were nearly brought to a close some
years ago ; when a long continued state of ill health,
and the pressure of afflicting circumstances, pre
cluded the final completion and arrangement, till
the present time.
The edition commences by two introductory
biographical sketches ; viz., that of the life of the
celebrated Jean du Verger de Hauranne, Abbe de
St. Cyran ; and of his friend Jansenius, Bishop of
Ypres ; the latter of whom was the reviver in the
Catholic church, of those doctrines of grace which
are so similar to those now often termed evangeli
cal, amongst Protestants. The former was the di
rector, under whose guidance they were introduced
at Port Royal.
These two notices, so closely interwoven with the
history of that monastery, are succeeded by an in
troduction, chiefly written by.N. Fontaine, after the
final dispersion of the recluses, most of whom he
survived : occasional additions have been made,
principally from the Abbe Gazagnes, and the author
of the " Gemissemens," who wrote after the final
destruction of the monastery.
Then come the Select Memoirs. They are com
piled from the numerous general histories of Port
Royal; combined with its still more multiplied
private memoirs, letters, necrologies, relations of
persecutions, constitutions, manuals, and treatises
of piety.
The Select Memoirs are succeeded by a little
account of an excursion which the author took to
Port Royal des Champs, in the course of a tour to

PBCFACE. 3flU
Amsterdam, Utrecht, Amersfort, Brussels, Louvain,
and Paris, immediately after the peace of 1814,
when she had an opportunity, under the kind di
rection of a venerable and celebrated bishop, and
of several clergy of Jansenist principles, of making
a very extensive collection of their works. From
this collection th^ present publication is compiled ;
all the foregoing pieces were composed with a view
to publication.
In conclusion follow the " Tour to Alet," and as
a companion to it, a specimen of a book of la Mere
Agn^s Arnauld, entitled "la Religieuse Parfaite."
Neither of these two last pieces were written for
the press ; and neither of them are to be considered
as translations of the works on which they purport
to be founded.
The "Tour to Alet," consist^. of those parts of
Dom Lancelot's Tour, which were translated for
the author's amusement, expanded, by information
obtained from other; authentic sources on the same
subjects, and interwoven with the tour, instead
of being appended in notes. It was retained, be
cause this edition purports to, include a reprint
of the last; and because, though not a literal trans
lation of Lancelot; it contains much curious infor
mation, from other equally valuable sources ; be
sides which, the subject and the writer closely
connected it with Port RoyaL
The specimen of the " Religieuse Parfaite," was
written for the author's private edification ; much
in the same way as the '* Tour to Alet" was
for her private amusement. It is a translation

XIV PREFACE.
of part of the "Religieuse Parfaite," in which
passages which appeared irrelevant to Protestant
readers are omitted; and others are occasionally
expanded, often indeed, by other parts of la Mfere
Agnes's works.
These two last pieces, however, though not trans
lations, are so completely borrowed from the Port
Royal writers, that it was thought they might
prove interesting ; one as a specimen of the writings
of the male, the other of the female members of
that institution; and above all that they might
prove acceptable from their own merit. Both were
written by their venerable authors nearly about the
same period.
The whole work closes with biographical notices
and elucidations from various sources. The ac
count of James the Second's visit to la Trappe,
irom the life of the Abb^ de Ranee, by MarsolUer,
would have been inserted in the body of Dom
Lancelot's tour; but that it took place at a very
considerably later period than that at which he
wrote. Having stated the sources from which the Se
lect Memoirs of Port Royal are compiled, the
author wishes to add, that being amply furnished
with the means, pains have not been spared to
render them correct and authentic ; and she must
state that those persons have been much mistaken,
who imagine it to be a work of fiction, founded
only upon fact ; and she invites persons having
supposed so, to read the Port Royal general histo
ries and memoirs, to be convinced of their mistake.

PREFACE. XV
One other observation must be made. In the
course of this work, four or five circumstances are
related, one of which will be universally considered
as ahsdluteHy incredible ; and the others as marvel
lous. This the author is aware of, but, as in every
instance, the history hinged upon them, she did not
think herself at liberty to depart from her au
thorities. '
In doing full justice to the virtues of these excel
lent persons, the author felt herself bound not to
turn out of her way to conceal the popular opinions
of the period, and of the Church to which Port
Royal belonged. It should be recollected that mi
raculous interpositions were then more unhesi
tatingly admitted than they would be at present,
and amongst Protestants.
In the nineteenth century, the relation of Madame
de Mongobert, and of that unknown visitor of Ma
dame de Valois, would seem capable of a perfectly
obvious solution.
The account of the miracle of the sacred thorn
is given as a curiosity ; its share in the history of
Port Royal, and in that of Pascal, is too prominent
to aUow it to be suppressed. The materials are too
intractable to be moulded into anything approach
ing to human probability ; it is therefore given, just
as the author found it.
Finally, the great extension of materials in this
edition, and a wish not to increase beyond measure
the size of the work, has obliged the author, both
to print more lines in each page, and to cancel the
references at the foot of the page, to give room for

xvi PREFACE.
the additional text. A list of the works referred to,
with the. titles annexed in full, is therefore sub
joined. To the reader who wishes to refer to them,
the author will observe, that the general histories
(distinguished by an asterisk) form the foundation
of each chapter, and are to be in the first place con
sulted ; first, as to the history of the period of time
spoken of; and secondly, by turning to the index,
under the head of each character or place, men
tioned in the chapter. Then the Memoirs, &c., &c.,
furnish the details on particular parts. Thus the
Memoirs of du Fosse, Fontaine, and Lancelot, chiefly
regard the recluses ; the Memoirs of la Mere An-
gelique, and the M. des Anges, Vies Edifmntes,
chiefly regard the nuns. The Necrologies, &c., give
accounts of each individual ; and the Relations of
Po7i Boyal chiefly relate to their early, as the His-
toire de la Derniere Persecution does to the latter
persecution. With.this clew it will not be difficult
to refer to any particular passage.
The, author wishes cordially and respectfully to
thank her subscribers, and hopes they may derive
as much pleasure from the perusal of her work, as
she has had in writing it.

LIST OF AUTHORITIES.

'I' Histoire Generale de Port Royal, par Dom Clemencet. 10
vols. 8vo.
* Histoire de I'Abbaye de Port Royal, par Besogne. 6 vols. 8vo.
* Memoires Historiques et Chronologiques sor I'Abbaye de Port
Royal des Champs, par Gilbert. 10 vols. Svo.
* Nouvelle Histoire abregee de I'Abbaye de Port Royal, par Pou-
lain, accompagnee de Vies Choisies de Religieuses, et de
quelques Dames bienfaitrices et des Messieurs attaches k ce
celebre monastere. 4 vols. 8vo.
Abregee de I'Histoire de Port Royal, par Racine. 8vo.
* Abregee de I'Histoire ecclesiastique, par Racine. 13 vols. 8vo.
Histoire Ecclesiastique, par M. I'Abbe Fleury. 20 vols. 8vo.
Memoires pour servir a I'Histoire de Port Royal, et k la Vie
de la reverende Mere Marie Angelique de Sainte Magdeleine
Arnauld. 3 vols. 8vo.
* Histoire abregee de la derniere Persecution de Port Royal,
suivie de la Vie edifiante des domestiques de cette sainte
maison. 3 vols. 8vo.
Memoires pour servir a I'Histoire de Port Royal, par Nicholas
Fontaine. 4 vols. 8vo.
Necrologe de I'Abbaye de Notre Dame de Port Royal des
Champs.
Supplement au Necrologe. 4to.
Petit Necrologe. 7 vols. 8vo.
Vol. L 3 C^'U

xviii LIST OF AUTHORITIES.
Relation de la Captivite de la Mere Angelique de St. Jean,
religieuse de Port Royal. 8vo.
Histoire generale du Jansenisme, par Gerberon. 3 vols. 8vo.
Relations sur la Vie de la Reverende Mere Angelique de St.
Magdeleine Arnauld, par la Mere Angelique St. Jean Ar
nauld Andilly.
Vie de Messire Antoine Arnauld, Docteur de la Maison et
Soeiete de Sorbonne. 2 vols. 8vo.
Vie de St. Vincent de Paul, par Collet. 8vo.
Vie de St. Francois de Sales, par Marsollier. 2 vols. 8vo.
Memoires du Sieur de Pontis. 2 vols. 8vo.
3Iodele de Foi et de Patience dans toutes les Trarerses de la vie,
ou Vie de la Mere Marie des Anges Suireau, Abbesse de
Port Royal et de Maubuisson, par la Mere Anne Marie
Eustoquie de Flescelles Bregy. 2 vols. 8vo.
Memoires sur la Vie de Jean Racine. 8vo.
Vie de M. le Nain de Tillemont. 8vo.
Vie de la Bienheureuse Mere de Chantal, Fondatrice de la
Visitation, par Marsollier. 2 vols. 8vo.
Memoires de Messire Robert Arnauld d' Andilly, par lui-
meme. 8vo.
Relation de plusieurs Circonstances de la Vie de Monsieur Ha-
mon, par lui-meme. 8vo.
Vies interessantes et Edifiantes des Religieuses de Port Royal, et
de plusieurs personnes qui leur etoient attaches. 4 vols. 8vo.
Lettres edifiantes aux Religieuses de Port Royal. 4 vols. 8vo.
Vie de M. Nicole. Bvo.
Vie de M. Pavilion, eveque d'Alet. 3 vols. 8vo.
Memoires pour servir a I'Histoire de Port Royal, par M. du
Fosse. 2 vols. 8vo.
Memoires touchant la Vie de M. St. Cyran, par Dom Claude
Lancelot, pour servir d'edaircissement a I'Histoire de Port
Royal. 2 vols. 8vo.

LIST OF AUTHORITIES. XIX
Lettres d' Antoine Arnauld. 9 vols. 8vo.
Lettres Provinciales, et Notes de Guillaume Wendrocli. 4vols.8 vo.
Lettres de M. de St. Marthe. 4 vols. 8vo.
Bpitres de St. Frangois de Sales. 2 vols. 8vo.
Morale pratique des Jesuites. 9 vols. 8vo.
L'Image d'une Religeuse Parfaite et Imparfaite, par la rever
ende M^re Agnes de St. Paul Arnauld.
Gemissement d'une Ame vivement touchee de la destruction du
saint Monastere de Port Royal des Champs. 8vo.
Maximes chretiennes et morales, par M. de Ranee, Abbe de
la Trappe. 2 vols. 8vo.
Reglemens de I'Abbe de la Trappe. 8vo.
Vie de Dom Armand Jean le Bouthillier de Ranee, par Mar
sollier. 2 vols. 8vo.
Vie de I'Abbe de Ranee, par Dom Pierre le Nain.
Divers Actes, Lettres, et Relations, des Religieuses de Port
Royal, touchant la persecution. 4to.
Histoire des Ordres Monastiques Religieux et Militaires, j)ar Ic
Pere Helyot. 8 vols. 4to.
Discours de la Reverende Mere Marie Angelique de St. Jean,
Abbesse de Port Royal des Champs. 3 vols. 8vo.
Plainte du Pere Quesnel. 8vo.
Lettres Chretiennes de Varefc. 3 vols. 8vo.
Lettres Chretiennes et Spirituelles d'Isaac Louis le Maitre de
Saci. 2 vols. 8vo.
Lettres de la Reverende Mere Marie Angelique Arnauld, Ab
besse et Reformatrice de Port Royal. 3 vols. 8vo.
Letters Chretiennes et Spirituelles de Jean du Verger de Hau
ranne, Abbe de St. Cyran. 2 vols. 4to.
Histoire de Fenelon, par Bausset. 3 vols. 8vo.
Constitutions du Monastere de Port Royal. 12mo.
Nouveau Dictionnaire Historique, par de Chaudon et Delan-
dine. 20 vols. 8vo.

XX LIST OF AUTHORITIES.
Alban Butler's Lives of the Saints. 13 vols. 8vo.
(Euvres Spirituelles de Bernieres. 2 vols. 8vo.
Hamon de la Solitude Chretienne. 8vo.
La Piete envers Jesus Christ. 8vo.
Jesus Christ penitent. 8vo.
Pratique de la Priere continuelle. 8vo.
Pensees pieuses. 8vo.
Pseaumes de David, par Duguet. 8 vol. 8vo.
Clef des Pseaumes. 8vo.
Litelligences de Propheties. 8vo.
Ouvrage des six jours. 8vo.
Manuel du Peierinage de Port Royal. 8vo.
Grand Dictionnaire Historique de Morferi. 2 vols, folio.
Descriptions des Batiments de Port Royal. 8vo.
Proces Verbal du 27 Aoilit, 1664, contenant une relation de ce
qui s'est passe le 26, dans 1' enlevement violent et scandaleux
des religieuses de Port Royal. 8vo.
Relations de la soeur Angelique de St. Alexis d'Hecaucourt de
Charmont. 8 vo.
Vies des principales filles de la Mere Angelique. 8vo.
Abrege de la Mere Agnes.
Relations de Divers Ciconstances de la Vie de la Mere Agnes.
Relation de la Vie et des Vertus de Madame Arnauld.
Relation de Madame de Ligny.
Relation de la Vie de la Mere Angelique de St. Jean.
Relation du Retablissement de Port Royal des Champs en
1648, par la Mere de Ligny.
Genealogie des Amaulds.
Chronologic des principaux evenements de Port Royal.
Relation de I'etablissement de la Reforme, par la Mere An
gelique.
Vie de la Mere Angelique de St. Jean.
Relation de I'Etablissement du Saint Sacrament.

LIST OF AUTHORITIES. xxi
B^glemens des petites ecoles de Port Royal.
Reglemens des enfans.
Perrault's Hommes illustres. 2 vols, folio.
ViUefore, Vie d'Anne Genevieve de Bourbon, Duchesse de
Longueville. 2 vols. 8vo.
Histoire de Port Royal. 1 vol. 4to.
Relations des Voyages de la Mere Angelique.
Histoire du Chapelet secret du St. Sacrement.
Relation touchant Mme. Pontcarre.
Lettres edifiantes et curieuses. 26 vols. 8vo.
Vies de plusieurs saints illustres, par Arnauld d' Andilly. Folio.
Berington's Histories of the 11th and 12th centuries.
Discours sur la regie de St. Benoit, par la Mere Angelique de
St. Jean. 2 vols. 8vo.
Memoires d'Anne d'Autricbe.
Memoires de St. Simon. 13 vols. Svo.
Relation de la Vie et de la Mort de plusieurs Religieux de la
Trappe. 4 vols. Svo.
Description de I'Abbaye de la Trappe. Svo.
Nicole, Essais de Morale. 26 vols. Svo.
Charlevoix. Paraguay. 2 vols. Svo.
Bfeaumelle, Vie de Maintenon.
Memoires du Marquis de Pombal. 2 vols. Svo.
Lettres de Maintenon.
Voyage Pittoresque de la France.
Instructions chretiennes, par Singlin. 6 vols. Svo.
Relation de la soeur Dorothee Perdreau.
Relation de la soeur Euphemie Pascal.
Vie de Blaise Pascal, par Perrier.
Beceuil de relations et memoires sur la vie de la Mere Agv.es
de St. Paul Arnauld.
Relation de la vie de Madame Arnauld.
Beceuil de relations sur la vie de la soeur Anne Eugenie di
I'incarnation Arnauld.

XXll LIST OF AUTHORITIES.
Relation de la Mere de Ligni sur Maubuisson.
Receuil de Memoires sur la Mfere Angelique de St. Jean Ar
nauld.
Relation de ce qui s'est passe a Port Royal des Champs, depui.'?
1638 jusqu'k 1648, par la Mere Magdeleine de St. Agnes de
Ligny, abbesse de Port Royal.
Vie du Due et de la Duchesse de Liancourt.
Relation sur la prison de M. Sacy, par N. Fontaine.
Vie de la soeur Euphemie Pascal, par Madame Perrier sa soeur.
Relation par la soeur Flavie Passart.
Relation de la M^re de Ninvilliers derniere Abbesse de Port
Royal des Champs.
Vie de la Mere Agnfes de St. Thede Racine, Abbesse de Port
Royal.
Vie de la Mere Magdeleine St. Marie du Fargis, Abbesse de
Port Royal.
Vie de la soeur Magdeleine de St. Christine Briquet, religieuse
de Port Royal.
Vie de Marie Anne de St. Eustoquie de Flescelles Bregy, reli
gieuse de Port Royal.
Vie d' Antoine Singlin, directeur de Port Royal.

INTRODUCTION

The celebrated monastery of Port Royal is alike renowned for
its religious and literary fame. The piety, learning, and elegance:
of its writers, equally combined to confer on it a distinction, per
haps unexampled in so small a body of persons, and the epoch of
whose existence scarcely exceeded one century.
The names of Lancelot and Arnauld, the authors of the
Port Royal Grammars, those of the pious historian Rollin, and
the elaborate and accurate Tillemont; the ecclesiastical writers,
Fleury and Racine ; the Institutes of Duguet, the Tragedies
of Racine, the Provinciales and Thoughts of Pascal, the Moral
Essays of Nicole, the Testament of Quesnel, and the Bible of
Saci, are indeed familiar to the English public, but whilst a few
of the moral and literary works of the Jansenist school have
attained their just celebrity in this country, their religious and
biographical writers, though perhaps superior in value, have been
comparatively little known; and the history of the celebrated
Institution of Port Royal itself, that brilliant but brief light of
Catholic Christendom, and of its martyrdom, through the perse
cution of the Jesuits, are still less so.
The Protestant public is perhaps wholly ignorant that from
the time of Henry IV. of France, to the end of the reign of
Louis XIV., there existed in the bosom of the Catholic church a
learned and religious society, who distinctly taught justification
by faith, and who were assiduously occupied in the universal
dissemination of the Scriptures ; still less are they aware that
with this persecuted body originated the First Bible Society, and
that to them we owe that translation of the Scriptures which is
considered above all others, not excepting our own admirable
one, the most excellent, namely the French translation by M. le
Maitre de Saci, which is that used by the British and Foreign
Bible Society. (xxiii)

xxiv INTRODUCTION.
To introduce this venerable body of martyrs and confessors to
the British public, is the object of the present work; though
brief, it professes to be authentic ; it is compiled from the cotem-
porary histories, biographies, relations, and letters of the Port
Royalists themselves, a large collection of whose works the author
possesses; having selected them on the continent during the
peace of 1814. Amongst other libraries, the author visited that
of the Jansenist College at Amersfort, those of Louvain, where
Jansenius and St. Cyran, the fathers of Jansenism, studied;
Brussels, which was the residence of the great Arnauld, and Am
sterdam and Paris, where, under the direction of a celebrated
pastor of the Jansenist church in the one, and that of a venerable
and learned Jansenist bishop in the other, a large collection of the
religious, biographic, and historic works of the Port Royalists
were collected.
The author trusts it will not prove unacceptable to the British
public, especially the religious and literary part of it, to introduce
to their acquaintance characters so eminent for Christian holiness,
and an institution so distinguished for literary celebrity. The
author flatters herself likewise, that to parents it will prove most
valuable to be introduced to so large a field of French literature,
equally distinguished for perfection of style, variety of object, and
eminent piety, and hitherto, with the small exceptions mentioned,
wholly unexplored by the English.
Last, but not least, the author trusts that the truly enlightened
Protestant will rejoice at being presented with examples of emi
nent holiness in a church where his education may least have
taught him to expect it. Nor will he less rejoice, as he sheds a
tear over the fate of Port Royal, that he is himself privileged to
live under a constitution, civil and religious, where the persecu
tions which levelled Port Royal to the dust, and scattered the
ashes of her saints to the winds, can never take place.
May the perusal of this little work increase charity to our
Catholic brethren, but cause us more highly to prize, and more
closely to hold fast our own brighter light and more extended
privileges. And may we rise from it, asking ourselves, if such
were the abundant fruits yielded under that dispensation, what
ought to be those we should bring forth under one which we our
selves esteem to be so far superior ?

TABLE OF CONTENTS,

VOL I.

PAGE
Preliminary Biographical Sketch — Abbe de St. Cyran, 27
Jansenius, ...... 72
Introduction to the Select Memoirs, . - . . 105
Chap. 1. — Institution and Reform of Port Royal — Mere
Angelique — Mere Agnes — Journee du Guichet, - 112
Chap. 2. — Maubuisson — Madame d'Etrees, - - 127
Chap. 3. — Port Royal de Paris — Recluses — Schools, - 165
Chap. 4. — ^Port Royal des Champs — ^Les Granges — ^Esprit de
Port Royal, and la M. Angelique, - - - - 182
Chap. 5. — Civil Wars — ^Horrors of the Anti-christian prac
tice of war, ....-•... 213
Chap. 6. — Causes of enmity against Port Royal — Combina
tion of the Court and the Jesuits against it — Singular
event by which it was quelled, . . - . . 227
Chap. 7. — ^Remarkable conversion of Mde de Longueville —
Renewed persecution — Letter of Madame de Bregy — The
M. Angelique,  247
Chap. 8. — The Soeur Flavie Passart — M. Perefixe archevS-
que de Paris — ^His visit to Port Royal de Paris — Journal
of la Mere Angelique de St. Jean, - - - - 287
Chap. 9. — ^Nuns of the visitation — Doctrine of implicit
obedience — Port Royal de Paris — Letters of M. de St.
Marthe to Port Royal des Champs, to the Abbess of  , 337
Vol. L 4 " ("vj

XXVi TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE
Chap. 10. — Journal of the Mere Angelique de St. Jean — •
State of Port Royal des Champs — Excellent letter of M.
de St. Marthe to the community of Port Royal des Champs
— Recluses, -- ---387
Chap. 11. — Pacification of Clement IX — Port Royal des
Champs — Its wide celebrity — Soeur Flavie Passart — ^Doro
thee Perdreau — Madame de Mongobert's relation, - 430
Chap. 12. — ^Death of Madame de Longueville — Violent
Persecution — Recluses exiled — M. de Saci — Mere Ange
lique de St. Jean — Beautiful letters of M. de St. Marthe,
and I'Abbe Boileau, ...... 450

PRELIMINARY BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

op the lives op the

ABBE DE ST. CYRAN AND JANSENIUS.

Jean Du Verger* De Hauranne, the Abbe de
St. Cyran, was bom at Bayonne, in 1581. His
family was both noble and ancient. The Du Ver
gers originally came from Thoulouse. Two broth
ers of that name were appointed by the king to
establish a mint at Bayonne. The family after
guards divided into three branches. The eldest
Hubsisted at Bayonne long after the destruction of
Port Royal. It is mentioned by Lancelot, in his
Memoires de St. Cyran, as one of the most consid
erable in the place. The third centered in an
heiress of immense wealth, who intermarried with
the noble house of Urthubie. The second branch
was engaged in extensive commercial concerns.
From it sprung M. Jean du Vergier, afterwards the
celebrated Abbe de St. Cyran.
M. du Vergier, although heir to the estate of
Hauranne, received an academical education. He
* Indifferently spelled Verger or Vergier, by different authors.
(27)

28 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
accomplished his studies with great distinction at
the Universities both of Paris and Louvain.
In 1620, M. Du Vergier was appointed to the
abbacy of the monastery of St. Cyran (or Serigan-
nus). This benefice was resigned to him by Henry
de la Rochepozay, Bishop of Poitiers, under whom
he officiated as Grand Vicar, and who was also his
zealous patron.
The Abbe de St. Cyran had formed one early
and intimate friendship. Cornelius Jansenius was
only four years younger than himself. Both had
been educated at Louvain. The similarity of their
pursuits, and a coincidence of circumstances, ce
mented a union which their mutual piety had at
first formed.
The health of Jansenius had suffered by intense
application. He was advised, on leaving college,
to try the air of France. The house of M. de St.
Cyran, at Bayonne, was soon opened to him.
Both parties embraced with pleasure so favorable
an opportunity of continuing their intimacy. Al
though their education was completed, the ardour
of each for improvement was unabated. They
applied themselves to the study of the Fathers.
Their assiduity was unremitting, their researches
were extensive. The industry which distinguished
their theological studies, was alone exceeded by
their perseverance and fervour in prayer. The
foundation of their subsequent greatness was laid
in a deep sense of their own insufficiency, accom
panied by a firm reliance on divine goodness and
power.

THE ABBE DE ST. CTRAN. ^0
But the chief foundation of the exalted piety
which distinguished M. de St. Cyran, was laid in
an unremitting study of the Holy Scriptures, and
in the supereminent degree of reverence with
which he regarded the word of God. M. Lance
lot observes of him, " One may justly say of this
great servant of God, that the Holy Scripture was
his sole treasure ; there he placed his heart, truly
feeling in his own soul the same disposition by
which David confessed, that he loved the word of
God beyond every treasure, or precious thing the
world contained." His manner, too, of reading
Scripture was altogether holy. He often remarked,
that in order to profit. Scripture must be read
with a portion of the very same spirit by which it
was written ; with a deep prostration of heart, and
with a supreme reverence for the divine Majesty
which resides there. Indeed, he had so super-
eminent a reverence for Holy Writ, that he con
tinually told his disciples they ought to read
scarcely anything else. " The Fathers," observed
he, "read the Scriptures alone, and we likewise
should find all there if we in truth searched them
as we ought. Every word in Scripture," said he,
"deserves to be weighed more attentively than
pieces of gold. The best method," he used to say,
" of reading Scripture, is to do it simply, applying
it to one's own heart, and sedulously reducing it all
to practice."
In his after-life, M. de St. Cyran was still dis
tinguished by the same reverence for the word of
God. Many years afterwards, writing to a young

30 PRELIMIKARY SKETCH.
man newly converted, this devoted servant of God
uses the following remarkable expressions: "God
has various methods of drawing souls to himself;
yet I think you have cause to be particularly
thankful that your heart, when it was first touched,
was awakened by the words of Christ himself in
the Gospel. For surely no means of conversion
can be more apostolic, than that which is effected
by the word of God. This is the great means of
conversion which God himself has appointed.
By the sole distribution and dispersion of the
Scriptures it is that God has converted, and still
does convert, both Jews and Pagans. The Scrip
tures are the grand instrument by which God
originally founded his Church, and by which he
still continually reforms, maintains and aug
ments it."
Besides the perusal of the Scriptures, which he
urged upon all his disciples, he was also well
versed himself in the writings of the Fathers, and
entertained a high reverence for them. Never
theless he always preserved inviolate, the wide
distance which ought to separate every human com
position from the supreme veneration due to divine
revelation. The first, indeed, were frequently the
objects of his studies; but the latter alone con
tinually forme4 the sole subject of his prayers and
meditations. He often observed, " that the Holy
Scriptures had been penned by the direct beam of
the Holy Spirit ; the works of the Fathers (excellent
as they were) only by the rejlex ray emanating
therefrom." Amongst all the books of Holy

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 31
Writ, those on which he most constantly meditated
were those of the New Testament, but more espe
cially the four Gospels. For he often said, that St.
Paul had drawn all his principles, and even his
ideas, from the Gospels ; and that if they were at
tentively perused, the germ of all the apostolical
writing.? might be discovered there.
M. de St. Cyran used to recommend it to his
disciples, daily to study the Scriptures on their
knees. "Jesus Christ himself," said he, "has
written nothing; showing us thereby, that the
f^ublimity of godliness can only be worthily rep
resented by the living actions of his mortal life;
of which the evangelists have traced us a faithful
picture. The Gospels, therefore, may be said to be
a monument as eternal as the Eucharist. The one
of which is destined to show forth our Lord's death
for all, and the other is life for all, even until the
day of his coming."
The profound erudition for which they were af
terwards so celebrated, they never pursued as an
ultimate object. It was a means to something be1>
ter, not an end. To renew the heart by a thor
ough conversion from all creatures to the Creator ;
to enlighten the spiritual understanding by the
study, not of human opinions, but of revealed truth ;
these were the two grand objects of M. de St. Cyran
and of his friend. These were their motives in
studying the works of men whose reputation for
sanctity the Church has so long acknowledged.
These ends too they thought mutually assisted each
other. All that knowledge of religious truth which

32 preliminary sketch.
is really spiritually discerned, must kindle divine
love in the heart ; and whenever divine love is kin
dled in the heart, the spiritual understanding will
be opened to the perception of divine truth. The
word of God never separates genuine spiritual light
from genuine spiritual heat. Hence, perhaps, it
was that they adopted their favorite motto, " Unde
ardet unde Ivcet." They only wished to be shining
lights, from the heat by which they were burning
lights. Perhaps it was the conformity of their minds, as
Avell as a similar degree of growth in grace, which
led them to view the writings of the Fathers in the
same light. However this may be, at that period
it was they mutually adopted that system, after
wards so celebrated under the name of Jansenism.
With which of them it originated would be difficult
to decide. By the world it was ascribed to Janse
nius, because it was first made pubhc by his com
mentary on St. Austin.
By M. de St. Cyran and his friend, this system
was not considered as their own, but as the funda
mental doctrine of the Christian church. They
imagined themselves amongst the small number
who faithfully adhered to St. Augustine, in the
midst of a corrupt and degenerate age.
The object of this little work is not controversial.
Even were it so, it would not be possible to give
an accurate dehneation of this celebrated system
in the short compass of a note. Will the followino-
compendious definition be accepted ? It is cursory,
and far from accurate. Yet it will probably present

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 33
a sufficiently clear view of the subject to a merely
general reader. Jansenism may then be said to
be in doctrine the Calvinism, and in practice the
Methodism of the Romish church.
Both the Genevese reformer and the Bishop of
Ypres derived their sentiments from the same
source. Both ascribed their system to St. Austin ;
though each adopted it under different modifica
tions. Again, both the disciples of Jansenius, and
the most strict orders amongst modern dissenters,
used to be distinguished for the complete renuncia
tion of the world, under its three grand branches,
as described by St. John, the lust of the flesh, the
lust of the eyes, and the pride of life. Both have
been remarked for being in prayer, in watchings,
and in fastings oft. In many respects, indeed, the
comparison does not apply.
After six years of close study, M. de St. Cyran
and Jansenius separated. The latter returned to
Louvain; the former established himself at Paris.
After an interval of some years, Jansenius was
elected to the See .of Ypres, of which he was seventh
bishop. M. de St. Cyran meanwhile gained an extensive
reputation at Paris. His simple, mortified air, and
his humble garb, formed a striking contrast with
the awful sanctity of his countenance, the holiness
of his demeanor, and his native lofty dignity of
manner. The Parisians were struck with astonish
ment. M. de St. Cyran was especially eminent for
that force of character, by which men of strong
minds silently but certainly govern tho.se of wea^
Vol. L "' 5

34 preliminary sketch.
ones. His appearance no sooner arrested the eye,
than his character began to gain a powerful but
irresistible ascendency over the mind and heart.
Every one felt the strength of this influence, and the
conscience of each bore witness that it came from
God. Holy, wise, and strictly sincere, none could
know him and not feel the value of such an adviser.
Gentle, courteous, and discreet, few could be with
him without wishing to repose their confidence in
so valuable a friend. On the other hand, a perfect
calmness and self-possession, a coolness, equally
the result of native strength of character, and of a
heart elevated above sublunary things, a certain ele
vation in his manners, equally the result of tem
perament and of education, inspired even his nearest
friend« with a reverential deference. His firm and
penetrating eye, and his majestic countenance, are
adverted to by most of his biographers. Lancelot
mentions this expression as peculiarly striking, even
after his death. "The corpse," said he, "was so
full of gravity and solemn majesty, that even his
enemies must have been seized with awe on behold
ing it." M. de St. Cyran's deep self-knowledge gave
him equal penetration in discovering, and patience
in bearing the infirmities of others. He united the
rare talents of being a most discerning, and yet a
most wise and faithful director. He was resorted
to on every hand as a spiritual guide.
Nor was M. de St. Cyran esteemed alone by the
religious. The polite and learned equally valued
his society and attainments. Cardinal Richelieu.
whilst Bishop of Lupon, had known him at Poitiers.

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 35
At that early period he had justly appreciated M.
de St. Cyran's merits. He now introduced him at
court as the most deeply learned man in Europe.
His celebrity daily increased. Eight bighopricks
were successively offered him. It was not, however,
preferment which M. de St. Cyran sought.
He industriously shrunk, on the contrary, from
popular observation. The more fortune courted
him, the more assiduously did he seek the shelter
of obscurity.
Their early acquaintance had given him a thor
ough knowledge of the character of the minister.
He received all Cardinal Richelieu's civilities with
respect, but with firmness withstood his advances.
He at the same time renounced all unnecessary
visits. M. de St. Cyran retired to a remote lodging op
posite the convent of the Carthusians, where all his
time was occupied in prayer, study, acts of charitj?,
and spiritual direction. He was never to be met
with at the tables of the great, nor was he visible in
the streets, but on errands of piety or of mercy.
Though no more to-be seen in society, the influ
ence of M. de Cyran began to be sensibly felt. Ef
fects originating in him were soon perceptible in
every circle. The number of those under his direc
tion had increased continually. The fruits of his
instruction began to appear. His disciples were
soon sufficiently considerable to fix the attention of
the public. They were of that variety of descrip
tion that caused their influence to be felt in circles
of every denomination.

36 preliminary sketch
In the midst of a capital distinguished for pro
fligacy, a multitude of every class were suddenly
seen to withdraw from the dissipations of the world,
whilst they became doubly assiduous in every duty.
Persons pampered in luxury and self-indulgence,
all at once became self-denjing, abstemious, and
temperate. Others, characterized by the lawless
vices attendant on protracted civil wars, were in the
course of a few months distinguished for regularity,
charity, humility, and gentleness. All of them
became remarkable for unfeigned devotion, prayer,
alms-deeds, and all the good fruits produced by a
firm faith, working by zealous love. Persons were
astonished at seeing even the manners and expres
sion of countenance of their nearest relations wholly
changed. Nor did this metamorphosis take place
in a few instances only. Many in every rank and
every order of society, seemed inspired by a new
influence. Religious bouses, dignitaries in the church, pri
vate individuals, men of the first eminence in the
faculty, the law, and the army ; ministers of state,
peers of the realm, princes of -the blood royal; each
could produce several out of their number, who be
gan truly to fear and love God. Their savour began
to be diffused all around.
About this time, M. de St. Cyran became
acquainted with the celebrated monastery of Port
Royal. M. Zamet, Bishop of Langres, had been in
duced by Louisa, first wife of the Duke of Lono'ue-
ville, to establish a religious house in honor of the
blessed Eucharist. The abbess of Port Royal,

the ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 37
Marie Angelique Arnauld, was a kdy greatly dis
tinguished for the depth of her piety, and for her
uncommon strength of mind. She had also ac
quired a great portion of celebrity by the astonishing
reform she had recently established at Port Royal,
and was then occupied in effecting, throughout a
variety of religious houses of the same order. M.
Zamet was persuaded he could not make choice of
any person so well qualified to establish his new
institution. The house was scarcely founded,
when it was involved in numerous and unexpected
difficulties, from the enmity which the Bishop of
Sens entertained towards M. Zamet.. M. de St.
Cyran was unacquainted with either party. A
small tract, said to be written by one of the new
society, had been much handed about in Paris. It
was entitled " Chapelet secret du Saint Sacrement,"
and consisted chiefly of prayers or spontaneous
effusions of heart, on the blessed sacrament. It
was characterized by much fervent piety on the
one hand, whilst on the other, many passages
were expressed Avith an enthusiasm, and an un
guarded latitude, which rendered them susceptible
of a malicious construction. This little work was
in reality a private meditation, surreptitiously ob
tained from its author. M. de Sens most yehe-
inently declared himself against it, and endea
vored in a little pamphlet which he published,
to hold it up to the ridicule of the public. M. de
St. Cyran had indeed perceived the unguarded
expressions in the " Chapelet secret," but he also
appreciated the deep piety which breathed through

38 preliminary sketch.
the whole. Seeing that piety itself was attacked,
he wrote a very able defence, which completely
decided the public mind in favor of the work so
much patronized by M. de Langres. The bishop
was much pleased with the work. He introduced
himself to its author, and the acquaintance, thus
casually begun, soon improved into a high vene
ration and esteem. M. Zamet was soon after
appointed to a post out of Paris. He requested
M. de St. Cyran to direct the new institution in
his absence. Other difficulties, however, arose, and
a short time after M. de Zamet's Institut de St.
Sacrement was dropped. The nuns returned to
Port Royal. They did not fail to speak of M. de
St. Cyran's extraordinary merit. During his resi
dence at Paris, also, he had formed an intimac}"
with M. Arnauld D' Andilly, eldest brother to the
abbess of Port Royal. He introduced M. de St.
Cyran, personally, to his sister, the Rev. Mere Marie
Angelique. Such was the origin of M. de St. Cyran's
acquaintance with Port Royal; he was soon after
instituted director of that monastery, since so dis
tinguished for talent, learning, and piety, and so
persecuted, as the head-quarters of the reputed Jan-
senists. At this period, however, the recent reform at Port
Royal was the theme of general admiration. Both
M. de St. Cyran and his followers appeared at this
season to grow in favor equally with God and man.
The calm was not of long duration. About this
period was announced the intention of Jansenius to

THE ABBE DE ST. cyran. 39
publish a translation of St. Austin, with an ample
commentary. This celebrated work occupied its
x'enerable author twenty jears. On the very day
of its completion he was seized with the plague, and
expired. The Jesuits had long entertained a secret enmit\"
against the bishop of Ypres. Many years before a
contest had taken place between the Jesuits and
the University of Louvain. Jansenius was, from
his office in the University, deputed to plead in its
behalf. Jansenius proved successful. It is said the
Jesuits never forgave him. In their enmity to Jan
senius, they soon included M. de St. Cyran, his
early friend.
The dislike of the Jesuits was fomented also hy
the opposition of their theological sentiments. The
Jesuits did not agree with the disciples of St. Aus
tin, in holding the doctrines of grace. So far, no
doubt, but many wise and good men might have
united with them in opinion, though at the same
time they would have shrunk from taking part in
the persecutions by which it was afterwards main
tained. Of this number, it is well known, was
Fenelon. In another point, likewise, the Jesuits
differed from the friends of Jansenius. M. de St.
Cyran was charged with having inculcated, that a
mere abstinence from outward sin, from the dread
of divine vengeance, was by no means a proof of
genuine conversion. A deep sorrow for sin, arising
from a genuine love of God, and an heartfelt grief
for having offended him, were, he insisted, indispen
sably necessary to a truly evangelical repentance.

40 preliminary sketch.
This the Jesuits observed was a heresy of the first
magnitude. The writings of several of their doc
tors had demonstrated the love of God to be super
fluous. Cardinal Richelieu, when bishop of Lugon,
had written a catechism for the use of his diocese.
This catechism maintained the same doctrines. —
Father Seg^enot, too, of the Oratoire, had recently
been imprisoned in the Bastile, for asserting the
love of God to be indispensably essential. Nor was
this the only heresy alleged against M. de St. Cyran.
He was accused of having asserted that the priest
cannot in fact absolve from sin. He was said to
have declared, that absolution and remission of
sins belong to God alone. He indeed allowed that
a competent discernment of spirits, was a grace
conferred by the sacrament of ordination. He be
lieved, therefore, that where the priest was truly
faithful to the grace imparted, and only when he
was so, he might (where an evangelical repentance
and faith were evidenced by corresponding fruits)
pronounce an absolution truly declaratory of the
will of God. Otherwise, and of itself, he believed
it could not avail an impenitent sinner, to procure
absolution from an unconscientious priest. This
heresy was esteemed of equal magnitude with the
preceding. The enmity which the Jesuits exhibited against
M. de St. Cyran, was by no means attributed
wholly to theological doctrines. Many ascribed a
great part, if not the whole of their apparent
religious zeal, to hterary jealousy, and to personal
pique.

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 41
The religious writers amongst the Jesuits had
long been esteemed as bearing a decided pre-emi
nence. Several v/orks had, however, lately ap
peared, which divided the public opinion. Although
anonymous, they were soon traced to Port Royal.
Others succeeded, equally distinguished for pro-
ibund erudition, fervent piety, and classic elegance
of style. A great sensation was produced on the
mind of the public. " lis sont marques au coin de
Port Boyal — They are struck at the mint of Port
Royal," became the fashionable phrase of literary
or religious commendation. Nor was their eulogy
confined to empty popular applause. It was soon
observed, that the diffusion of these pubhcations
was attended with corresponding fruits. Men
began every where to turn to God. Many of the
blasphemous, rapacious, and voluptuous, became
holy, just, and temperate. Several, whose lives
had caused a public scandal, became eminent ex
amples of devoted piety. It was remarked, that
whilst the works of the Jesuits were clothed with
scholastic wisdom, those of the Port Royalists
seemed accompanied with divine power. The pe
rusal of the former furnished matter for conversa
tion ; that of the latter terminated frequently in deep
compunction and solid conversion.
The Port Royalists arose, indeed, at a time unfor
tunate for the Jesuits. The excellent authors
their society had produced were gone. They had
not been succeeded by others of equal piety and
wisdom. Their places were indeed filled up by
Vol. I. 6

42 preliminary sketch.
men of learning. But that learning was un-
tbrtunately exercised at this time, chiefly in the
subtilties of casuistic divinity. The main object
of this society was to extend the power of the
Romish See. It was founded by Ignatius de
Loyola, just at the very time when Luther began
his reform.* Whilst one of these great men,
beholding the deep corruptions of the Church,
endeavored to shake the papal domination to its
very foundation, the other, who had in the same
Church, first tasted the goodness of God, was lay
ing the foundations of a society, whose chief object
was to strengthen its power and extend its in
fluence. The company founded by Ignatius had,
in the space of a century, sensibly degenerated in
piety. Their object was still the same; but the
means they took to accomplish it were not so pure.
Their learning and talents had obtained for them
a high rank in public esteem, which the negularity
* It is singular, that in the same year that Luther maintained
his apostacy in the diet at Worms, and retiring himself into his
monastery of Alstat, wrote a book against monastic vows,
Ignatius consecrated himself to God in the Church of Mount-
serrat ; and in his retreat of Manreze, wrote the spiritual exer
cises which afterwards served to model his order. At the time
Calvin began to gather disciples in Paris, Ignatius, who also was
there to study, began to assemble his company; and lastly, at the
very same time when Henry the Eighth assumed the title of
Head of the Church, and commanded all his subjects, under pain
of death, to raze the Pope's name from their papers and bookp,
Ignatius de Loyola laid the foundation of a new society, in a pe
culiar manner devoted to the service of the Holy See. — Vide Bou-
hcmr's Li/e of Ignatius.

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 43
of their lives enabled them to preserve. Their
numerous seminaries for the education of youth ;
and theJr filling up the posts of confessors to all
the great families, gave them a very powerful in-
iluence. This influence it was their grand aim to
preserve and extend. To this end it became
necessary to frame a system of morality, which
should in fact be so lax as to give no offence to
the multitude, who were resolved to continue in
sin; whilst on the other hand, it skilfully main
tained those appearances of sanctity, which would
save their reputation with the truly pious. Such
¦was the origin of that famous system of casuistic
divinity, which was afterwards so fully exposed,
and so ably refuted in Pascal's inimitable Lettres
Provinciales. Almost all the best writers amongst
the Jesuits were at this time engaged in defending
the subtilties of casuistic divinity. It was per
ceived that their works were rather distinguished
for elaborate sophistry, than for solid and valuable
truths. Nay, in some of them, it was but too
obvious, that the main object of the writer was to
sanction immorality, and to disarm even natural
conscience of its sting. The disciples of St. Aus
tin exposed these fallacies. The society of Jesuits
had been sufficiently distinguished for men both
of exalted piety and profound learning. It is then
to be regretted, that the whole body thought
* The reader is referred to the edition of Lettres Provinciales
with Wendroek's notes, especially Lettre 5, sur la Probabilite ;
Lettre 6, Artifices pour eluder les Coneiles ; Lettre 7, sur la Me-
thode de dinger I'lntention; Lettres sur I'lloimcide, 13 et 14.,

44 preliminary sketch.
themselves involved by the just censure of a few
unworthy individuals.
Another cause likewise is mentioned as having
greatly contributed to incense the Jesuits against
the reputed Jansenists,
There were many persons of rank and fortune
amongst M. de St. Cyran's friends. Several of them
had numerous families. They consulted with M. de
St. Cyran respecting their education. They wished
to unite a liberal and extensive plan of instruction,
with an enlightened piety, and well-grounded Chris
tian education. They were desirous to combine
that pubhc education, which would capacitate them
for an enlarged sphere of patriotic usefulness, with
those guarded and strict habits, which might pre
serve an uncontaminated innocence of mind.
A number of little schools were immediately in
stituted under M. de St. Cyran's inspection. A vast
and luminous system of instruction was digested.
Men of the first piety and learning were invited to
accept the office of instructors. Nicole, Lancelot,
and Fontaine, taught in these seminaries, The
great Arnauld and Saci employed their pens in their
service. These schools were under the direction of
Port Royal. The Port Royal Greek and Latin
grammars, the Greek primitives, and the elements
of logic and geometry soon made their appearance.
In a short time they were not only to be found in
every school in France, but they were diffused
throughout all Europe.
The reputation of these schools very soon en
grossed the public esteem. The seminaries of the

the abbe de ST. CYRAN. 45
Jesuits had long enjoyed a deserved celebrit3^ On
them hitherto had almost exclusively devolved the
education of the higher classes. They now felt
considerable mortification at seeing themselves
rivalled, if not far excelled, by the recent estab
lishments of Port Royal.
With so many grounds of dislike, it is scarcely to
be wondered at, that the Jesuits felt piqued ; and
that they were little disposed to think well of their
rivals. Even a truly pious individual would find a
large portion of grace necessary to preserve Christian
love under such circumstances. A body of men
may profess orthodox principles, but it can never be
expected that the majority should be actuated by
unmixed evangelical tempers. A few deeply reli
gious individuals may be found in perhaps all pro
fessing societies ; but even as it respects them, the
temptation will be found strong, where party so
licits, under the disguise of unfeigned love of our
own brethren. Hence even the best men may be
expected to act more consistently when they act
singly, than collectively.
The Jesuits exerted every effort first to get the
Avork of Jansenius suppressed, and afterwards to
quash the little company of his disciples. The
friends of M. de St. Cyran had, with his virtues,
imbibed his peculiar opinions. Whilst they steadily
maintained the grand doctrines of the gospel, thejr
were also strenuous advocates for the system of
grace. They published in defence of the work
of Jansenius. The Jesuits as vehemently renewed
the attack. At length they appealed to Rome,

46 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
hoping finally to crush a system which has always
had some of the most pious persons on its side;
and which, in this instance, had the most learned
and the most spiritual body of men then extant,
among its professors.
Such was the beginning of an unfortunate con
test, which in its progress levelled Port Royal with
the ground. Nor did those who aimed the blow,
themselves escape its recoil. Port Royal, indeed,
was annihilated ; but the tide of public opinion
was turned against its cruel and relentless oppres
sors. They had calumniated the reputed Jan
senists ; but those calumnies had provoked the
'¦ Lettres Provinciales," which rendered them at once
the object of ridicule and contempt to Europe.
They had successfully wielded the arm of secular
and ecclesiastical authority to the destruction of the
Port Royalists; but they were recompensed with
that abhorrence and execration, which attends those
who are supposed to have used the mask of sanc
tity, for the gratification of private interest and
personal malice. It is more than probable that
during this period, were sown those seeds which
afterwards matured in the suppression of the order
of Jesuits. So terminated a quarrel, which per
haps originated in an innocent difference of senti
ment, on an abstruse point, which has divided the
opinions of mankind in every age. A point, how
ever, which, whilst in all ages it has divided men
of the first talents in opinion, has not, in any, sep
arated the most truly pious in mutual esteem and
Christian love.

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 47
¦ This controversy soon engaged the attention of
all France. Nor was an active part in it long con
fined to the ecclesiastics only.
It was before observed, that Cardinal Richelieu
had formerly, when Bishop of Lugon, had some
ticquaintance with M. de St. Cyran. He respected
his piety, for he had then no projects with which it
could interfere. He admired his talents, for they
were not called forth in competition with his own.
He well knew the high estimation in which M. de
St. Cyran was held in the Church. He wished,
therefore, to gain him over as a powerful engine of
, ecclesiastical influence. With this view, the minis
ter sought his early friend. He courted his inti
macy, and offered him benefices. M. de Cyran was
aware of his views. He treated the Cardinal -with
that respect his situation demanded, but he declined
his overtures. The Cardinal's esteem was converted
into dislike. It was increased on the publication
of the catechism of Lugon. M. de Richelieu piqued
himself on being yet more eminent as a theologian
than as a politician. He considered it presump
tuous in M. de St. Cyran to teach the necessity of
the disinterested love of God, after he had pub
lished that it was superfluous. It was not long
before M. de St. Cyran experienced the effects of
his resentment.
The Cardinal was exceedingly anxious to annul
the marriage of his enemy Gaston, Duke of Or
leans, with his second wife Margaret, Princess of
Lorraine. He had long had this project at heart.
It was necessary to strengthen his influence by

48 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
some powerful sanction, in order to overcome the
scruples which conscience suggested to Louis XIII.
He applied to the court of Rome. Both the apos
tolic See and the foreign universities declared, to
his great disappointment, the marriage to be valid.
Highly incensed, but unabashed, the Cardinal re
mained firm to his purpose. Far from yielding the
point, the undaunted minister called a general
assembly of the most celebrated amongst the regu
lar and secular clergy in France. He proposed the
question. They had not courage to brave the
weight of his displeasure. An unwilling assent
was extorted, and the marriage was declared nuU^
by parliainentary edict (arret de parlement).
The vindictive temper of the minister was well
known. Many of the French clergy, intimidated
by his despotic power, gratuitously vindicated this
iniquitous decree.
M. de St. Cyran maintained an unbroken silence.
Cardinal Richelieu was very anxious to obtain the
assent of so distinguished a character. He wished
the sanction of a man who was well known to
possess so extensive an influence. The strict mo
rality of M de St. Cyran would not bend to the
will of the minister. On the other hand, his pru
dence prevented him from uttering a rash censure.
which he knew would not only be fruitless, but
would serve as a pretext for his own ruin.
The Cardinal, meanwhile, was resolved either to
extort M. de St. Cyran's assent, or to involve him
in destruction. Magnificent offers were made on
the part of the minister to obtain his sanction.

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 49
whilst secret emissaries were at the same time em
ployed in proposing artful questions to him. They
hoped, under the pretence of religious scruples, to
surprise him into a censure which would effect his
ruin. Both these methods were alike ineffectual.
M. de St. Cyran's silence was inviolable.
The Cardinal's enmity was thus bereft of every
ostensible plea, when, most opportunely for him, the
contest on Jansenism arose. The pretext he had
so long assiduously sought, was now spontaneously
presented. The Cardinal espoused the cause of the
Jesuits. No less than fifteen new accusations ap
peared against M. de St. Cyran.
The Cardinal declared himself ready to exercise
his authority in behalf of the Church. M. de St.
Cyran's friends were for a time expelled from Port
Royal. He was himself seized as a heretic, and
immured in the dungeon of Vincennes.
His house was beset on the evening of Ascension
day, by two and twenty armed guards. They
kept watch all night, with the hopes that some
circumstance might transpire, to which a malig
nant interpretation might be affixed. For the
Cardinal felt very anxious to fabricate a cause
which might justify the detention of a man so
highly respected. In this, however, he was foiled ;
a perfect stillness reigned within the house, which
was the habitation of peace and prayer. The}
therefore entered the house, and went to the room
of M. de St. Cyran. He was sitting in his study,
meditating over a passage of St. Augustin, whose
works lay open before him. The captain told him
Vol. I. 7

50 PEELIJIINARY SKETCH.
he had orders that he should immediately follow
him. "Sir," replied M. de St. Cyran, calmly,
"it is equally my duty and my pleasure to obey
the King." So saying, he stepped into the car
riage, which Avas immediately surrounded by a com
pany of archers. They took the road to Vincennes.
As they were crossing the forest in which the
fortress was situated, they met M. d' Andilly, who
was going to his country-seat at Pomponne. The
guards who attended M. de St. Cyran, had re
ceived orders to turn back the facings of their
regimentals, so as to excite no suspicion. M.
d'Andilly, astonished to see his friend so numer
ously attended, rode. up to the side of the carriage,
and cheerfully said, " Where can you be travelling
with such an escort of servants?" M. de St.
Cyran replied with a smile, "You should rather
ask them where I am trtivelUng to. They lead
me, not I them. However, my dear friend," pur
sued he, seriously, "I consider myself, and trust
all my dear friends will consider me, as the
prisoner rather of God than of men." M.
d'Andilly happened to have in his hand the con
fessions of St. Austin. He gave it his friend,
saying, " You first taught me the worth of this
book ; I am glad I can restore it to you at a time
when it can be of as much value to you, as the
gift of it was to me." They then embraced as
friends who expect to see each other's face no
more, till the morn of the resurrection of the just.
M. de St. Cyran pursued his journey. His im
prisonment took place on the 14th of May, 1638.

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 51
In this instance Cardinal Richelieu eminently justi
fied the character he gave of himself. Speaking to
the Marquis de la Vieuville, he once said, " Je rHose
rien entreprendre sans y avoir hien pense, mais qvund
tone fois j'ai pris ma resolution, je vais a mon hut, je
renverse tout, je fauche tout, et ensuite je couvre tout
de ma soutane rouge."
M. de St. Cyren suffered much at Vincennes.
His books, papers, pens and ink, were for a consid
erable time withheld from him. He was not only
deprived of seeing his friends ; but, by the avarice
of his jailor, was frequently destitute of an ade
quate supply of food. The dungeon in which he
was immured was damp, and exposed to all the
inclemencies of the seasons. Nor had he to contend
alone with outward sufferings. He had not only
to encounter foes without, but likewise fightings
within. Whilst worldly men only suffer from the
deprivation of worldly comforts, the true servant
of God is chiefly cast down by a fear lest he should
in any degree betray his master's cause, by not
walking worthy of his vocation.
The first thing M. de St. Cyran did, on entering
his dungeon, was to throw himself on his knees,
and to beseech his Lord to give him the grace to
profit by it. He implored him to accept both his
soul and body as a living sacrifice, wholly devoted
to his service ; and he entreated him so to direct his
heart, that he might, from his inmost soul, have no
other will than his.
Nevertheless, the Lord saw fit, at first, to try
his highly favored servant, by Avithdrawing from

52 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
him all sensible perception of spiritual comfort. He
might truly be said to accompany his divine Master
in the garden. His soul Avas troubled and sore
amazed. All joyful sense of the divine presence
left him ; grievous temptations assailed him on all
sides, and the subtle enemy of his soul, the accuser
of the brethren, was permitted continually to harass
his heart by accusations, best suited to the tender
ness of his conscience.
God knows the souls that are his. And when
he sees fit to try them, he can suit those trials to
probe the very inmost heart, and to try the very
ground of the soul, in a manner which no other
can. All that man can inflict upon us is merely
external, and is therefore comparatively light.
But when the Father of Spirits searches the heart,
as with candles, when the messenger of the cove
nant comes as a refiner's fire, who shall stand the
day of his appearing, or who shall not shrink
under that word which is as a tAvo-edged sword.
Then, indeed, it is felt to be a discerner of the
thoughts and intents of the heart, and to divide
between the joints and marrow, anatomizing the
very soul and spirit.
During the first fortnight of his imprisonment,
the Lord permitted his faithful servant to be
deeply exercised, that the trial of his faith, more
precious than that of gold, though it was tried with
fire, might be found to the praise, and honour,
and glory of God, at the appearing of Jesus
Christ. A deep sense of his own utter unworthi-
ness humbled him to the dust; and the aAvful

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 53
judgments of/ God seemed impending over him.
He was indeed traversing the valley of the shadow
of death. Even the Scriptures failed to give him
comfort. Every passage which was presented to
his mind, seemed not applied by the Spirit of God,
but wrested by the powers of darkness to his far
ther perplexity. All the curses of God appeared
levelled against him ; nor was he enabled to rely
Avith joyous faith on any promise. It appeared
that he who was to lead so many souls to God,
Avas appointed to undergo the same trials as Peter,
the rock on which the Jewish and Gentile churches
Avere built; and Satan was permitted to sift both
these eminent servants of the Lord as wheat. It
was indeed the hour of the powers of darkness.
Still, however, though deeply tried, his faith
failed not. He could appeal to the Lord that he
had kept his integrity ; he could say. Thou
knowest. Lord, the way that I would take, and
after I am tried I shall come forth like gold. He
endeavored to follow^ the exhortation of the pro
phet, who commands those who obey the voice of
the Lord, and walk in darkness and have no
light, to trust in the name of the Lord, and stay
upon their God. He therefore steadily walked in
his precepts, waiting for his re-appearance. This
state of desolation did not continue long. His
faith having been tried, the Lord again appeared
from heaven, and his Spirit again returned into
his heart as the comforter. He had been spend
ing some time in prayer, A\'hen these AA'ords, from
the 119th Psalm, Avere poAverfully applied to his

54 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
heart, "Princes have persecuted me without a
cause, but my heart stood in aAve of thy AVord
only." The whole of the 9 th Psalm too was im
mediately after presented to him Avith a degree of
light and unction which he had never experienced.
He was instantly enabled to feel joy and peace in
believing, to suffer long, seeking not his own, and
not being provoked, to bear all things, to hope all
things, and to endure all things. And trying the
spirit by its fruits, he kncAV it to be of God.
From that hour, M. de St. Cyran experienced un
interrupted peace. The joy in his Lord was his
strength, and during the whole of his imprison
ment he was uniformly enabled to rejoice evermore,
to pray without ceasing, and in everytliing to give
thanks. As soon as his books were restored, he resumed
his studies. His hours were divided between
prayer, study, and acts of charity. Some of his
most valuable works were composed whilst in the
fortress of Vincennes. To his charity, also, many
amongst his guards and felloAV-prisoners were in
debted, not only for a supply of temporal neces
sities, but, under God, for the salvation of their
souls. The governor of the fortress himself be
came soon a converted character. Those com
mitted to his charge soon felt the good fruits of his
piety. M. de St. Cyran's charity Avas fervent and
genuine. It not only consulted the necessities,
but the feelings of others. It Avas the custom at
Vincennes, that all the prisoners should attend

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 55
mass once a day. He observed that several of
them, amongst whom Avere two or three persons
of distinction, Avere very thinly clad. M. de St.
Cyran immediately packed up some of his books,
and sent them with a letter to a lady of his ac
quaintance in Paris, requesting her to sell the
books, and with the money to buy a supply of
clothing for the prisoners. " I will also thank
you, madam," continued he, " to buy some
clothes for the Baron and Baroness de Beausoleil.
Pray let the cloth be fine and good, such as suits
their rank. I do not know what is proper, but I
think I have somewhere heard, that gentlemen
and ladies of their condition cannot appear with
out gold lace for the men, and black lace for the
Avomen. If so, pray get the best, and, in short,
let all be done modestly, but yet sufficiently
handsomely, that, in looking at each other, they
may, for a few minutes at least, forget that they
are captives." To this letter the lady returned a
remonstrance, observing that this money econo
mized, might be better employed, and more
suitably to his ecclesiastical character. To this
he answered, " I do not believe that the Lord,
Avho commands me to give Caesar that which is
Caesar's, will account me a bad steward for giving
modestly to each according to that rank in Avhich
he placed them. The deepest rivers cause the
least noise; and the most enlightened piety is
generally the least singular. The Christian rule
is, to do as we would be done by ; and if you ask
me how w^e should act towards ourselves in ex-

56 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
penses which custom alone has rendered necessary,
I shall answer. Never lavish upon your rank what
it only allows ; and n&ver refuse to it what it indis
pensably exacts. The violator of the first rule is a
bad steward, the violator of the second wants that
Christian humility which makes the true child of
God submit for his sake, to the powers and ordi
nances that be. Now the rule which decides
what we should allow ourselves, regulates also
Avhat we should give others; for we are to love
our neighbour as ourselves ; and, therefore, the
degree in which we are to consult our own rank,
is that also in which we are to regard his." The
lady immediately bought the things. They Avere
conveyed into the prisoners' apartments, who never
suspected whence they came. They only observed
that M. de St. Cyran himself was destitute of those
comforts, and concluded that his having been
alone forgotten, was a judgment upon him for his
heresy. The beneficial influence, however, of M. de St.
Cyran was not bounded by the narrow Hmits of his
prison walls. From the gloom of his dungeon a
light arose, whose beams extended to the remotest
parts of France.
Schools were constantly established on the .plan
he had traced. He could, indeed, no longer per
sonally inspect them ; yet, through the medium of
correspondence, they were still carried on under his
auspices. A constant epistolary communication on reli
gious subjects was also maintained between him

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 57
and his friends. The unreserved dcA^otion and
enlightened piety that breathed in every line of his
letters, added to their love and veneration. The
profound learning which furnished his ideas ; the
luminous perspicuity with which they were ar
ranged ; and the animated eloquence with Avhich
they Avere expressed, filled them with admiration.
Of his exhortations it might be truly said, in the
language of Solomon, that they were as apples
of gold, made visible through a net- work of
silver. M. de St. Cyran's letters were handed about
amongst his disciples as sacred treasures. Every
line of his writing they honoured with the sanctity
of a relic ; whilst it also united with it the charm
and zest of novelty. They viewed each with a
tender reverence, considering it as perhaps the
last gift of a friend who will be seen no more.
Each letter, at the same time, possessed the
advantage of being adapted to the exigency of
the moment, and of being the advice of a friend,
Avho, though not visible, was yet at hand. The
number of M. de St. Cyran's disciples increased,
Avhilst at Vincennes, with accelerated progression.
Some of them were afterwards eminent as the
champions of Jansenism. Of this number was
the great Arnauld. Few, however, comparatively
speaking, engaged in controversy. Most of them
purposely avoided any conversation on the con
tested points.
All meanwhile were distinguished for righteous
ness of Hfe, and sanctity of manners. Their de-
VoL. I. 8

58 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
votion was eminent, their patience under persecu
tion invincible. The charity of some amongst
them so profuse, as to heal whole provinces of the
Avounds and desolations of a bloody civil war. As
a body they eminently shone forth as bright and
burning lights, in the midst of a crooked and per
verse generation.
Nor were these things doubtful, nor could their
genuine fruits of piety be called in question by their
A^ery enemies. These good works were not wrought
in a corner. His disciples were not confined to the
seclusion of Port Royal. This monastery was,
indeed, in constant correspondence with M. de St.
Cyran. It was also through the medium of Port
Royal, that his influence was chiefly diffused. Still,
though beginning at that abbey, it extended itself
throughout all France.
Persons of the first rank, and filling the highest
political situations ; persons not only at the foot of
the throne, but on the throne itself, gloried in fol-
loA\'ing him, even as he followed Christ.
The imprisonment of M. de St. Cyran had long
occasioned great indignation amongst well disposed
persons. John de Wert, the General of the Spanish army,
happened to be a prisoner of Avar on parole during
the detention of M. de St. Cyran. Whilst he
staid at Paris, the Cardinal de Richelieu gave a
superb ballet, to which he invited this Spanish
nobleman ; and every expense Avas lavished upon
the decorations, which could contribute to give
the foreigner a high idea of French magnificence.

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN.

59

The Cardinal retained his noble guest next to him,
during the whole of the performance, which he be
held in perfect silence ; at which M. de Richelieu,
not a little chagrined, asked him, " What he consid
ered as the most marvellous spectacle he had ever
seen ?" John de Wert immediately replied, " That
of all the wonders he had ever seen, none had so
much astonished him, as to see, in the dominions
of his very Christian Majesty, bishops amusing
themselves at theatres, whilst saints languished in
prisons." M. de St. Cyran endured five years' imprisonment.
At length, Cardinal Richelieu expired. On the 4th
of December, 1642, this minister, from the plenitude
of despotic power on earth, was cited to appear be
fore his final Judge in Heaven. He died aged fifty-
eight. The friends of M. de Hauranne observed,
that the day on which he departed was that of the
festival of St. Cyran.
This event was soon succeeded by M. de St.
Cyran's release. He never recovered his health.
He had often deprived himself of both fire and
clothing to relieve his fellow prisoners. His con
stitution was broken by the hardships he had un
dergone. He survived his enlargement only a few
months. M. de St. Cyran quitted Vincennes on Fridaj',
the 6th of February, 1643, during the week of
the Purification. This M. de St. Cyran often
mentioned with pleasure. He was willing to
consider it as a sign that he had been heard in
the prayer which he continually offered up.

60 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
that he might not be released from prison till
this affliction had wrought its perfect work in the
purification of his soul. His friend M. d'Andilly,
came in his carriage to take him from Vuicennes.
No captive had ever received such demonstrations
of esteem. His guards and fellow-prisoners threw
themselves at his feet, to implore his parting
benediction, and they mingled tears of joy at his
release, with those of sorrow for his departure. —
His guards especially mourned his loss; and all
the garrison wishing to show their respect, spon
taneously arranged themselves in two rows to let
him walk out, to the sound of fifes and drums,
and discharges of musketry. It was afterwards
found that several of the prisoners, won by his
piety, had taken notes of many of his actions and
sayings, from which they had derived peculiar
edification. On this occasion, M. Lancelot makes
the folloAving observations : " We often Avished
that M. de St. Cyran could have had a person
continually with him to note down all his ac
tions, and to portray all his holy discourses, his
eminent virtues, and even the eloquence of his
silence, which has so often spoken to our hearts.
God, however, no doubt for wise purposes, has
not permitted it." Perhaps, indeed, it might not
be so easily done. The most eminent graces, like
the deepest rivers, generally pursue a silent course.
They possess, in degree, the peace and immuta
bility of their divine Author. It is immediately
felt in its effects, though it cannot be described
in its source. It is that powerful and constant

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 61
effusion of the Spirit of God, which transforms the
heart of the ncAV man, and continually abides
therein ; Avhich does not dazzle by brilliant and
remarkable actions, so much as it imparts a living
unction and a godlike dignity to the most common
ones. It produces throughout the whole soul,
mind, and heart, a certain simpUcity, profound
peace, gentle love, and immutable calmness, that
charms and elevates the heart of the observer,
though he scarcely knows why. He is filled Avith
awful reverence in contemplating the whole,
whilst he is yet unable to discover any thing
extraordinary in each part. As to its effects, the
perfection of saints on earth is, perhaps, more
perceptible in what they do not, than in what
they actually do.
So far as it may be said of man in his fallen
state, it consists in a perfect silence of all human
passions, and in a total extinction of every move
ment of earthly pleasures and desires. The silence
of the man of God differs from the tumult of the
world, as the still expanse of the ocean differs from,
and yet exceeds in sublimity, a roaring summer
torrent, which lays waste all in its way, and dis
appears for ever. It consists in that spotless
holiness which is best comprehended when we
contrast with it our own disorder and impurity.
It is a participation on earth of the happiness of
the blessed in heaven. It is the beginning of that
ineffable union with God, which, though begun
on earth, can only be consummated in heaven.
Happy, indeed, are those to AA'hom it has pleased

02 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
the Lord to exhibit such models of virtue. " Yea,
rather more blessed are those, that hearing, keep
their sayings !"
A few months after his release, M. de St. Cyran
Avas seized with apoplexy. He was at the same
time reduced by the effects of a surgical operation.
Owing to the unskilfulness of some of his atten
dants, his sufferings were extreme. Yet no un
kind reflection escaped his lips. " What the Lord
has permitted, we must receive with the same sub
mission," observed he, " as what he has appointed ;
blessed be the name of the Lord," In the inter
vals, between the lethargy and high delirium,
from which he alternately suffered, he spoke much
to the edification and comfort of the few friends
whom the sudden nature of his illness had per
mitted to be sent for. After a few hours' illness,
he expired in perfect peace, in the arms of his
assistant and friend, M. Singhn. He died on the
11th of October, 1643. He was aged sixty-two.*
* His disciples thus portray his character. It appears colored
by the warmth of Christian love, and yet painted with the most
exact Christian truth. It is inserted, notwithstanding its length,
on account of the useful instruction it conveys. " M. de St.
Cyran was a saint indeed. It had pleased God to bestow upon
him a rich assemblage of those qualities which are generally met
with separately. Though called to the sacred functions of the
priesthood by men, he was yet sanctified for it by a large measure
of the Holy Spirit of God; and he appeared truly fitted to the
rank of those chosen servants, whom the Lord himself has called
out to be as lights to the world. Of him it might eminently be
said, that he ofiered no false fire upon the altar. His light in
deed, shone before men with a clear and steady brightness illu
minating and diffusing a vital heat in the church of God. But

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. Oo
By his followers, M. de St. Cyran was rever
enced as a saint. Numbers of persons crowded to
see his corpse, and to preserve some of his
the flame was kindled from heaven, and its brilliancy arose from
the fervour of his love, even more than from the superiority of his
understanding. ' Unde ardet unde lucet.' He drew every sen
timent and every principle from the inexhaustible and rich mine
of Scripture. Nor did he merely hear much, and read much of
Scripture, but, above all, he prayed much, and meditated much
over it. Diligently comparing Scripture with Scripture, his mind
became enlightened with divine truth ; and meditating and pray
ing over every part, his heart became kindled with divine love.
He studied each passage till he clearly understood its sense ; he
dwelt upon each till he was thoroughly penetrated by its force ;
he thought that he but half knew what he only knew with his
understanding ; and he therefore studied as every Christian ought
to do ; that is, both with the head and with the heart ; letting
light and heat increase with an equal progression, and mutually
assist each other. Christianity is, in an eminent manner, the
science of the heart ; and he who does not receive it into his
heart, studies it to very little purpose. And, whereas, in all other
studies, informing the understanding is the principal, in Chris
tianity it only forms the subordinate part. Nor is the science of
the head of any other use, but as it enables men to distinguish
the workings of their own imaginations from the genuine oper
ation of the Spirit of God. Hence he not only studied, but
sought to nourish his soul with Scripture ; knowing that it is said
of Christ's words, that they are spirit and they are the life ; and
that, till they are experienced to be so, the soul remains dead in
trespasses and sins. Nor did he rest in the letter of Scripture.
He knew that the reason why they are to be searched, is be
cause they are they which testify of Christ ; and he knew that
the Spirit of God can alone take of the things of Christ, and
show them unto us ; for no man can, in truth, call Christ, Lord,
but by the Holy Spirit. Hence, from reading of Christ, he went
to Christ ; and, from being with Christ, he went forth amongst
men for Christ. He knew one thing was needful, even to know

64 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
relics. The peace of God, says Lancelot, was
sensibly felt in the chamber of death, and the
majesty of glorified immortality seemed to rest in
the only true God and Jesus Christ whom he hath sent. He
therefore sought him in faith, and with his whole heart, and seek
ing him, found him. He knew that it was by looking to him only,
that the ends of the earth can be saved ; he therefore looked at
Him continually who was the author, and whom he knew must
be the finisher, of his faith ; and he considered Him continually,
who set us an example that we should tread in his steps. Thus
he sought wisdom, and GoD gave it him. He sought it at first
with prayers and tears, and renewed supplication, when he sought
it to save his soul ; and when he had found peace with GoD, ho
pursued it with equal earnestness, though with renewed confi
dence, that he might, by a further increase, abundantly glorify
that God whose mercies he had experienced. He was far from
the awful delusion of those selfish professors, who seek the salva
tion of their own souls independently of a disinterested love of
God. Hence he did not rest in a half conversion. The love of
God was truly shed abroad in his heart ; Christ really dwelt in
his heart by faith ; and if he enlightened the church, it was chiefly
owing to the singleness of his eye that his mind was so full of
light. One thing he had desired of the Lord, that he might
dwell in the house of the Lord for ever, and his divine Master
gave to him three things ; he blessed him with abundant faith,
and abundant hope ; but, above all, with superabundant love.
He waited on thee, 0 Lord, in the sanctuary of his heart, and
thou taughtest him unutterable things. He communed with thee
in secret, and thy power went forth with him, and thy glory
visibly rested upon him. His sound went forth throughout the
land, so that the deaf heard ; and thy life manifested in his life,
has, in many instances, awaked the dead in trespasses and sins ;
and the voice of thy Spirit speaking through him, has bid them
live to life eternal. His fruits declared the root whence they
sprung. But the multitude of those he was instrumental in con
verting, were his chief glory. A few, indeed, of these have been
known by writings, whose fame will long endure as public bene-

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 65
awful solemnity on the mortal remains. The con
course was so great, that it became necessary to
lock up his room till the interment. The funeral
factors, not only to their own age, but to the world ; many more,
unheard of by men, walk before God, content in spreading a
sweet odour in the humble walks of private life. Thus has God
blessed this eminently favoured servant with the privacy he
sought ; till, at the great and awful day, when every secret of
the heart shall be unveiled, they shall start from the long slum
ber of the tomb, and decorate with jewels the rich crown which
the righteous Judge shall then give him.
This man of GoD entertained an exalted view of the greatness
and holiness of the Christian profession. How unspeakably high,
would he say, must be that holiness, of which God himself made
man set us the example. How diligent should be our exertions,
when the light of God is given to point our way ; the strength of
God to hold our feet in life. How exalted should be the standard
of those men, who expect the God of purity and holiness itself to
judge them. And how confident and sure a trust should they
maintain, when GoD himself, their judge, has suffered, to purchase
their immortal felicity, and to find place for exercising mercy con
sistently with justice. Surely if the love of compassion drew
down God himself from heaven to earth; gratitude, for so un
speakable a mercy, should lead men from earthly desires, to dwell
in heaven in their spirits. As the apostle Paul was, whilst he
dwelt on earth, present with Christ in spirit, though absent in
body, so M. de St. Cyran was perpetually anxious that his disci
ples should not merely be professing Christians, but that their con
versation should really be in heaven, and that their whole heart
and mind should be thoroughly cast in the gospel mould. He
dreaded the curse of Bzekiel against those false prophets who
build with untempered mortar, and thus raise a wall without
strength, which falls at the first storm.
As M. de St. Cyran received the Scriptures from his heart, so
he accepted them as they are, without any foreign mixture or
comment of his own. Before he began to build, he had counted
the cost ; and when he weighed the price, it was in the balance
Vol. I. ¦ 9

66 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
was attended by an unusually numerous assem
blage of the most distinguished and eminent per
sonages. Almost every dignitary of the church
of the sanctuary. Hence he never sought an easy road to heaven ;
for he knew that there is no such thing. He recommended to
others the road that he himself walked in, viz : the straight road
mentioned in Scripture as the highway of the kingdom. He
knew that Christ set us an example, that we should tread in his
steps, and he therefore looked to Christ, and to none else. He
knew that Christ pleased not himself, nor did he expect that the
servant could find an easier path, than his master. He had no new
light, whereby to accommodate the world with Christ ; he had
no new and ingenious contrivances to save men, without obliging
them to take up their cross, their daily cross, inward as well as
outward, and to follow their Saviour in the same narrow road
which he had trodden. He had discovered no new mode of wi
dening the narrow way ; of lightening the daily cross, or of recon-
dling together God and Mammon. In this modem science he was
p-ofoTindly ignorant. His systems were not traced on the muta
ble sand of human opinion ; but they were engraven on the im
mutable rock of God's word. He conducted souls to God only
by that royal highway of repentance evidenced by mortification,
and faith evidenced by obedience, which all the patriarchs, saints,
prophets, and martyrs had trodden before. Nor did he ever step
aside where he saw the print of their footsteps, though it were a
path rough with thorns, or even dyed in blood. Whilst most pro
fessors were labouring to mitigate the rule of Christ, he was
solely taken up in seeking that powerful help of the Holy Spirit,
which renews the strength of the fainting soul, like the eagle's ;
and enduing her with power from on high, shall, in truth, make
the most rigid practice easy. Whilst others strove to accommo
date the road to their strength, he, relying on God, sought from
him strength, adequate to the difficulties of the way.
Whilst M. de St. Cyran avoided the errors of softening down
Christianity to the low standard of general practice, he equally
avoided the subtle refinements of a false and mystic imagination,
which, soaring on wings of her own creating, rises into regions of

THE ABBE DE ST. CTRAN. 67
then in Paris was there. Nobles, men of letters,
and even princes of the blood, were present.
Amongst the vast concourse of his disciples at the
speculation and fancy, widely different from those which the word
of God marks out. He formed no system of ideal perfection,
aiming at being wise above what was written. But he rather
aimed, with superior fidelity, to transcribe into the heart the exact
representation which the word of God had drawn. He neither
softened the practice of Christianity to suit modem efieminacy of
life ; nor refined her system to coincide with the modern flights
of philosophy and imagination. His foundation of faith was
Christ; his foundation of practice the prophets and apostles.
His heart was curbed with rigid self-denial, as he steadily walked
on towards the mark of Christian, not angelic perfection. Deeply
sensible of the fallen state of the human heart, and of the con
tinual need of cleansing anew in the fountain opened for sin, his
heart, his life, his words, were clothed with humility ; and hence
he perpetually grew in the double love both of the Lord who had
bought him, and of his fellow men, for whom the like precious
price had been paid.
M. de St. Cyran's mode of conducting souls was solid and sub
stantial. He aimed as much to cure them of a merely superficial
devotion, as of sin. He was aware of the thorough corruption of
body, soul, and spirit ; and he endeavoured to subdue each by its
own weapons.
The body he conquered by a strict, but not rigorous discipline ;
the soul he convinced by grounding it in the truth ; the spirit he
well knew could only be renewed by faith.
He knew that religion consists in a change which GoD alone can
work in the heart; but he knew also, that where such a change
is really wrought, it will assuredly be visible in the life. Hence
he expected conviction to bear its proper fruit of confession,
repentance, and mortification, just as much as faith that of good
works. Hence his converts were generally solid. They were
like trees bearing their fruits in due season ; trees of righteousness,
the planting of the Lord. Hence their piety bore the traces of a
long and exercised humility, their fortitude of a firm faith, their

68 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
ceremony, were particularly observed his faithful
friend Lancelot, Madame de Rohan, princesse de
Guimenee, and Louisa of Gonzague, the intimate
self-denial of an heart-felt renunciation of the world, their good
works of a genuine love of God. Their religion was substantial ;
a piety not of phrase and gesture, but of heart and life. Hence
his converts show forth that it was in the school of Christ, and
not of men, that they had been taught. When, during the tem
pestuous reign of Louis XIV., sweeping hurricanes and lowering
tempests burst upon the Galilean church, and threatened the pro
fessing world with swift destruction, they generally stood as
towers, immutable amidst the wide desolation, being at once marks
for the vengeance of the adversary, and yet proving firm fortresses
of refuge for the shelter of weak but sincere brethren.
M. de Cyran patiently bore the reign of the proud. During a
season of violence and injustice, he preserved heart-felt peace and
humility. He prayed for his enemies ; and his prayer was un
feigned, because his heart, deeply christianized, in truth felt the
lightness of the evils they could inflict on him, and the unutterable
abyss of woe into which they were plunging themselves. There
fore his heart truly compassioned their deplorable case. The
captive, from the depth of his dungeon, shed tears which God
alone witnessed, over the awful case of his thoughtless oppressor ;
and his prayer, for the man who loaded him with chains, parted
from a pure heart and unfeigned lips. When the disciples were
commanded to forgive until seventy times seven, they said not,
increase our love, but increase our faith ; and our blessed Lord
approves their request, by telling them that faith can remove
mountains ; for it is by faith we realize the lightness of temporal
woes, and the weight of those eternal ones to which the wicked
are hastening.
Such was M. de Cyran, a man originally of like passions with
us ; but who, by contemplating the ineffable glories of GoD in
Jesus Christ, was gradually transformed into his image of
righteousness and true holiness. In a dark age, he was a light
to the church, for GoD gave him his light. In an age teeming
with error, he upheld the truth, because he was himself upheld

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 69
friend of the Reverend Mere Angelique, and after-
Avards Queen of Poland.
His body was interred in Paris, at the parochial
church of St. Jacques du Haut pas. His entrails
Avere deposited at Port Royal des Champs. An
appropriate epitaph Avas placed over each. At the
final destruction of Port Royal des Champs, the
urn containing his ashes was removed to St.
Jacques.* His heart he had some years before
bequeathed to his intimate friend, M. Arnauld
d'Andilly.
by God's truth. In a faithless age, he stood firm in the faith,
because he leaned on God's faithfulness. In an age of relaxation
lie was holy, because God vouchsafed to make him partaker of his
holiness. In an age when the church was rent by division, his
soul beamed with love, because the flame of God's love glowed in
his heart.
When I look at the reverend father of so many holy spiritual
children, whose shoe-latchets I am unworthy to loose, I could cast
myself at his feet in the dust ; but when I contemplate the great
and merciful Lord, who alone wrought all these wonders for his
servant, I must say, ' to him, and to him alone, be all the hon
our and glory, now and for ever.'
The Psalmist, after contemplating the beauties of the natural
creation, exclaims, ' 0 Lord, how manifold are thy works, in
wisdom hast thou made them all !' Yet surely to a Christian
eye the creation reflects as a shadow the glory of God; the
heart of his saints alone presents a lively image of it. For
whilst the one only shows forth his boundless power and his un
searchable wisdom, it belongs to the other, not only to display
these attributes in a yet more perfect manner ; but above all to
give some faint image of the unutterable sanctity of his holiness,
and riches of his love."
*His tombstone yet remains there, where I saw it in Sep
tember, 1814.

70 PRELIMINARY SK'^TCH.
M. de St. Cyran's private life proves him to
have been a most eminently pious man. The ex
tensive effects which he produced on his age, prove
him to have been a truly great one. It is, hoAv-
over, by those effects that this greatness is chiefly
perceptible to posterity. The talents in which
he supereminently excelled, were those rather cal
culated to obtain a powerful influence over his con
temporaries, than to secure a brilliant posthumous
fame. His distinguishing talents were spiritual direction
and conversation. In these he eminently excelled.
But the pecuhar characteristic of M. de St. Cyran,
Avas a firmness and strength of character by which
he not merely attracted the hearts, but gained a
most powerful ascendancy over the minds of all
Avith whom he conversed.
It has already been sufficiently observed that M.
de St. Cyran was a man of extensive theological
learning, and of profound research in ecclesiastical
antiquity. As a writer, he held a very respectable
rank. With such exalted piety and deep erudi
tion, he could scarcely do otherAvise. Neverthe
less, he possibly owes his literary reputation chiefly
to the unbounded affection and veneration of his
disciples. Perhaps M. de St. Cyran's works might have
ranked more highly, had they not been so com
pletely eclipsed by those of his followers. Most
readers recollect, that the Lettres Provinciales
became the standard of the French lansuase.
Their expectations of M. de St. Cyran's works

THE ABBE DE ST. CYRAN. 71
are formed from the writings of Pascal, Nicole, Ar
nauld, Racine, Saci, Tillemont, le Nain, St. Beuve,
Lancelot, d'Andilly, Hermant, St. Marthe, Du Fosse,
Fontaine, Quesnel, St. Amour, &c. Accustomed to
the splendor of these great lights of the Port Royal
school, and habituated to the classic elegance Avith
Avhich their erudition and piety is clothed ; the world
naturally, though perhaps unreasonably, expects to
meet these excellencies united in a transcendent
degree, in the writings of the man who formed such
disciples. Only one or two of M. de St. Cyran's works are
yet generally read. Those most likely to profit
persons who seek rather to grow in piety, than to
enter into the controversies of the times, are as fol
lows, "Lettres Spirituelles," reprinted at Lyons,
1679, in 3 vols. 12 mo. Another volume, contain
ing little tracts, has since been added. They are
chiefly brief explanations of Christian doctrine, and
thoughts on Christian poverty.
A pseudonymous publication in folio, under the
name of Petrus Aurelius, has been generally attri
buted to M. de St. Cyran. Others have considered
it as a joint production of himself and his nephew,
M. de Barcos. This work obtained in its day a high
reputation, and a very extensive celebrity.
The clergy of France published an edition, at their
OAATi expense, in 1642.
In the eye of the world, the greatest glory of M.
de St. Cyran is doubtless this : he was the founder
of the AA'ide celebrity of Port Royal, and he had both
the Arnaulds, the le Maitres, Nicole, and Pascal,

72 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
for his disciples. His greatest glory in the sight of
Christians is, that he was the blessed instrument
of gaining such an innumerable company (whose
names are, with his own, inscribed in heaven,) to
that experimental knowledge of the only true God,
and of Jesus Christ our Lord, which is life eternal.

Cornelius Jansenius, Bishop of Ypres, was a na
tive of the village of Acquoy, near Leerdam, a small
town in Holland. He was born on the 28th of Oc
tober, 1585 ; his father's name was John Otto. —
Both his parents Avere zealous Catholics. He first
studied at Utretcht, and afterwards at the university
of Louvain. He soon became 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 prevalent
amongst authors. He has been ever since known
by the name of Jansenius.
His constitution, naturally weak, suffered by un
remitting study. The physicians recommended a
tour through France. Jansenius went to Paris in
1604. There he formed a close intimacy with M.
du Vergier de Hauranne, afterwards the celebrated
Abbe de St. Cyran.
Both had studied at Louvain. Abelli and Ley-
decker describe them as contemporaries there ;
and Dupin represents them as studying theology
together, under Fromond. Dom Lancelot asserts

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 73
the contrary. He says that Jansenius, avIio was
four years younger than M. du Vergier, immedi
ately succeeded him at the University, and states
their personal acquaintance as having commenced
at Paris. However this may be, they soon became
closely united. They studied together Greek, He
brew, and Philosophy ; nor was it long before they
acquired a high reputation for their theological
learning. Jansenius still continued in ill health. His
friend proposed to him to quit Paris, and to be
come an inmate of his house at Bayonne. There
they remained together six years. M. de Hau
ranne Avas chosen canon of the cathedral, and
Jansenius was appointed head master of the
college, newly established in that city. Their
leisure hours Avere dedicated to the study of the
Fathers. On the works of St. Austin, thev
bestowed an especial degree of labor and at
tention. In the pages of this great luminary of
the Church, they soon either saw, or else fancied
they saw, those doctrines of inadmissible grace,
Avhich were the ground-work of their subsequent
system. They imagined themselves arranging
into one harmonious and well combined fabric,
sentiments scattered throughout the pages of the
A'enerable bishop of Hippo; whilst they were, in
fact, organizing that system, afterwards so dis
tinguished by the name of Jansenism. A system
Avhich, when published, was denounced to the
Church as heretical. Nor did it only stigmatize
the name of Jansenius, with the odious appellation
Vol. I. 10

74 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
of Heresiarch ; but it likewise subjected his friends
to a long series of cruel persecutions.
The studies of M. de St. Cyran and his friend
AA^ere indefatigable. Madame de Hauranne, who
kept her son's house, often interposed. "I am
really afraid, my dear son," she continually said,
''you will kill your good Fleming with so much
hard study."
At the expiration of six years, they returned to
Paris. They continued together a short time.
Jansenius afterwards, in 1617, returned to Louvain.
Two years afterwards he obtained a doctor's di
ploma. He was invested, also, with the direction
of the college of St. Pulcheria.* It was completed
under his inspection, and the regulations were insti
tuted by him. In the course of the years 1624 and
1625, he was twice deputed by the university to the
Spanish court. The object of this deputation was
to oppose the Jesuits. They had attempted to es
tablish professorships of their own at Louvain, which
should have a power of conferring degrees, valid in
the university. The college of Louvain succeeded
in repressing their encroachments. The Jesuits
never forgave Jansenius.
* This college is now appropriated to a school, which is regu
lated in a manner which does equal honor to the piety and infor
mation of its conductor, Madame Parideans. In the midst of the
large gardens of this excellent Institution, which overlook the
gardens of various monasteries, and whose views terminate at the
wooded walks on the ramparts of Louvain, 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 garden
er's tool and seed house.

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 75
About this period, the reputation of Jansenius
began to be diffused throughout Europe. He pub
lished several theological works. They were labo
rious, and discovered an uncommon depth both of
piety and learning. They were consequently highly
esteemed. One indeed of the works of Jansenius, entitled
" Mars GalUcus," gave a mortal offence to Cardinal
Richelieu. At the King of Spain's request, he had
drawn a parallel between the state of the Church
in 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 sus
pected, that Cardinal Richelieu wished to erect
France into a patriarch at, and to become himself
patriarch. Perhaps at no other juncture could it
have been so unwelcome.
Some have thought it was principally this circum
stance, which laid the foundation of that unrelent
ing animosity with which Cardinal Richelieu after
wards persecuted the Jansenists.
The reputation of Jansenius increased rapidly.
His learning had also obtained him the chancellor
ship of the university of Louvain. Bishoprics were
often designed for him, but the influence of the Je
suits always prevented their being bestowed. At
length his uncommon merit prevailed. His piety,
iiotAvithstanding 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, Avhen the influence of his superior merits

76 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
Avas felt. His piety, his humanity, his assiduity,
his seff-denial, and his learning, were topics of uni
versal observation. His erudition, indeed, had long
obtained celebrity, but men forgot to notice his
Christian virtues, till he was placed in a situation,
Avhere themselves became partakers in their benefi
cial influence.
The day he devoted to acts of charity, religious
instruction, and visitations of his diocese. The
night he dedicated, as he was used, to prayer and
study. Even whilst at Bayonne, he seldom went
to bed. A large old fashioned chair, fitted up
with cushions and a writing desk, was long ex
hibited at M. de St. Cyran's, as the study of Jan
senius. 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 abstemious
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 Avas a man of primitive
integrity, fervent faith, and a solid understanding.
His learning was not unworthy of comparison with
that of the doctors of the Christian Church ; and
his piety was worthy of a true successor of the
apostles. Yet the quality for which he Avas pecu
liarly distinguished, was Christian watchfulness

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 77
and circumspection. His piety attained to its un
common 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 the
command, and became the father of the faithful,
and the friend of God. Owing to a contemplation
of this passage, both M. de St. Cyran and Janse
nius were peculiarly attentive, at all times, to
entertain a sense of the divine presence, and to
walk as before God. The immense plenitude of
spiritual riches, which afterwards distinguished
these great men, was almost entirely accumulated
by a constant watchfulness over their own
spirits, and self-denial in what are termed little
things. The charities of Jansenius were extensiA^e, but
discriminating. His measure and mode of assist
ing his flock, united an episcopal munificence
Avith Christian humility, simplicity, and love.
He never seemed fatigued Avith serving the
poor. Jansenius was no sooner elevated to the see of
Ypres, than he occupied himself in tracing a plan,
for effecting a permanent reformation in his dio-

78 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
cese. His scheme was said to have been as
luminous, as his end was pious and benevolent.
His beneficial projects were never executed. A
raging plague broke out in Flanders. It more
particularly desolated the neighbourhood of
Ypres. The inhabitants, seized with consterna
tion, fled in every direction. Motives, neither of
humanity or lucre, could induce them to assist
those afflicted with the distemper.
In the midst of this fiery trial, the faith of Jan
senius 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 where he appeared, as a guardian
angel amidst the sick and dying.
Their most loathsome wounds he dressed with
his own hands. The most infected abodes of
wretchedness he entered in person, bringing food
and medicines, when all others refused the task.
Wretches, abandoned by all, plundered and strip
ped of every thing, lying in the agonies of death,
found in the bishop of Ypres the most tender
friend and compassionate benefactor. 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 the good bishop 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 intercession and of
prayer.

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 79
The Lord, who remembers even a cup of cold
water bestowed in his name, beheld the labours of
his faithful servant. His loving kindness honored
Avith a martyr's crown him who had performed a
martyr's work.
Jansenius was suddenly struck with the conta
gion. The Lord, whom he served, saw he was pre
pared. He does not causelessly grieve the children
of men, nor willingly afflict with needless sufferings.
A few hours sufficed this highly favoured servant
to leave a glorious testimony behind. Then the
Lord was pleased immediately to remove him from
persecutions on earth, to an incorruptible and unde-
filed inheritance among his saints in heaven. He
died on the 6th of May, 1638. He was buried in
the cathedral church of Ypres. His tomb was
placed in the centre of the choir. A monument
was erected over his remains, on which was in
scribed an epitaph, which, on account of its singular
beauty, is here inserted.
D. 0. M.
CORNELIUS JANSENIUS HIC SITUS EST.
Satis dixi
Virtus eruditio fama csetera loquentur
Lovanii diu admirationi fuit
Hie* incepit tantum
Ad episcopate fastigium evectus
Ut Belgio ostenderetur
Utfalgur luxit et statim Extinctus est
Sic humana omnia
etiam brevia cum longa sunt !
* Tpres.

80 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
Funera tamen suo superstes
Tivet 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
Pridie nonas Mail setatis anno nondum 53
Ypris in episcopate Palatio.

The general meaning of this beautiful epitaph
might be thus rendered. The following 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 here only began to be so
Raised to the episcopal dignity
That he might astonish Flanders
As lightning lie shone and was Extinct
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 pious and arduous undertaking

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 81
he dedicated
Affections most spiritual Researches most laborious
and the whole of a life most precious
He effected his work and with its completion expired
The church reaps the fruits of his labour on Earth
Whilst lie enjoys their /uS reward in Heaven.
Reader so live !
Render thanksgiving and pour out thy soul in prayer.
He died of the pestilence
Anno 1638 on the 6th of May
in the 53rd year of his age
In the episcopal palace at Ypres.

Jansenius was scarcely dead when it was an
nounced to the public, that he had completed his
Augustinus. A report, too, was circulated, that it
was preparing for publication. 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 author, had raised men's ex
pectations 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 knoAvn in France. Their holy lives and
deep devotion were indeed more ostensible than the
peculiarities of their dogmas. Nevertheless, suffi
cient was known of the latter to inspire the Jesuits
Avith a hope of being able to affix some imputation
of heresy on the work of Jansenius.
The Bishop of Ypres had, hoAvever, taken pre
cautions, which ought to have effectually disarmed
the malice of his enemies. Whilst he had always.
Vol. I. 11

82 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
with the most undaunted boldness, defended the
Christian faith, it soon appeared that he felt the
most profound humility respecting his own exposi
tion of contested dogmas.
The work of Jansenius was entitled, Augustinus
Cornelii Jansenii episcopi, seu doctrina sancti Augvs-
tini de humance naturce sanctitate CBgritudince, medica
adversus' Pelagianos et Massilienses, Louvain, 1640 ;
aivi at Rome, 1652 in fol.
This work is diAdded into three parts. In the
first, the learned author presented a luminous and
very detailed exposition of the errors of the Pela
gians and Semi-pelagians. In this part of it, he
frequently attacked Molina, Lessius, and all the
theologians of the day, who came under the
'description 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 para
dise. Everything which St. Augustine 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 «-race

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 83
of the Saviour shall arise to give them light ; and
till He, who is the resurrection and the life, shall
call them from a state of spiritual death, and com
mand their bonds to be loosed. He then enters at
large into the various arguments, by which many
excellent men have been led to think that grace
irresistible and inamissible.
In the third part of this elaborate work, Janse
nius 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 through
out 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 con
junction with M. de St. Cyran, at Bayonne. Its
completion occupied the venerable 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 compared
those parts of them relating to the Pelagian contro
versy. In addition to this immense labor, Jansenius had
also thoroughly studied, and accurately collated
every passage, throughout the voluminous works of
the Fathers, which has any connexion with the doc
trines in question. When we consider that Janse
nius digested and arranged, in twenty years, the
whole mass of sacred literature accumulated in thir
teen centuries, it excites astonishment, that so short

84 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
a period could have sufficed to the execution of such
a performance. To this grand undertaking his life had been de
voted : he lived to finish it. This great work, so
long meditated, so deeply studied, so assiduously re
vised; 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 would give rise.
His very last act manifested 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
Urban VIIL, submitting his unpublished work to
his inspection. In this letter he gave up the
whole manuscript to the decision of the Romish
See, and authorized 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 various modes in
which his writings have been interpreted, prove at
once the difficulty of the exposition, and the in
competence of the expositors. Whether I have
been more fortunate, whether I speak according
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
light, before which the illusive glare of false
splendor disappears; to that Divine touch-stone.

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 85
at whose touch everything is ground to powder
Avhich possesses not the solidity of truth. — I there
fore now lay my work at the feet of your holiness.
I submit its contents implicitly to your decision,
approving, condemning, advancing, or retracting,
Avhatever 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,
hoAvever, disagree as to the propriety of such an
one having been chosen by Jansenius, a Catholic
bishop. Whatever conclusion he formed of the
measure itself, there are surely none who name
the name of Christ, but what must venerate the
truly Christian humility 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 in
fluence the work should be suppressed altogether.
HoAvever this may be, the existence of such a
letter was never suspected, till the reduction of
Ypres 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 precaution. Just
before his death he made a will. By this instru
ment he unreservedly abandoned both himself
and his book to the judgment and authority of
the See of Rome. The following are his very
words. He dictated them half an hour before his
death :

86 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
" Sentio aliquid diffijculter mutari. Si tamen Bo-
mana sedes aliquid mutari velit; sum obediens filius ;
et illius ecclesice in qua semper vixi usque ad hun
lectum mortis oliediens sum. Jta postrema voluntas
mea est. Actum sextd Maii, 1638." That is, " 1
feel that it Avill be difficult to alter anything.
Yet, if the Romish See should wish anything 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 obedient. This is my
last will. Done 6th of May, 1638."
Such were the sentiments entertained by Janse
nius to the end of his life. It is not a little
surprising to find him erected into an heresiarch
immediately after his death.
Scarcely had Jansenius expired, when his exe
cutors 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 circu
lated 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 regretting the ardor of zeal Avith which
the Jansenists Avere animated, in defending an

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 87
obscure, and merely speculative doctrine? It
might be observed, that good men are never
likely to espouse a cause, which has not some im
portant truth for its groundwork ; but, on the other
hand, that they are never so likely to exaggerate
it, to misapply it, and to overlook the antagonist
truths, which keep it in its due sphere of action,
as when they are defending it against an opponent
Avho is engaged in its OA^erthrow. If this be the
case, it may, perhaps, be thought that Jansenius
Avould have done more wisely, had his system been
founded on the work of St. Austin, previous to his
discussions with Pelagius, and had he received
Avith a prudent caution what that great saint wrote
under the heated influence of a warm and animated
controversy.. 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 holding distinct truths exclu
sively; and by thus placing in opposition those
truths they should hold in combination. Thus has
it been with the grand principles of Divine grace,
Avhich honors God, our Sovereign benefactor;
and of free will, which glorifies 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 world has continually
been vibrating between the alternate extremes of
antinomian fatalism, and pharisaic self-righteous
ness. And whilst each party has reaped the
benefit of the truth it held, each has suffered from

88 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
the equally important one it unadvisedly rejected.
From the times of the Pharisees and Sadducees,
the Pelagians and Augustinians, the Jesuits and
Jansenists, to the Arminians and Calvinists of the
present day, the evils of such discussions have
been sufficiently manifest. Whilst the true Chris
tian deplores the mischief these controversies have
occasioned to the speculative controvertists on
either side, he rejoices to see the most emi
nently 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 saying, with St. Austin in his epistles, " Si
non est gratia Dei, quomodo salvat mundum ? Si non
est liherum arhitrium, quomodo judical mundum?"
" If there be not (sovereign) free grace, how does
God (graciously) save the world ? If there be not
(unrestricted) free will, how can God (righteously)
judge the world ?"
When points terminating in speculation diAade
Christians, the Church may well mourn. To all
such controversies are dangerous. On merely
carnal professors, they operate as a blind, veiling
from their own mind the real motives which in
duce them to attack their more spiritual brethren.
Whilst the mind is occupied in combating
speculative opinions of good men, the heai't
Avhich instigated the attack, is often set on by
a lurking enmity against the piety connected
Avith them. The corruption of the carnal

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 89
heart is really kindled against Divine truth. —
Its bloAvs are, in reality, aimed against her,
Avhilst it screens itself under the specious pre
tence of attacking the extraneous opinions
casually connected with her. The word of
God itself cannot be broken. It is only when
good men unwarily connect their OAvn speculations
Avith revealed truth, that they present a point vul
nerable to the attacks of their adversaries. Nor
is controversy perhaps less dangerous to the truly
pious. With them it is but too apt to prove a
snare. They forget the comparative importance
of primary truths, whilst their strength is expended
in maintaining opinions, alike doubtful and unim
portant. It is lamentable to employ the arms
Avith 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-essential points, proved the
breach of the Church, and the strong hold of infi
delity !
Two years after it was first announced, the AA'ork
of Jansenius made its appearance. War was imme
diately re-kindled by the Jesuits, with redoubled
animosity. Multitudes of publications appeared
against the Augustinus. Had they stopped there,
it had been well.
Some amongst the Jesuits were not content
Avith attacking the reputation of Jansenius, and
Avith traducing as an heresiarch, a man who had
lived the life of a saint, and Avho had died, not
Vol. I. 12

90 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
only in communion with the Church, but exer
cising the sacred functions of a bishop. Their ran
corous malice even pursued his remains beyond the
grave. About midnight, on the 10th of December,
1657, the inscription over the grave of Jansenius
Avas surreptitiously removed, and the tomb itself
so completely demolished, that not a vestige
remained. Next morning the chapter of Ypres
discovered 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, written on
a plain white marble slab, was placed where the
monument had stood. This latter inscription
consisted merely of the tAvo first hues of the
former one, with the age and date. Yet, although
it conveyed 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 Avas reA'ealed
to the world, which had ncA^er, till then, been
suspected. It was announced, in the Histoire du
Baianisme, p. 344, published by Father du Chesne.

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 91
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 sepul
chre of Jansenius. His arms, indeed, on one of
the pillars of the church, still record his burial to
haA^e been within its precincts.
Notwithstanding the efforts of the Jesuits, the
Avork 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 Jan
senius. 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 of the Jesuits, and much
had been endured on that of the Jansenists.
At length. Father Comet, a Jesuit, and syndic
of the faculty, produced five propositions. They
were, it was insinuated, extracted from the work
of Jansenius. These propositions were worded
Avith the most artful ambiguity. The phrases
were so contrived, as to be capable of two con
structions, widely differing from each other.
Taken in one point of view, the terms employed
had a considerable resemblance to some used by
Jansenius. On the other hand, they were affixed
to such different ideas, and applied so differently,

92 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
that the meaning obviously conveyed was, in some
instances, absolutely Opposite to his. This paper,
so carefully worded, and maliciously constructed,
Avas laid before the Sorbonne, and before the
apostolic See, as containing dangerous, false, and
heretical doctrine.
It underwent a long and animated discussion.
At length the desired verdict was obtained. It
Avas pronounced heretical, first by the Sorbonne,
and afterwards by a bulle of Innocent X. A
general assembly of the French clergy was sum
moned. Almost all the dignitaries of the Galilean
church attended. With a very few exceptions,
they united in the proscription of the new heresy.
The Jesuits had now gained their point. It
Avas proposed and determined to draw up a
formula, recapitulating the five propositions, and
subjoining to them a declaration, that they were
heretical. A decree was then issued, command
ing the formulary to be signed by all who in
structed 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 impossible the
friends of M. de St. Cyran could avoid falling.
Should they sign the insidious formulary, it
would involve the condemnation of their oAvn
works, and consequently of themselves. If, on
the contrary, they refused their signatures, their
heresy would be manifest. They Avould incur the
most serious consequences, by setting at naught

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 93
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 expected signal to begin a vigorous perse
cution. In. this calculation they were disap
pointed. The Jansenists unanimously signed the
paper; each, at the same time, adding a line to
his signature, denying the 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, deterred from
their aim. A second application 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 16th of November, 1656, a
bulle was fulminated by Alexander VII. confirm
ing that of Innocent. It likewise proceeded to
declare, that the propositions were not only
heretical, but that they were likewise extracted
from Jansenius. It concluded by expressly de
claring, that the sense in which they were con
demned, was the one in which they were stated in
his Augustinus.
This bulle was no sooner published, than the
bishops, under the influence of the Jesuits, dreAv
up a second formulary. The words were express.
It was calculated, they thought, to afford no means
of escape. It was conceived in the folloAving
terms : " I condemn from my inmost soul, and by
word of mouth, the doctrine of the five proposi
tions, Avhich are contained in the work of Cornelius

94 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
Jansenius. A doctrine Avhicli is not that of St.
Augustin, whose sentiments Jansenius has mis
interpreted." Such was the celebrated formulary, dictated by
the malice, and extorted by the intrigue of the
Jesuits. It proved the signal of all the persecu
tions 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 divine authority of
the apostolic See, on subjects of faith, yet allows
her only a human judgment as to matters of fact.
The Scripture, which cannot be broken, promises
that divine influence of the Holy Spirit, which
enables the church infalhbly to distinguish 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 ; and
therefore belong to the province of reason, not
of revelation. The heresy of the propositions was,
they admitted, an object of faith ; their having
been advanced by Jansenius, 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
paramount authority of the apostolic See. With
regard to the alleged fact, that such propositions
Avere actually contained in the work of Jansenius,
they could not but consider it as coming solely
under the cognizance of individual judgment.

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 95
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. Excommuni
cations, fines, cruel banishments, and rigorous impri
sonments, were everywhere inflicted. The state
prisons became thronged. The threats of fire and
of poison were not withheld. The Bastille was
crowded with victims. Even recesses in the pas
sages were converted into temporary cells.
Many of the peaceful inhabitants of Port Royal
were torn from their beloved seclusion. The re
cluses underwent cruel sufferings in the Bastille ;
and a number of the nuns were separately impri
soned in different convents. There they were con
fined in narrow cells, and closely guarded. They
were not only deprived of the necessary comforts of
life, but were otherwise treated with disgraceful in
humanity. The nuns, to Avhom they were commit
ted were misguided 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 them
selves. They forgot their religious characters, and
commenced ruthless jailors. They persecuted
the children of the Most High, and they deluded
themselves into the idea, that they were doing God
service.

96 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
A bhort respite was at length obtained. In this
pacification, Madame de Longueville took the
most distinguished part. This princess was pos
sessed 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 arch
bishop of Sens, and the bishop of Chalons, and
some others drew up a plan for an accommodation.
The duchess of Longueville wrote on the occasion
a long letter to the Pope. Clement IX. who had
just ascended the chair of St. Peter, was a man of
a benevolent and pacific spirit. He had long de
plored the agitated state of the GalUcan Church.
In this disposition, he rejoiced that an opportunity
was offered to effect a reconciliation, vrithout com
promising the authority of the papal jurisdiction.
A pacification was effected. The prison doors
Avere opened, and the ecclesiastical censures were
removed ; and those valuable persons, who so emi
nently belonged to the Church of God, had rest for
a season. The peace, however, was not of long duration.
Madame de Longueville died. A month after her
decease, the persecution began with redoubled vio
lence. The short suspension of eleven years, ap
peared only to have embittered the adversaries of
Jansenius, without curtailing their power.
Persecuted on all hands, some perished in prison,
others died in banishment.
The great Arnauld, who had refused a Cardinal's

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 97
hat, died an exile, in a remote part of Flanders,
without one servant to attend him. Some wan
dered about in disguise; others expired, worn
out Avith fatigue and anxiety, praying for their
afflicted brethren, and their still more unhappy per
secutors. Port Royal was the fountain whence Jansenism
had spread over France. That monastery felt the
heaviest shock of the storm. For one century and
two years, it stood in the midst of its enemies ;
and its bright light shone with undiminished
lustre. It gave a splendid and rare example of
profound learning united vrith every Christian
A^irtue. The ear that heard its instruction, blessed
it ; and the eye that saw its inhabitants, bore wit
ness to them. It shone as a great light in the
land, and its good works turned the hearts of men
to glorify their Father in heaven. Its fame spread
over the land, and its good report went forth
abroad. Its blessed influence extended to the
remotest parts of Europe. Several generations of
its peaceful and pious inhabitants had, indeed,
perished amidst persecution ; but others still arose,
endued with a double portion of their spirit. —
At length, the measure of their sufferings was
complete ; these hving stones so carefully fashioned
by reiterated strokes, became fitted for the temple
of the Uving God. They were ready to occupy
that place in the Church triumphant, they had so
long and so faithfully maintained in the Church
militant.
Vol. I. 13

98 preliminary sketch.
Their adversaries were, at length, in Avrath al
lowed to triumph. They were permitted at once
to finish their sufferings, and to complete the mea
sure of their own iniquity. In October, 1709, Port
Royal was destroyed. Its venerable abbey was lev
elled to the ground, and its innocent inhabitants
were imprisoned for life, in separate monasteries.
Few of them long surAdved their dispersion. Their
removal was attended with circumstances of pecuhar
cruelty, and they soon expired, from the hardships
of their journey, and the ill usage experienced in
their prisons.
The site where Port Royal had stood was
ploughed up from its very foundation, so that not
one stone remained upon another. Yet though
the great and powerful were leagued together, to
extinguish that burning and shining light, of whose
illumination they were not worthy; yet its me
mory was still held in benediction. The peasants
were accustomed to visit its ruins, and even the
very children endeavored to pick up some frag
ment of its sacred remains. The poor, as they
returned from their labor, frequently turned out of
their path, to visit the valley where Port Royal
stood. They traced its lakes, and its gardens ; they
pointed •out to each other the places where they
had seen its saints, and, in the warmth of their
affectionate gratitude, they recounted the beneficent
miracles they imagined its hallowed ruins had
wrought. The profound veneration expressed by
the inhabitants for Port Royal rekindled the mahce
of its enemies. The ashes of the saints Ayho re-

CORNELIUSJANSENIUS. 99
posed there, were torn from their graves, and scat
tered by sacrilegious hands. Five years after not
a vestige remained of an institution, whose well-
earned and extensive celebrity was only to be ex
ceeded by the profound veneration and fervent
admiration of those intimately acquainted with its
rare endoAvments.
Whilst the benevolent shed a tear over the un
timely fate of Port Royal, the earnest seeker after
truth will be tempted to make the important in
quiry : What was the ground and root from which
this rare assemblage of Adrtues sprung ? The faith
ful historian of Port Royal can only anticipate the
reply of the Christian, The genuine fruits of faith
can only spring from the genuine root of faith.
And the works of the Spirit can only be wrought
by the operation of the Spirit of God. The piety
of the Port Royalists arose from the same immuta
ble source, from which all true religion ever has
flowed, and from which, alone, the word of God as
sures us it ever can flow, however various the de
nominations by which its faithful followers may
have been successively distinguished amongst their
fellow men.
It was grounded on a supreme reverence for the
word of God, and a daily and diligent study of
its contents ; a deep practical conviction of the
utter aberration of the human heart from God;
of its entire helplessness, and its insufficiency by
nature for any one good thing ; a firm confidence
in the atoning blood and merits of Christ, for

100 preliminary sketch.
pardon and reconciliation with God; bearing the
fruits of unreserved obedience to his Spirit, shed
abroad in the heart. In short, an entire renun
ciation of self, and an entire trust in Christ, for all
that must be done for us by his merits, and in us
by his Spirit.
The destruction of Port Royal des Champs may
be considered as the death bloAV to Jansenism. —
Many Jansenists indeed still continued in Flanders.
And the subject was agitated for some years subse
quent to this event. The expiration of Jansenism,
as a matter engrossing public attention, may be
dated about the time of Father Quesnel's death.
He succeeded the great Arnauld as the champion
of Jansenism, and may be considered as the last of
that brilliant constellation, whose genius and piety
had shed so splendid and beneficent a hght over the
end of the seventeenth, and beginning of the eigh
teenth century.
The principal leaders of the Jansenistic cause
succeeded each other as follows :
The death of Jansenius took place in . . 1638
M. du Vergier de Hauranne, Abbe de St.
Cyran, died in  1643
The great Arnauld then took the lead, accompa
nied by his friend and assistant Nicole, whose
- ,, , f Arnauld  1684
deaths occurred ^ ,t- i .,^^,
(Nicole  *1694
* The Jansenists stiU prevail much in Holland. They are
still distinguished by their love of Biblical studies. On visiting

CORNELIUS JANSENIUS. 101
The great Arnauld was succeeded by his intimate
friend. Father Quesnel, who vigorously maintained
the cause by his writings, and, at the court of
Rome by delegate, till he expired at Amsterdam, in
1719. The above mentioned are some of the chief con-
troA^ersial writers, who maintained the cause of the
Jansenists. Their most valuable authors are, per
haps, those who have entered but little into the dis
puted points. Those who have contributed to im
prove the world by their learning, or who have
edified the Christian world by their moral and ex
perimental works. A library of this description
might be collected from the numerous and valuable
writings of the recluses of Port Royal.
The principal works of Jansenius are Commen
taries on the Evangelists, in quarto ; on the Penta
teuch, in quarto; on the Psalms, Proverbs, and Ec-
clesiastes, at Antwerp, 1614, in folio. These works
all manifest the deep erudition of their author,
and are written with correctness and perspicuity.
Besides this, he has written some works of con
troversy, now little read, and his celebrated com
mentary on St. Augustin, in folio, Louvain, 1640;
and at Rouen, 1652. The latter edition is the
best, and contains some essays omitted in that of
Louvain.
their college at Amersfoort, I found Bibles open on the desks in
all the students' cells. They informed me, a considerable por
tion of time was devoted to its perusal every day, in all their
seminaries.

102 PRELIMINARY SKETCH.
Leydecker has written the life of Jansenius in
Latin, octavo, Utretcht, 1695. See also, Histoire
Ecclesiastique du Dixseptieme Siecle, par Dupin ;
and I'Histoire des Cinq Propositions de Jansenius,
par Dumas.

SELECT MEMOIRS

OF

POET ROYAL

Adoranda est VERITAS etiam si cruci affixa.

MEDITATION,

CHIEFLY FROM NICOLAS FONTAINE'S INTRODUCTION,
TO HIS MEMOIRS OF PORT ROYAL.

N. B. Nicolas Fontaine was one of the last surviving recluses,
and composed his memoirs at a very advanced age at Melun,
whither he retired on being expelled from Port Royal.

0 Thou that hearest prayer, and to whom all
flesh shall come ; before Thee, 0 Father of Spirits,
who searchest the very intents and ground of the
heart, do I desire to present myself in spirit and in
truth. And in thy immediate and most holy pres
ence do I wish to retrace all the mercies thy inflnite
goodness has vouchsafed me, from early infancy
even unto gray hairs.
But who shall worthily number the multitude of
thy mercies, or how shall the impure creature
speak, Avithout profanation, of the infinitely holy
Creator ?
Do thou bestow that preparation of the heart
which may render all the words of my mouth, and
the meditations of my heart, acceptable in thy
(105)

106 INTRODUCTION.
sight, 0 Lord, my strength, and my Redeemer ; may
thy blessed Spirit so open my Ups, that my mouth,
touched as with a coal from the Uving altar, may
less unworthily show forth thy praise.
" Bless the Lord, 0 my soul !" exclaims the royal
psalmist ; and as the means by which his soul may
truly at all times praise Thee, he immediately adds,
" and forget not all his benefits."
That I then may have that deeply engraven
remembrance of all thy mercies, which is the
alone solid and immutable foundation of true
gratitude, it is my wish to record the days which
are past, and the mercies by which they have
been marked. But above all I wish, as the chief
and most especial mercy, to retrace the remem
brance of those thy eminently pious servants, with
whom thou vouchsafedest me the unspeakable
favor and privilege of passing so many years of
my life.
The profound solitude in which I dwell, and
the recluse life I lead, remote alike from every
secular interruption or pursuit, afford ample op
portunity for surveying at leisure events so long
since past.
Do Thou, 0 Lord, bestow thy benediction! the
most spiritual employment unless performed in the
light of thy Spirit, can neither prove an acceptable
mode of employing the present, nor a stimulus to
the soul against the future.
The rapidity with which time so swiftly passes
away, and the certainty that it will so very shortly
elude my grasp for ever, confirms me in this de-

INTRODUCTION. 107
sign. So frail is man, that the memory soon loses
what the eyes no longer behold ; and time, which
has already torn from me all those who were once so
very dear, is continually occupied in obliterating
every vestige of the past.
May I, then, with equal industry, endeavour to
rescue from its devouring gulph, some valuable
records, some fond remembrances, which may prove
substantial amidst the wide desolation ; and which,
although Port Royal be no more, and though its
saints be no longer seen amongst men, may yet
prove effectual to direct the path, and to cheer the
hearts of those that loved them.
Time has indeed laid waste all those beloved
scenes, which once seemed most dear in this life,
but do thou enable me, 0 Lord, to preser\'e that
deeply engraven remembrance of them, which may
prove constantly beneficial for the next.
Let me, then, in the deep solitude of my eell,
endeavour to recall scenes which are so long since
passed away; and persons, whose place amongst
men has so long known them no more. And
whilst my heart assists my memory to retrace,
with the vividness of reality, so many admirable
examples that were once so familiar to me, do
thou, 0 Lord, strengthen my soul, and enable
my heart rather to bless thee for the mercies that
are passed, than to give way to the pang of
natural affection, at the recollection that they have
now no existence upon earth, but in the revered
remembrance of those who, like myself, once sat at
their feet.

108 INTRODUCTION.
Yet as there is a worldly sorrow which com
mences by ahenating the heart from God, and
terminates in working death, so there is a godly
sorrow, which begins by humbling the soul be
neath thy chastening hand, and goes on to pro
duce the peaceable fruits of righteousness unto
eternal life.
Do thou, 0 Lord, bestow that preparation of
the soul, which alone can render my tears not
like those of the ungodly, which as an angry tor
rent, loudly murmuring, lays waste the land over
which it precipitates itself; but hke the tears of
the godly, which as a silent though often a deep
river, yet fertilizes and difiuses rich blessings
over that very soil which it most deeply over
flows. In what manner can a recluse like myself occupy
the intervals of leisure more agreeably than in the
recollection of other recluses, who at first exhibited
to him the model of that life, holy, spiritual, re
tired from men, but continually conversant Avith
THEE, in which his highest and only true dehght
consists ?
t is indeed my sorrow to have survived those
for whose sake most willingly I would have laid
down my Hfe ; yet, in the dreary void which sur
rounds me, it is still a sweet consolation to renew,
in imagination, their dear and revered remem
brance. Though so many years have elapsed
since Port Royal has been no more, yet, even in
the profound solitude of this narrow cell, even
now with the eye of my heart, I still seem to be-

introduction. 109
hold them. Methinks I still folloAV every gesture
as they converse ; and that I still sit at their feet
as I used to do, dwelling with reverential and
delighted contemplation on every varied expres
sion of their saintly countenances, speaking amidst
the holiness of their very silence. Still, as I
write, do I seem once more transported to the
walks of Port Royal, and I almost forget for a
moment the sad reality.
I can scarcely persuade myself that desolation
has actually laid waste all the well known scenes
of that once highly favored spot; that her walls
are overthrown from their very foundations ; that
the sacred ashes of her hallowed dead have been
scattered to the winds by impious hands; and
that, of all her sainthke inhabitants, I alone
remain, whose place on earth shall ever know him
more. Thou, 0 Lord, triest the heart and the reins ;
thou seest at this moment the very ground and
intent of my heart ! thou alone seest the love,
mingled with reverence, with which I cherish the
sacred remembrance of these thy eminently de
voted servants. Do thou, 0 Lord, vouchsafe that
the recollection may at least revive some faint
spark of that heavenly fire, which even their very
presence has so often kindled in my heart ! that
thus those, whose wise precepts and saintlike
example first pointed out the narrow path to my
youth, may still conduct me through the vale
of declining years, to that blessed haven, whither
they are long since safely arrived !

110 INTRODUCTION.
Not that I pretend to turn author; God forbid
an imagination so vain, in an hermit above
seventy-two years of age; and whose infirmities,
as well as whose choice, bid him live as in the con
tinual presence of death.
Whilst I note down faithfully, but succinctly,
many of the scenes which are past; I write with
a view, not merely to illustrate their memory, but
to promote my own edification.
I may truly say with St. Jerome, " In retracing
such virtues on my memory, I am more occupied
for myself than for them, for I desire more benefit
to my own heart, than I can bestow honor upon
them." Indeed, I deeply feel that I ought rather
to implore their forgiveness, lest I should presume
to touch their virtues with unhallowed hands. It
is not then from the delusion of a groundless pre
sumption that I attempt to write; though I con
fess that I do feel that strength of affection, which
would sometimes make me wish that the whole
world might know what such men really were;
and, from an earnest desire that every one might,
even as I do, estimate the unspeakable blessing
which was bestowed upon those, who were honored
with their friendship.
Nor do thou, 0 Lord, suffer me to forget our
unhappy persecutors, — those mistaken men, who
vainly thought they were doing God service by
pursuing thy devoted servants even unto death.
If, after I depart hence, these pages should meet
any human eye; or that this brief and inadequate
sketch should by any chance fall into the hands

INTRODUCTION. Ill
of any one individual, of this unhappy number ; do
thou, 0 Lord in mercy, render it a real blessing to
his soul ! Be pleased so to send forth thy Spirit of
truth and love, that the scales may fall from his
eyes, and the A'^eil be removed from his heart ; that
he may see what manner of men were those whose
life he counted madness, and whose end folly ; and
that, considering the end of their conversation, who
being dead yet speak by a bright example, he may,
in return for the persecutions he ignorantly heaped
upon them, receive from their instrumentality the
unspeakable mercy of eternal life.
0 my God, thou who seest on the one hand my
ardent desire, and on the other the feebleness of my
powers ; pardon, I beseech thee, the one as the ef
fects of human fraUty, and do thou uphold the other
as the fruit of that love thy holy Spirit has wrought
in me, towards thy highly favored servants.
And now, 0 Lord, I finally beseech thee, truly to
hallow unto thyself the work, which in thy name I
am about to commence ; keep me, 0 Lord, in ever
lasting fellowship Avith this blessed portion, as with
the whole of thy Church triumphant ; and may I,
Avith them, one day rest in thy most holy presence,
at whose right hand are rivers of joy, and pleasures
for evermore. Amen.

MEMOIRS.

CHAPTER I.

Institution and Reform of Port Royal — Mh-e An
gelique — M. Agrws — Journee du Guichet.
This celebrated monastery is about six leagues
distance from Paris. It is situated in a wooded
valley, near Chevreuse, and is within Adew of the
little villages of St. Lambert and Vaumurier.
The abbey of Port Royal is one of the most an
cient belonging to the order of Citeaux. It owes
its origin to Mathilde de Garlande, Avife of Matthew,
Lord of Marli, and younger son of the house of
Montmorenci. This nobleman, on his departure for
the holy land, left his lady a considerable sum to be
expended in works of piety. In order to fulfil her
husband's intention, Mathilde consulted Eudes or
Otho of Sully, bishop of Paris, who advised her to
found a monastery. With this view she bought the
fief of Porrois, or Port Royal ; and, in the year
1204, the foundations of the abbey were laid by Ma
thilde, under his superintendence. The church and
monastery of Port Royal, AA^ere erected bv the same
(112)

PORT ROYAL. 113
architect who built the cathedral at Amiens. It
Avas ill like manner distinguished for the beauty of
its architecture. It was of the early pointed order,
the same as that of which the cathedral of Salis
bury affords such a beautiful English specimen. —
The dress of Port Royal was originally precisely
that of the Cistercian order, Avhite woollen, with a
black veil ; but towards the middle of the seven
teenth century, they adopted on their white sca-
pulary a large scarlet cross, as the symbol of the
" Institute of the Holy Sacrament," a rule then
super-added to their own. The discipline of this
monastery, like that of most others, declined in pro
cess of time. Like the generality of religious houses
of the same order, it exhibited, towards the close of
the sixteenth century, a lamentable and awful de
gree of relaxation. The rule of St. Bennet was
scarcely known there. The retirement of the clois
ter was unobserved. The revenues, which ought to
have been diffirsed in charity, were converted to pur
poses of luxury. Self-indulgence had banished all
regularity, and a worldly spirit influenced the whole
community. At this juncture the abbess died. It was at this
period a very common abuse to appoint children to
ecclesiastical offices, in order to secure the revenue
to the family.
Marie Angelique Arnauld was nominated abbess
of Port Royal, before she had completed her eloA-
enth year. She was scarcely eight years old when
she assumed the habit of the order. At nine she
made her profession, before the General of Citeaux.
15

114 MEMOIRS OF
He gave her his benediction eighteen months after-
Avards. How deep are the judgments of God, and his ways
past finding out ! How little probability did there
appear that the child, thus iniquitously elected,
should prove the very instrument, in the hands of
God, to restore discipline in the order, and to lay the
foundation of Port Royal.
The nuns rejoiced at the appointment ; they pro
mised themselves a long period of unbounded lib
erty. Their joy was not of very long duration.
The young abbess at first, indeed, only thought
¦of devising means of passing her time agreeably.
Yet it was soon observed, that if her occupations
bore no marks of piety, her very recreations, how
ever, were such as indicated a powerful and vigorous
mind, a sound judgment, and a superior degree of
intelligence. Her favorite book was Plutarch's
lives; a work which it has often been justly ob
served, has laid the foundation of more great char
acters than perhaps any other.
Scarcely had she attained the age of seventeen,
before God was pleased to effect her conversion. It
was accomplished by means most unlikely.
A capuchin, wearied of a religious life, had
emancipated himself from his superiors. His con
duct had, in many respects, been reprehensible.
He therefore determined to quit France, and to
abjure the Catholic religion.* It so happened
* I here copy from the Port Royal authors, but many circum
stances seem to favor the idea, that the only error imputed to

PORT ROYAL. 115
that he passed through Port Royal in his way.
This abbey is also the parish church.
Being entirely ignorant of this man's miscon
duct, the abbess, from motives of civiUty, requested
him to preach. The capuchin, meanwhile, was
as little acquainted with the characters of the nuns
as they were with his. He imagined them to be
eminently pious. He therefore preached a most
alarming discourse. He expatiated largely on
the misery and dangers of sin, and on the power
and blessings of true religion. He also dwelt
forcibly on the dangers of the world; and por
trayed, in the most lively manner, those peculiar
advantages which are furnished by a monastic life.
The young abbess was forcibly struck. From
that hour she formed the resolution to devote
herself wholly to God. And not only so, she
resolved, by divine grace, that as soon as she
was converted herself, she would strengthen her
sisters, and reform every abuse in the monastery
committed to her charge.
At this period she was taken dangerously ill.
During a confinement of several months, her reso
lution strengthened, and her piety and experience
deepened. Meditation, prayer, and reading the
Scriptures, divided her solitary hours.
She came from her chamber a new person. Her
habits, her manners, her views, were totally changed ;
this capuchin was, his becoming a Protestant, and conscientiously
abjuring the errors of the church of Rome. And hence, that
the conversion of the M. Angelique was the fruit of the faithful
exposition of the gospel of Christ.

116 MEMOIRS OF
her mind was ahvays powerful; those powers
Avere now exercised, not in the gratification of self,
but in establishing a solid and beneficial refonn.
She had some difficulties to encounter; but
nothing could shake her perseverance. The Mere
Angelique's first trials arose from her own family,
who, though eminently respectable, and even
sincerely pious, yet considered the reform projected
by their daughter as savouring of righteousness
overmuch. The relaxed state in which the young abbess
found her monastery has been already mentioned.
Port Royal, indeed, at the end of the sixteenth
century, exhibited a deplorable state of irregu
larity. The rule of St. Bennet Avas scarcely
known there; enclosure was no longer observed.
A worldly spirit had entirely banished regularity.
Their ignorance of the first principles of religion
was deplorable. No sermons were ever preached
there except at professions, which, in a community
of twelve persons, rarely took place. Their con
fessors led a life alike unexemplary, spending their
time chiefly in the pleasures of the chase. The
nuns, meanwhile, devoted themselves entirely to
dress and worldly pastimes. They Avore starched
muslins, and not only suffered their hair to appear,
but dressed it Avith care. They appeared in gloves
and masques, like the most fashionable Parisian
ladies; and during the carnival they even gave
public masquerades.
In this degraded state of the convent, the
young abbess first determined on establishing her

PORT ROYAL. 117
reform. She saAv, hoAvever, that it Avould be
impossible ever to carry it into effect, or even to
make any durably serious impressions, unless she
began by excluding her community from the Avorld,
and giving them time for reflection, by removing
the contagion of dissipated society and AA'orldly
conversation. She resolved, therefore, to re-es
tablish that enclosure which the rule of St. Bennet
so strictly enjoins, and Avhich their own vows
obliged them to obey.
She therefore announced to the community,
that in future, the nuns could only be allowed
to see their relations in the parlour, and that
no visitor should be permitted to enter the
interior of the monastery. That none might
complain of these regulations, her own father and
mother, M. and Madame Arnauld were likewise
included. An occasion of enforcing this rule soon after
presented itself. A little after Easter a profession
took place. A large assemblage of company from
Paris, were, on this occasion, attracted to Port
Royal to witness the ceremony. Not one person
Avas admitted into the interior of the house. This
rule, Avhich, though strictly enjoined by their
order, noAV appeared, from disuse, like an inno-
\-ation, excited many murmurs, which the nuns
endeavoured to appease, by observing that, in the
first place it Avas a necessary conformity to a solemn
A'OAv; and, secondly, that even the very nearest
relations of the abbess Avould be treated precisely
in the same manner.

118 MEMOIRS OF
M. Arnauld could but seldom visit his daughter
at Port Royal, on account of his professional avo
cations; so that the Mere Angelique's constancy
was not hkely to be put to the test before the
recess of the palace. At length, however, the
vacation drew near, and, with it, the time of his
accustomed visit.
After many internal difficulties and conflicts
between her duty and strong natural affection,
being fully convinced that no permanent refor
mation would ever be effected, unless she set
herself an example of separation from the world;
she wrote a long and very respectful letter to her
mother, telhng her the state of her mind.
She said, that having, by the divine grace, been
taught to see the necessity of a thorough reform ;
and, by the same grace, found a willing mind in
her nuns to embrace the regular discipline and
enclosure they had vowed to maintain ; she en
treated both her and her father not to place an}'
obstacles in her way, and not to be displeased if
she entreated the favour of them that, in the event
of their intending her the honour of a visit at the
approaching vacation, they would not take it amiss
if she received them in the parlour, instead of
inviting them, as heretofore, into the interior of
the monastery. But that, if they should feel any
repugnance to comply with this condition, she
entreated them, in that case, rather to deprive her
of the honor of their visit, because she Avas obliged
to forcAvarn them, she should then be under the
very painful necessity of refusing them admission.

PORT ROYAL. 119
Madame Arnauld imparted her daughter's letter
to her husband ; he smiled, never imagining that a
child who was so tenderly attached to him would
ever summon up sufficient constancy to execute her
intention. He immediately fixed a day to go to Port Royal,
Avith his family.-
Himself and Madame Arnauld, with his son, M.
Arnauld d'Andilly, and his two daughters, M*° le
Maitre, and M"° Anne Arnauld, formed the party.
The M. Angehque was informed of their inten
tion, which she learned with painful dismay; as, in
all things, she had ever shown her parents implicit
obedience. Nevertheless, she knew that He who
had commanded her to quit all and follow him, has
declared that whoso loveth father or mother more
than him is not worthy of him. She prepared
herself by supplication and prayer, and by the en
tire sacrifice of natural feelings, for this day of
bitter trial.
The struggle was severe, but it did not shake her
fidehty towards God.
The day of test at length arrived. Early on the
Friday morning, before Michaelmas day, the M.
Angelique received intelligence that her family had
set out. She immediately ordered the keys of ad-'
mission to be dehvered into her own hands, by the
nuns to whose care they were usually confided.
She then went into the church, and prostrated her
self before God. After a flood of tears she ear
nestly besought him to prepare her heart, and fortify
her with the strength necessary not to betray his

120 MEMOIRS OF
cause ; to enable her to struggle through the severe
conflict at hand ; letting his grace overcome nature,
and upholding her to maintain the truth he had
committed to her, even against those whom she held
most dear.
Whilst she was yet engaged in prayer, a distant
sound of carriages was heard on the brow of the
hill, and winding along the avenue ; and, a moment
after, a loud and redoubled knocking at the grand
entrance gate, announced the company was come.
The M. Angelique, who, on the first sound of the
carriages, had arisen and gone to the gate herself,
opened the wicket.
M. Arnauld commanded her to throw open the
great gates. She, clasping her hands in the hum
blest attitude of entreaty, besought him to go into
a little parlour by the side of the gate, where she
might speak to him. M. Arnauld, astonished, re
peated his commands, urging and insisting upon
compliance ; then, rising louder and louder in tone,
he, in a voice of thunder, commanded her instantly
to unbar the gates.
The M. Angelique, pale and trembhng, looked
up to God; then, with a tremulous voice, but
with a determined mind, repeated the same en
treaties. M. Arnauld, absolutely enraged at this unex
pected resistance, spoke in the harshest manner
to his daughter, upbraiding her with the foulest
ingratitude. M. d'Andilly, then about nineteen,
young, and full of fire, assumed a still higher tone ;
and thinking to avenge a supposed outrage to his

PORT ROYAL. 121
father and' mother, overwhelmed her with the
most insulting and injurious epithets ; taxing
her A\dth being a parricide, a monster of ingra
titude, &c.
The vociferation was dreadful; and the alarm
Avas spread on all sides, both within and without
the convent. Nor did the nuns forget that M.
Arnauld was a munificent patron, without Avhose
benefactions the community must have wanted,
(as it might yet be destitute of,) the first necessa
ries of hfe. The firmness, however, of the M.
Angelique remained unshaken. M. Arnauld,
finding that he made no progress, demanded his
tAVO daughters, (the M. Agn^s, and her sister
Marie Claire, at that time only nine years old,)
then residing in the convent, to be brought out to
him immediately. M. Angelique, collected and
tranquil in the midst of the storm, gave one of
the confidential sisters the key of a little door,
Avhich opened into the church, and charged her to
let the two sisters out by that private door. The
two children advanced, with much recollection
and gravity of manner, each in her little nun's
dress. M. d'Andilly, seeing them approach, ran
up to meet them, and began inveighing most
bitterly against their eldest sister. The little
abbess Agnes, with much of her characteristic
mildness and graAdty, calmly replied, " My
brother, our sister has done nothing amiss. She
has only performed her duty, and what fehe is
enjoined and obliged to observe by the ecclesias
tical canons of the council of Trent." M. Andilly
VoL. I. 16

122 MEMOIRS OF
^ould scarcely forbear laughing at the solemnity
of the little abbess's address, and the demure
gravity with which it was delivered. His rage,
however, got the better ; and he exclaimed, " So
then, here is another truly quoting the canons
and the councils !"
At last M. Arnauld, seeing he prevailed nothing,
determined to return, and ordered the horses.
He handed his family into the carriages, re
maining himself last ; till, as he was putting his foot
on the step, he suddenly paused, and turning
back, said he must go for a moment into the
parlour to say one final word to the abbess. The
Mere Angehque entered on the other side; but
scarcely had she opened the blinds of the grate,
when she perceived an expression of grief in her
father's countenance, which affected her beyond
expression. He paused, as though composing his
voice Avith difficulty, and then with effort, and in
a very few words, said, " that she could not but
remember the early kindness and affection he had
always shown her : that he looked from her, his
eldest daughter, for affection, the only reward a
parent AAdshes, but that her ingratitude compelled
him in his declining years to declare a final fare
well ; for he was fully determined never to see her
face more." He then paused, and AAdth a look of
the deepest feeling, added, " I shall indeed never
see you more ; yet for my sake, 0 spare your
health, I entreat you ; and if you have a spark of
the remembrance of my affection left, do not
injure it by indiscreet austerities."

port royal. 123
Hitherto the natural strength of her character, or
rather the grace of God, shed abroad in her heart,
had supported the M. Angelique, and rendered her
invulnerable to reproach ; but at this totally unex
pected appeal, and above all at the touching man
ner with which it was accompanied, her heart was
pierced with the most poignant grief; her body
could no longer endure the severity of the conflict ;
she fainted, and fell motionless and senseless at
his feet.
In an instant the whole face of affairs Avas
changed. M. Arnauld no longer remembered any
offence. He only felt he was a father. Doubtful
if his daughter retained life, he called, and cried,
and knocked for help. But the sisters, instead of
running to the parlour, took flight, supposing the
doors of the monastery were about to be forced
open. At length, with imjch difficulty, they were
made to understand they were wanted instantly, to
assist her. When she began to recover and open
her eyes, she saw her father still at the grate, and
in the greatest uneasiness.
With much difficulty she made an effort to
speak, and besought him not to leave Port Royal
that day. The request was now become unneces
sary. The past was already forgotten. M. Arnauld
only thought of the situation of his daughter,
and promised to accede to all her wishes. A little
bed was then brought down to her in the parlour,
on which she was laid, and M. Arnauld, having
n»mained at Port Royal all that and the following
day, M. Angelique calmly, but AA'ith every mark

124 MEMOIRS OP
of deep feeling, explained to him the reasons of her
conduct. No sooner was tranquilUty thus unexpectedly es
tablished than the M. Agnes and her sister were
allowed again to enter the convent, and everything
went on as usual.
From that memorable day, called in the annals
of Port Royal, "La journee du Guichet," the M.
Angelique found the firmest support from every
member of her own family. Thus the very day
on which she was enabled, by divine grace, to
abandon father, mother, brother, sister, yea, and
almost her own life also, to follow Christ, she
received an hundred fold, by laying the foundation
of the permanence of her reform, and of the con
version and warm co-operation of every member
of her numerous family, besides that of an innu
merable company of saints, now rejoicing Avith her
in the presence of Him at whose right hand are
rivers of joy, and pleasures for evermore.
In five years the monastery was entirely changed.
The whole community presented a pattern of piety,
charity, industry, self-denial, regularity, and every
good work.
Port Royal was the first house that was reformed
in the order of Citeaux. The change, consequently,
excited considerable attention. As usual, opinions
were divided.
The Rev. M. Angelique's sister, the M. Agnes
of St. Paul, was two years younger than herseff.
This lady Avas, at six years old, nominated abbess
of St. Cyr. M. Agnes Avas of a very different

PORT ROYAL. 125
disposition from her sister. She was not distin
guished for the sa*ne masculine energy of mind
and resolute spirit, as the Mere Angelique. She
rather possessed passive, than active strength of
character. But her understanding was solid, though
not brilliant ; her mind was well stored by studies
not common to her sex; her judgment was clear
and accurate; her heart and affections temperate,
and well balanced. Her disposition was placid ;
and she had feared God from her earliest youth.
At nine years old she had learnt all the Psalter by-
heart, as well as the church service, which she
never failed attending with admirable punctuahty.
The Mere Agnes had always felt averse to assume
the office of abbess. She knew it involved a
heavy responsibility, and she was aAvare of her
incapacity worthily to fulfil it. She had ever been
distinguished for unfeigned humility, and for a
warm admiration of her sister.
A little incident has frequently been related,
which is very characteristic of the early disposition
of the two sisters.
When quite children, the M. Agnes scarcely-
being five years old, their grandfather, M. Marion,
told them they should both be nuns. " Since you
wish it, grandpapa, I am very willing," returned the
eldest, " but then it is on condition that T shall be
abbess." " You shall both be abbesses, my dears,"
returned their grandfather. At this the children,
quite delighted, ran to announce their new dignity
to the whole house.
Presently, however, the little Agnes returned to

126 MEMOIRS OF PORT ROYAL.
M. Marion, with a grave and thoughtful counte
nance, and asked to speak to him alone, Aston
ished at the child's serious look, he asked her what
Avas the matter? " Grandpapa," said she, " I come
to tell you I will not be abbess ; I hear that ab
besses will give an account to God of the souls
under their care, and I have been considering that I
shall have enough to do to take care of my own."
" Not I," said the future reformer, the little An
gelique, who was following her, "I, for my part,
will be abbess; and I will take good care, grand
papa, to make my nuns thoroughly do their duty."
Not long after, this lady took her as coadjutrix
in the direction of the monastery of Port Royal.
Thus was the reform solidly established.

CHAPTER II.

Maubuisson.' — Madame d'Etrees.
Meanwhile, the fame of Port Royal, and of the
M. Angelique, extended itself over all France.
Numbers of pious individuals, in different convents,
had long been mourning in secret over the relaxa
tion of their own communities. They earnestly
desired a restoration of the ancient discipline ; yet
they knew not where to begin.
In this perplexity they applied to the M. An
gelique. Petitions were sent from various convents
to the abbess of Port Royal ; she was entreated to
undertake the establishment of the reform they so
anxiously wished for. At first, she replied that
she had no authority to quit her own monastery.
Requests were, however, represented by such a
multiplicity of houses, that she was at length or
dered, by the General of Citeaux, either to go in
person, or to send some of her community, in order
to establish the reform wherever it was desired.
The M. Agnes had now been for some years
initiated into the plans of her sister. She was at
this time equally competent with herself, either to
supply her place at Port Royal, or to carry on the
reform elsewhere. (127)

128 MEMOIRS OF
These ladies, or some of their principal assist
ants, successively visited the monasteries of Mau
buisson, Lys, St. Aubin, St. Cyr, Gomerfontaine,
Tard, the Isles d'Auxerres, and many other
places. In several of these houses they met with ren
counters, which might furnish the subject of vol
umes. In none did they meet Avith more difficulties
than at Maubuisson.
It was in the year 1619, that the M. Angelique
received an order from the General of the order of
Citeaux, to undertake the superintendence of the
monastery of Maubuisson,* whose abbess had been
lately expelled, on account of her irregular con
duct. * The Royal Abbey of Maubuisson is one of the most opulent
and ancient of the order of Citeaux. Many royal personages are
buried there, and its antiquities render it an object of curiosity.
It possessed a very considerable number of Baronies and Seig-
neuries, which extended to a considerable distance ; many villages
were also included under its domination. Throughout the dis
tricts appertaining to each, the jurisdiction of the lady abbess
extended ; and the whole civil authority was vested in courts of
her appointment, and all the subordinate officers derived their
authority from her. The extent of power of these courts, so far
exceeded those of courts leet, and courts baron in England, that
they might, in comparison, be termed absolute. The superiority
of this monastery was eagerly sought, even by personages of the
blood royal.
For a fuller account of this splendid establishment, its jurisdic
tion, the homage paid the abbess, its antiquities, and the intrigues
formed to obtain it for Madame d'Orleans, we refer the reader to
the Vie de la M. des Agnes Suireau, abbesse de Maubuisson, et
de Por^Jloyal, par la Soeur Eustoquie de Flescelles de Bregy, re
ligieuse du Monastere do Port Royal des Champs.

PORT ROYAL. 129
The M. Angelique was therefore commissioned
to take the temporary direction of that richly
endowed abbey, in order to establish a solid and
permanent reformation, before a new superior Avas
nominated. The causes of the abbess of Maubuisson's expul
sion were as follows : — This lady was sister to the
celebrated Gabrielle d'Etrees. She was at first
abbess of Bertancourt, in the diocese of Amiens ;
but was afterwards, through the influence of her
sister, translated by Henry* the Fourth, to the im-
*The means of Madame dEtre.es' nomination to this impor
tant post, were not more creditable to the honor of Henry IV.
than the motive of it was to his piety. It took place as follows :
Henry IV. being on a visit to Gabrielle d'Etrees, at the monastery
of Bertancourt, where she resided with her sister the abbess,
she asked the king to place her sister nearer Paris. The king
replied he would take the matter into consideration ; but that no
monastery at that time occurred to his recollection, which would
be proper. She replied, there was the magnificent abbey of
Maubuisson ; the king answered, that could not be, since the
superiority was not in the gift of the crown, but that the abbess
th-ere was always elected by the community; he added, he
would, however, see what could be done. Accordingly he
shortly after took a hunting excursion in the vast forests which
surround this magnificent abbey, and form a part of its extensive
domain; after which he rode up to the Abbatial lodge, asking to
pay his respects to the lady abbess. The lady who then filled
that place, was Madame de Puisieux, who had been elected by
the community on account of her piety and good conduct. In
the course of conversation, the king, as though by accident, said
to her, " Madame 1' Abbesse, pray from whom is it that you hold
your appointments to this abbacy ?" The lady abbess, little
suspecting treachery in the guest she was so hospitably enter
taining, or dishonor in a royal personage, respectfully and cor
dially answered, " Sire, permit me to receive them from you,
Vol. I. 17

130 MEMOIRS OF
portant and lucrative post of abbess to the monas
tery of Maubuisson, which was one of the most
powerful and opulent abbeys in the kingdom.
The conduct of Madame d'Etrees, during the
five and twenty years she presided over this vast
establishment, corresponded but too well with the
unholy grounds of her nomination. The irregu
larities and dissipation of the monastery of Mau
buisson were long the topics of public animad
version and censure. The infamy of their evil
report spread throughout the land, and went on in
creasing, till its scandalous irregularities at length
became a public disgrace to the order; so that
Louis XIII. being informed of their proceedings,
issued a peremptory order in 1617, to the abbot
of Citeaux, commanding him to institute an im
mediate inquiry into their conduct, and apply,
without delay, the most powerful and efficacious
remedies. Tlie abbot of Citeaux* Avas an amiable as well as
a pious man. He wished to conduct the whole
when it pleases your majesty." The king, suddenly changing
his tone, replied, " That I must first consider of." He then rose
and withdrew, sending word to this good nun that he should
bestow the abbey on another. He immediately sent for bulles
from Rome, and shortly after himself took Madame d'Etrees to
Maubuisson, held the chapter, and, eiting the unadvised words of
the abbess as a formal resignation, compelled the nuns to promise
obedience to this lady, the details of whose scandalous conduct
we shall not record. — See Relat. de la Vie de la Mere des
Anges, p. 14.
* Dom Boucherat, Abbot of Citeaux, and General of the whole
order.

PORT ROYAL. 131
of this disagreeable affair with all possible tender
ness to the parties concerned ; and endeavored, as
far as might be consistent Avith the thorough dis
charge of his duty, to avoid all unnecessary expo
sure, both in consideration to Madame de Maubuis
son herself, and to her very numerous and highly
respectable family connexions.
He therefore commissioned a few of the most
pious and venerable persons amongst the religious
of his order, to visit the monastery in a private man
ner ; informing themselves on the spot, how far the
reports which had gone abroad were well founded.
After which they were to take an opportunity of
respectfully, but firmly remonstrating with the lady
abbess, on the impropriety of her conduct ; inviting
her to reform her monastery, and to prevent any
further step being necessary, by herself introducing
regularity and discipline into her community, and
thus doing away all those grounds of public scandal,
Avhich had given rise to an investigation on the part
of the throne itself; and which, in all events, must
ultimately terminate in the establishment of a most
thorough reform.
The venerable delegates of the abbot of Citeaux
were exceedingly ill received. Nay, so far was
the abbess from paying them the respect due, both
to their character and their official capacity, that
she actually seized and imprisoned them in one
of the towers of her abbey, where she subjected
them to the most infamous treatment; and even
went so far as to detain them many days without
food.

132 MEMOIRS OF
Madame de Maubuisson's view Avas to intimidate
M. de Citeaux. Well aw^are of the weight of
influence of her OAvn extensive and powerful
family connexions, she imagined that the abbot
Avould never dare to provoke the overwhelming
crush of their united opposition, by any further
procedure. Having, therefore, ignominiously dismissed his
commissioners, she vainly flattered lierself, that the
Avhole business Avas for ever set at rest.
Affairs continuing on precisely the same footing at
Maubuisson, if indeed they did not grow worse, the
abbott, who was still unAvilling to resort to harsh
measures, sent a second commissioner in due form,
and accompanied by several attendants.
This second messenger the abbess treated yet
worse than the first. She incarcerated him and all
his suite in one of the towers of the abbey ; keeping
them close prisoners, and allowing them nothing
but bread and water. Nay, she even carried her
audacity and insolence to so unprecedented a length
as to have them severely scourged every day. —
Happily, however, they contrived after four days to
effect their escape, by squeezing through the narrow
window of their dungeon, and then letting them
selves doAvn.
It is superfluous to add, that they did not fail in
stantly to visit the abbot, and to put him in full pos-
, (ession of all that had passed.
The General, seeing nothing was to be gained
by condescension to this froAA^ard lady, immediately
repaired to Paris, in order to confer with her

PORT ROYAL. 133
relatives, on the best means of checking disorders,
AA'^hich, as he observed, brought doAvn a scandal,
not merely on the ancient order of Citeaux, but
which likewise affixed a disgraceful stigma on their
own noble family. Amongst the persons he con-
^ suited, were the Cardinal and the Field Marshal
D'Etrees, her brothers ; and the Cardinal de Sour-
dis, her cousin.
The abbot of Citeaux found these noble lords
and eminences fully disposed to favor his views,
and to lend their most cordial co-operation in his
plans. They were themselves, at this juncture",
highly incensed against the abbess for her conduct,
as it respected her younger sister, who had been
lately permitted to visit Maubuisson, and whom
she had clandestinely married, without the partici
pation of her relations, to the Count de Sanze. —
This young man's family were but little respected,
and his own idle and dissipated habits were but too
notorious. He, as Avell as many others, gay and
thoughtless young men, his companions, were accus
tomed to spend nearly the whole of their time in
this ill regulated monastery; nor was it possible
that the exalted and highly reputable house of
Etrees, should afford any sanction or countenance
to a connection, on so very many accounts inadmis
sible. Having obtained the concurrence of her relatives,
the abbot of Citeaux announced his intended visit
to Madame d'Etrees ; and immediately after made
his appearance, with a numerous retinue, at the
gates of the abbey of Maubuisson.

134 MEMOIRS OF
On his entrance into the monastery, he was not a
little astonished at the disrespect of being received
by the community only, without their abbess. It
Avas in vain that he repeatedly sent to request the
favor of her company, and afterwards summoned
her to take her place as abbess, in the chapter he
Avas about to hold. The lady sent a positive re
fusal ; nor could any solicitations induce her to make
her appearance.
The General then repaired, notwithstanding the
informality of the abbess's non-appearance, into
"the chapter-house; and the whole community
being assembled, he opened the business by an
official and public declaration of the object of his
Adsit. He then, according to the established usage on
such occasions, interrogated each of the nuns pri
vately, on the state of discipline in the monastery ;
after which he again sent a polite message to Ma
dame d'Etrees, to request her to meet him in the
assembled chapter.
This she absolutely and in the most unqualified
terms refused to do.
After reiterated expostulations, all of which Avere
in vain, the abbot sent her his official mandate, as
General of the order, instantly to appear, in com-
phance with his citation, as abbess of the monastery
of Maubuisson.
This mandate she contemned in the same manner
as the rest.
Nothing more remained to be done. The abbot
concluded his visit, dreAv up his report, and de-

PORT ROYAL. 135
parted to Paris, where he gave a full account of
his unsuccessful visit, to the lady's relatives, in
forming them politely of the necessity reluctantly
imposed upon him, of having immediate recourse
to compulsory measures. He then laid the whole
affair before the king : submitting to his Majesty
that the only method which remained was to
expel the abbess who opposed the reform, and
introduce a superior of a different description.
Accordingly, the abbot of Citeaux obtained a
commission to arrest Madame d'Etrees, and to put
her under confinement, in the convent of the
Filles Penitentes de St. Marie, at Paris.
Accordingly, M. de Citeaux and his suite, ac
companied by the Provost of the Marechaussee,
and a numerous company of archers, arrived at
Maubuisson on the third of February, 1618.
Even in this last visit, M. de Citeaux did not
depart from his accustomed lenity and humanity.
On his arrival, he at first drove up to the gates,
unaccompanied by any of the civil power, and
again requested the abbess to come down to speak
to him. On her obstinate refusal, he still re
doubled his solicitations; nay, so great was the
meekness and moderation of this truly Christian
prelate, that he delayed, for the space of tAvo
Avhole days, making any use of the armed escort
he had brought. During the whole of this time,
he reiterated the most earnest expostulations, and
used every persuasive which could be suggested,
to induce her to submit ; and, by voluntarily
quitting the convent, to avoid the disgrace of a

136 MEMOIRS OF
legal arrest. But, after waiting a considerable
time, and finding all his efforts vain, he was at
length compelled to have recourse to the secular
arm. Admittance being refused to the prelate and his
escort, and the gates being barred against them,
they Avere forcibly burst open, in order to seize
the abbess. This lady, who was not risen, hear
ing an unusual noise, and suspecting the cause of
the commotion, had jumped out of bed, and
Avithout waiting to put on her clothes, ran to con
ceal herself.
Almost the whole day was spent in making a
search for her. At last she Avas discovered,
shivering, and half frozen with cold; when she
Avas carried into her bed again, to recover herself
before she set out. But as she still put off rising
from hour to hour, on various pretexts, the pro
vost, after Avaiting till the middle of next day,
ordered four of his archers to take her up on her
mattress, Avrapped in blankets as she lay, and to put
her and her bed in the carriage which Avas waiting.
He then conducted her with an armed escort to
the place of her exile.
The expedition being concluded, and the abbess
safely deposited in the hands of the civil officers,
the General assembled the community, and de
clared to the nuns that he was about to establish
a thorough reform in the monastery; and, with
that view, that he should place over them a vice
gerent, whom they should obey as their abbess,
until the nomination of a new superior.

PORT ROYAL. 137
He then went to Port Royal, to acquaint the M.
Angelique with his design, and to give her his
official commission to undertake the reform, and
the temporary superiority of the monastery of Mau
buisson. Although the M. Angehque accepted, with per
fect submission, the irksome and unthankful task
thus unexpectedly imposed upon her, she left her
prioress to govern in her absence, established her
sister, the Mere Agnes, sub-prioress, and selected
three nuns to take with her to Maubuisson, and to
assist her in establishing the reform.
The abbot of Citeaux, Avho continued at Port
Royal, in order himself to conduct the M. Ange
lique and her companions to their new habitation,
witnessed the sincere grief which her departure oc
casioned amongst her own community, and the tears
which were shed by all those Avho had been under
her direction.
M. de Citeaux first conducted Madame de Port
Royal for a week to her father's house, whilst he
himself went to Maubuisson, in order to dispose the
nuns to receive their new superior, which they Avere
most extremely reluctant to do, as soon as they were
informed who she was.
The General and the Mere Angelique happened
to arrive at Maubuisson, during the time when the
nuns Avere in the choir reciting the office. The in
decent precipitation with which it was hurried over,
Avas a very sufficient specimen to their new supe
rior of what she had to expect in this house, so un
worthy the name of a monastery.
Vol. I. 18

138 memoirs of
Service being over, and the doors of inclosure
being opened, the abbot entered with the M. Ange
lique, and presented her to the whole assembled
community. They received her respectfully, but
with the utmost coldness.
The M. Angelique, on the other hand, whose
childhood had been spent in the monastery of
Maubuisson, met them with the utmost frankness
and cordiality, embracing several of them, whom
she recognized as being amongst her former com
panions. It will now be necessary to present the reader
Avith a brief sketch of the state in which the M. An
gelique found the monastery of Maubuisson, at the
time she assumed its direction.
The community consisted of two and twenty nuns,
almost all of whom might be said to be destitute of
every distinction which should mark the members
of a religious order, excepting dress.
Most of them, indeed, had embraced a monastic
life, contrary to their inclinations.
Their ignorance was gross indeed. They were
scarcely acquainted with the first rudiments of
Christianity. And the Bernadine monk, whose negligence
awfully profaned the sacred and holy office of their
confessor, took not the least pains to give them
any instruction. He contented himself A\dtli hear
ing whatever they pleased to tell him, or indeed
suggesting their confession himself, by repeating
a list of sins, and urging them to say yes or no
to each. Nay, such AA'as the grievous state of irre-

PORT ROYAL. 139
ligion in this unholy community, and to so fearful
a length did their blasphemous profanation extend,
and their irreverence for the most sacred institu
tions of their religion, that they at length imagined
the expedient of drawing up three or four protocols
of confession, which, when they could no longer
defer "attending the confessional, they mutually lent
each other.
The sacred offices of divine service were performed
Avith the most indecent negligence, indevotion, and
precipitation ; to afford more space for the vain and
dissipated amusements in which they consumed the
whole of those lives, they had solemnly vowed ex
clusively to dedicate to the service of God.
Their hours were mostly spent in diversions of a
frivolous nature, with secular company, who had at
all times free access to this degraded community.
Cards, games of chance, and theatrical perform
ances, were amongst their most usual amusements.
Frequently they gave entertainments and parties,
not always of the most select society, in the spa
cious arbors of the magnificent gardens belonging
to the monastery, and often their abbess took her
whole community to walk on the terrace of the
lakes which supplied them Avith fish, and which
are situated near the high road from Maubuisson
to Paris. Here they were met by the monks of
the abbey of St. Martin of Pontoise, a monastery
apparently no better regulated than their oAvn,
when they openly and unblushingly spent the sum
mer evenings in dancing on the grass-plat of the
terrace.

140 memoirs of
The pious historian of Port Royal mentions
these disorders but as the beginning of their ex
cesses. Perhaps there can be no greater proof of
the inconsistency of frivolous amusement with
genuine Christianity, than observing how scanda
lous and shocking those very things appear to us
in persons devoted to God, by the vow of a reli
gious order, which we think nothing of amongst
our Protestant friends, who are yet bound by an
equally awful vow, and an equally solemn sanction,
to renounce the vanities as well as the pomps of
this world.
Such was the scene of disorder which awaited the
pious abbess of Port Royal.
Undismayed, though fully sensible of the difficul
ties she was about to encounter, she armed herself
Avith a holy courage, resolved to go on in the
strength of her Lord. Nor were her three excellent
companions less penetrated with the same feelings.
The M. Angelique did not indeed attempt either to
conceal from herself, or to dissemble with them the
arduous nature of the task to which they were
called. " My dear sisters," said she, " it may be
necessary, and very probably necessary, that not
only our health, but our lives should be sacrificed
in order to the accomplishment of this Avork ; but
the work is a work of God." Perhaps she recol
lected the speech of M. de St. Cyran to a timid dis
ciple, who was advised to abandon a known duty
on account of his health. " Sir, it is necessary Ave
should do the will of God ; but it is not necessary
that we should live."

port ROYAL. 141
The words, however, of the excellent M. An
gelique, proved at once both an exhortation, and,
as the event showed, a prophecy. An exemplary
reform, indeed, was established at Maubuisson ;
but their abbess's exhortation was literally obeyed ;
and she, and her three excellent companions,
'endured such extremity of hardship and persecu
tion, and spared themseh'^es so little, that one
of them, the sister Marie Claire Arnauld, sister
of M. Angelique, entirely ruined her constitu
tion ; and though she survived her visit to
Maubuisson near tAventy-eight years, she never
enjoyed tAVO day's health, till her spirit returned
rejoicing to her Saviour. The trial of faith of
one of her other companions Avas less prolonged.
She was called from good Avorks to her reward,
and died almost immediately on her return to
Port Royal.
The first step of the M. Angelique's reformation
Avas the exclusion of all worldly company, and the
strict re-establishment of the rules of enclosure.
She was, hoAvever, soon convinced that it Avould be
utterly impossible to effect any permanent or solid
reformation, Avithout forming a company of ncAv
nuns, Avhose members should be adequate both to
set an example, and to restrain the license of the
old ones. She therefore obtained permission to
receive novices. The fame of the M. Angelique,
and the celebrity of the reform of Port Royal, had
been very Avidely diffused ; and hence an immense
number of applications for admission croAvded in
upon her from every quarter.

142 MEMOIRS OP
From amongst eighty persons who presented
themselves as postulants, the M. Angelique se
lected thirty, whom, after a rigorous trial, she
judged to possess a solid vocation.
The chief attention of the M. Angelique and her
three companions was now devoted to inform the
minds, enlighten the consciences, and form the
habits of these novices.
Thus, in addition to the whole and sole charge of
the vast temporal and spiritual concerns of the im
mense and rich abbey of Maubuisson, she labored
Avith incredible assiduity, in herself instructing the
novices. In this arduous post her capacious mind
not only traced an enlightened plan of reform, in
the regulation of her monastery, and the adminis
tration of justice in the sphere of its external juris
diction, but the most minute details did not
escape her vigilant attention and sagacious eye.
She not only labored incessantly in the reli
gious instruction of the noA'ices, but her care and
her personal exertions extended themselves to
every particular of the monastic observances.
She even frequently assisted in teaching them
the proper mode of recitation of the service, that it
might be performed in a proper and devotional man
ner. Nay, she even imposed upon herself the
restraint of dining and spending a great part of
every day in the noviciate, on purpose to inspect
their whole behaviour and progress.
Accordingly the monastery of Maubuisson soon
assumed an entirely new character, and exhibited
a totally different appearance.

PORT ROYAL. 143
The solemn and devotional performance of the
offices of the choir ; a liturgic chant, supported by
voices clear and distinct, yet sweet and grave ; an
uniform habit of laborious industry; a strict
economy and self-denial ; and a noble generosity
and extensive charity, were soon established by
the M. Angelique in this little family, whose ex
ertions she animated by her own zeal, and by giving
them an example in the performance even of the
most serAdle and laborious offices.
Instead of installing herself in the vast and
elegant apartments of the abbess, the M. Angelique
appropriated them as an infirmary, and selected
for herself precisely the most incommodious and
the smallest cell in the whole house.
Nay, her labors even extended so far, as to set
an example to the lay-sisters ; being often the first
to sweep the passages, carry in the fire-wood, wash
the dishes, or weed the gardens, &c.
Whilst the M. Angelique cheerfully assisted in
all these laborious offices herself, she alike in
spired her little family by her zeal, and softened
the rigor of their labors by words of comfort and
edification. Thus was the outward face of the monastery
gradually changed, and the services requisite to this
immense establishment were performed regularly,
Avithout noise, hurry, or distraction.
Even the ancient nuns, Avho were the original
inhabitants of Maubuisson, began by degrees to
admire and reverence, and even to love their ncAv
superior, and the little community, which they at

144 MEMOIRS OF
first beheld growing up around her, Avith jealous
eyes. Indeed the kind manners of the M. Angelique
had greatly contributed to Avin them over; she
showed them CA^ery sort of attention and kindness,
and not only ahvays behaved to them in the most
respectful manner herself, but insisted on their
being treated Avith marked deference and respect
by the Avhole of her little community.
She likcAvise ordered them to be served in every
thing, and obeyed Avith the utmost punctuality, to
the most minute particular, not inconsistent Avith
the rules of the house. This indeed was some
times not a little difficult, as the old nuns seemed
at first inclined purposely to try to the utmost the
patience of their neAV superior and her little com
pany. They soon hoAA^ever perceived that the M. An
gelique on all occasions, excepting where her dut}^
Avas concerned, was willing to deny herself when
ever it could be the means of affording them any
comfort. Nor did they fail to observe, that in the
midst of all her arduous cares, she ahvays found
time to pay a visit every evening to one of the old
nuns who was blind, and to stay Avith her during
the time of the evening collation, to cheer and
console her by innocently amusing or edifying
conversation. Her kind manners and friendly attentions began
gradually to dissipate the prejudices entertained
by the nuns, not only against herself, but against
the reform. The piety, recollection, heavenly

PORT ROYAL. 145
mindedness, and humble modesty of her three
companions, produced a deep impression in their
minds, and filled them with sincere admiration
and esteem. Those amongst the nuns of Mau
buisson, who were well disposed, began to enter
tain the most friendly sentiments towards their
new inmates. They seemed never tired with
co'i.itemplating them; their Christian demeanour,
their guarded yet kind manners, the heavenly-
expression of their countenances, and the very
inflexions of their voice, seemed wholly new to
them. They had never beheld any thing, in any
degree similar; and their new companions ap
peared to them as inhabitants of a distinct world.
Nay, those amongst the old nuns of Maubuisson,
Avho would not confess themselves so quickly won
over, were frequently seen stopping as they
passed the Port Royal nuns, in the course of their
daily avocations, and turning round to look after
them, and to contemplate them at leisure ; so ncAv
and so delightful did their heavenly deportment
appear. Such was the reform established by these young,
but devoted Christians, whose abbess, though seve
ral years older than themselves, was yet not at that
time quite seven and twenty.
In the course of some months, with the excep
tion of a very few amongst the oldest associates of
Madame d'Etrees, who yielded, however, a decent
external conformity, the whole became disposed
very cordially to enter into the vicAvs of the abbess
of Port Royal.
Vol. I. 19

146 MEMOIRS OF
Indeed, long before the arrival of the M. An
gelique, two or three nuns amongst the community
of Maubuisson, had always been distinguished by
the respectability of their conduct. They had,
indeed, no distinct religious views, and were
totally devoid of instruction; but they were sin
cere in their obedience to the light they had ; they
endeavoured conscientiously to discharge their out
ward duties, and they most sincerely mourned over
the scandalous disorders which disgraced their mon
astery ; and though they had neither the capacity
nor the authority necessary to effect a reformation,
they had long done all that lay in their power to
to stem the torrent of iniquity.
Amongst other examples on record, one instance
is too honorable to remain wholly unnoticed, even
in this brief sketch.
The ancient prioress of Maubuisson, was a lady
of the house of Cleri; she had indeed but Httle
religious instruction, and still less religious vocar
tion : but, finding herself engaged in the sacred
obligation of monastic a^ows, she endeavoured
conscientiously to discharge her duty, by a punctual
observance of the rules of her house; nor did
she ever swerve from it, although she stood
alone in a monastery, where her abbess, and the
whole community, discountenanced all that was
good. Discreet, disinterested, and conscientious, she
used all her efforts to maintain union in her dis
tracted community, and to preserve the morals of
its degraded inhabitants.

PORT ROYAL. 147
She saw with deep sorrow, that the doors of the
abbatial side of the house were constantly open ;
and that the very apartment of their superior,
was a continual place of resort of a profligate
court. The celebrated Gabrielle d'Etrees lived
with her sister, the abbess, and both were equally
involved in scenes of dissipation too painful to
dwell on.
Under this apparently remediless evil, the good
prioress resolved not to remit her efforts, however
unavaihng. Destitute of the religious authority
necessary to oppose her abbess, destitute of clear
light to exhort her sisters, she always maintained
the most respectable and prudent conduct herself;
and always kept possession of the key of the enclosure
next the cloister, which she carefully locked herself;
and, by the sincerity of her intentions, and the
uprightness of her demeanour, she gained over two
or three of the nuns, who united with her in resisting
the torrent of iniquity.
This truly respectable nun was in a state of
constant solicitude, because the king, Henry the
Fourth, was perpetually spending his time in the
monastery, with all the most dissipated young
noblemen of his court ; nor did either the king, his
retinue, or the abbess, Madame d'Etrees, leave any
means untried to allure the community into their
' society and dissipations.
For a long while the vigilance of the prioress
effectually baffled their endeavours.
At length, after having for a long Avhile watched
for an opportunity in vain, and notwithstanding

148 MEMOIRS OF
all the vigilance of Madame Cleri, and her faith
ful nuns, the king suddenly arrived, with a nu
merous retinue and armed escort, at the hour
when he was least expected; just after complin,
as the nuns Avere retiring from church. He im
mediately sent one of his courtiers, and bade him
rush to the gate of the cloister, and endeavour
to enter by force or artifice, before it could be
closed. The nobleman had reached the gate, just as the
sister Ambrosia, one of the confidential nuns, was
shutting it; he pushed it open with so much
violence, as to throw her down ; then rushing past,
he seized the first nun he met in the passage, and
dragged her by force towards the great hall, where
was the king.
The good sister Amteosia flew to inform her of
what was passing ; on which the prioress, Avithout
a moment's hesitation, and only accompanied by her
two faithful nuns, hastened into the royal hall, where
the king, surrounded by all the young nobility of
his court, was banqueting with the abbess, and
Mademoiselle Gabrielle.
Without stopping to salute the king, or trem
bling at the armed escort who lined the hall, the
prioress peremptorily commanded her two com
panions instantly to seize, and carry off the nun ;
which, being done, she turned to the astonished
king, and with an intrepid eye and firm voice,
thus addressed him : " Do you not blnsh. Sire.
to be thus ungratefully profaning the temples of
that God, whose arm has so signally conducted

PORT ROYAL. 149
you through unparalleled difficulties, and who only
seated you upon the throne, that your majesty
might be the example of the court, and the guar
dian of the morals of your nation ?"
The whole assembly were for an instant silent
^ Avith astonishment; then the king arose, and most
respectfully re-conducting the virtuous nun to the
door of the enclosure, he immediately withdrew,
Avith all his riotous companions.
Meanwhile the prayers and tears of Madame de
Cleri, were not lost: her conscientious obedience
to the hght 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 Cleri,"'
and her faithful companions, as messengers from
* This excellent nun became, under the M. M. Angelique and
Suireau des Anges, a most exemplary and devoted Christian. She
lived to a very advanced age, and her sight 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, accord
ing to her degree of light, bestowed upon 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 approached 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 mercies of her life, how it had pleased God
to answer her prayers, and lead her from darkness into his mar-

150 MEMOIRS OF
heaven. Thus, even in the degraded and iniqui
tous abbey of Maubuisson, though encompassed
by vice without, and tried by darkness and igno
rance within, we see that where two or three
faithful, though uninstructed servants of God, were
gathered together, in the name of Christ, he con
descended to be indeed in the midst of them, and
did not fail to answer their prayer, to deliver, and
to bless them.
The reformation having been happily effected in
this monastery, month after month passed away,
Avith every prospect of increasing peace and tran
quillity. The community of Maubuisson became
daily more reconciled to the change; the novices
increased in piety, and abounded more and more
in good works. And the M. Angehque and her
companions, finding their labour become lighter
every day, began to promise themselves soon to
reap an abundant harvest; when a totally unex
pected event frustrated all their expectations.
Madame d'Etrees, whom the reader Avill recol
lect, we left under the protection of the Filles
Penitentes de St. Marie, contrived on the 10th of
vellous light. She then said, with extraordinary joy, "We
must praise GoD, I much wish the Te Deum to be sung." In
stantly the Abbess des Anges ordered it to be done. The pi-e-
centress began, and the whole choir followed. As they sung the
very words, "In te, Domine, speravi, non confundar in Eeternum,"
the good mother breathed her last, in a joy and peace which
passes all understanding. Voyez Vie de Suyreau des Anges, pp.
58, 59. Also, Besogne, torn. i. pp. 234, 235. Also, Dom Cle-
w,encet, torn iii. p. 28.

port royal. 151
September, 1619, to escape from her exile. This
she effected by the assistance of her brother-in-law,
the Count de Sanze, 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 re
fused them admittance, the Count de Sanze and his
party instantly burst it open; and, after severely
beating, and otherwise ill using the servant, the}-
proceeded with Madame d'Etrees directly to the
church. The nave of enclosure, which separates
the door common to the parish congregation, from
the internal choir appropriated to the nuns, would,
she knew, be opened to her by the Mere de la
Serre, one of the ancient community of Maubuisson,
who had been formerly associated with her in all
her scandalous excesses. This nun had secretly
kept up a constant correspondence with Madame
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 immediately opened for
her admittance.
The first person Madame d'Etrees happened to
meet, was the M. Angelique herself. She did not
betray the least embarrassment, or even surprise, at
so totally unexpected a rencounter. Her calmness
rather disconcerted Madame de Maubuisson, Avho
said to her, with considerable emotion, " You,

152 MEMOIRS OF
Madame de Port Royal, have for a sufficient
length of time usurped the place which belongs
only to me ; being now returned to my own house,
you Avill see the necessity for your immediate de
parture." " Madame," replied the M. Angelique, Avith
perfect calmness, but with respect, "I am per-.
fectly ready to quit this house, as soon as our
common superiors allow me my dismission." She
then herself conducted Madame d'Etrees to the
abbess's lodge, the apartments of which, in this
royal establishment, were unusually spacious and
magnificent; and which, during the superiority
of Madame d'Etrees, had been furnished very
expensively, and with peculiar taste and elegance.
Instead of the sumptuous decorations with Avhich
it had been formerly adorned, she found it fur
nished 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
Avho, having that day taken medicine, were then
confined to their beds.
Madame d'Etrees could no longer contain her
indignation ; but, turning from her former friends,
Avith an air of loathing and contempt, she dis
dainfully said to the M. Angelique, who accom
panied her, "I desire these filthy and disgusting
creatures may be instantly taken aAvay, and that
1 may be no longer exposed to such an offensive
sight !" " Madame," replied the M. Angelique,
coolly, "if this apartment is not in a proper con-

PORT ROYAL. 153
dition to receive a lady abbsss, I trust you will
consider it an excusable circumstance, since the
honour of your ladyship's company was wholly
unexpected." The abbess, however, chose to remain in her
OAvn apartment, where the M. Angelique left her,
to arrange and lock up her papers ; after which
she went doAvn herself into the kitchen, to order
Madame d'Etrees a proper dinner, and suitable at
tendance. She gaA'e directions to the nuns as to every par
ticular, that Madame d'Etrees might be served with
the dignity belonging to her rank and office, and
that everything might be done without trouble or
confusion. It was then service time. In honour of the
abbess's return, high mass was solemnly chanted.
When it Avas over, Madame d'Etrees went all
over the house, visiting every nun in particular,
and endeavouring, 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. An
gelique. Madame d'Etrees having asked two of them for
the set of keys belonging to the house, they an
swered, " that they had delivered up the keys into
the hands of Madame de Port Royal." The word
' Madame' grievously offended the abbess, who in
dignantly exclaimed, " Madame ! there is in this
house no Madame but myself"
Vol. L 20

154 MEMOIRS OF
Dinner hour being arrived, a very handsome din
ner was served to Madame d'Etrees, in the abbess's
apartment ; whilst the M. Angelique went as usual
into the refectory to dine with the nuns. Before
she sat down to table, she briefly informed them
of what was passing, and exhorted them to be pre
pared to encounter some fatigue before the day
was over.
After dinner, the Bernardino monk, who had so
negligently filled his office of confessor under Mad
ame d'Etrees, sent to request an audience of the M.
Angelique, in the parlour. His object was to en
deavour by gentle means to persuade her to with
draw. To persuasions succeeded threats of the
A-engeance of the Count de Sanze ; but finding all
in vain, Madame de Maubuisson joined her expos
tulations ; she concluded by saying, " that she
hoped Madame de Port Royal would rather take
her departure quietly, than provoke them to
resort to measures of violence, the bounds of which
she might not be able to control.
The M. Angelique answered, " that being 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 they had placed her."
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 pro
posed to Madame de Port Royal, that they should
all go together to the church.

port royal. 156
The little band of the M. Angelique accompanied
their spiritual mother, and having entered the
church the whole of this pious company knelt
down, to recommend themselves to God, under the
strange predicament in which they were then cir
cumstanced. Then Madame d'Etrees, spying her opportunity,
whispered to the ancient nuns of Maubuisson to
seize the M. Angelique, and thrust her out by
force through the door of enclosure ; but they, not
chosing to take any part in the business, she, with
her own hands, endeavoured to drag the M. An
gelique from the place where she was kneeling,
close to the door of the choir, which opens into the
external church ; at the same time screaming out
for help, as though she had been herself attacked.
At this concerted signal, Madame de la Serre in
stantly opened the external door with her false
key, and the Count de Sanze and all his company
rushed in with drawn swords, shouting and bran
dishing their glittering blades around the head of the
abbess, who, still kneeling, preserved a calm and
placid countenance. The Count de Sanze enraged,
then put his pistol to her breast ; and one of his
companions actually fired one, in order to frighten
the M. Angelique, and to induce her, in her panic,
to pass of her own accord through the open door,
which seemed her only escape, as they surrounded
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

156 MEMOIRS OF
betraying the least emotion, Madame d'Etrees, the
Count de Sanze, the Bernardine confessor, and the
3'oung 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 from their knees, with several of
the original community 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
Avith her. One of them, a postulant, chanced to be
occupied at the time in the dairy, which was a
very large one, and of which she had the superin
tendence. It was situated under ground, owing to
Avhich she heard nothing of the 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, nothing 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

PORT ROYAL. 157
abbess; if I am detained after the departure of my
abbess, it will be a false imprisonment, not a monas
tic enclosure. I advise you, Madame, to consider
the consequences of such a detention ; I demand an
instant liberation." Madame d'Etrees instantly
opened the door to her.
The M. Angelique, finding herself thus unexpect
edly destitute of house and home, collected the
Avhole of her little company, and kneeling down in
the open air, besought the Lord, whose cause had
brought them there, to direct their steps and to pro
vide for them.
They then rose up, and the M. Angelique, ar
ranging them two and two, as in a solemn proces
sion, they began slowly to walk towards the town
of Pontoise. The postulants walked first, then the
novices; to them succeeded the original nuns of
Maubuisson, and lastly of all, the nuns of Port
Royal and herself. In this manner they entered
the town, walking two and tAvo in profound silence,
with their great veils let 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 unusual proces
sion. Some supposed it must be a religious ceremony ;
others thought, perhaps, it was some neAV commu
nity of nuns about to be established in their town ;
others, hoAvever, who recognized the dress of the or
der, and who well knew the character of Madame
de Maubuisson, had some shrewd suspicions of what
had actually happened.

158 MEMOIRS OF
The whole town was soon collected, and all were
in admiration of the modesty, devotion, and holy
tranquillity of their demeanor.
The M. Angelique conducted her daughters to
the first church which they met with, which hap
pened to be that of the Jesuits. There the Grand
Vicaire of Pontoise, and Dr. Duval, who enter
tained a high respect for her, came to delibe
rate with the M. Angelique, on the steps proper
to be taken under so unprecedented a conjunc
ture. The news quickly circulated throughout Pontoise
and its whole neighbourhood. The Carmelites, Ur-
sulines, and almost every other religious establish
ment, or private gentleman's house, offered an asy
lum 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 hospi
tality to cede to the M. Angelique, until tran
quillity should be again restored ' in the abbey of
Maubuisson. Before the nuns quitted the church they said ves
pers together; after which they set out in procession
as before, to take possession of their temporary abode.
The whole town flocked together to behold so edi
fying 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 knelt out of respect ; and see
ing the nuns Avalk with clasped hands, sympatheti
cally united with them in prayer.

PORT ROYAL. 159
On reaching the Grand Vicariat, they found the
kindness of the inhabitants already occupied in an
ticipating every want.
Beds, fire wood, kitchen utensils, food, money,
everything in short which could possibly be of any
use to them, poured in with a profuse abundance on
CA'ery side, so that in the course of a few hours the
community appeared completely established, and the
next day they were found proceeding with the same
regularity and tranquillity as if nothing unusual had
happened. The abode of M. Angelique and her nuns was not,
however, of long duration. The porter of the mo
nastery of Maubuisson, 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. Ar-
nauld's family, and gave them full information of
the Avhole business.
M. de Citeaux did not continue long unapprized
of Avhat had passed ; so that, a warrant being ob
tained next morning, before evening the civil offi
cers arrived at Maubuisson, AAdth a company of two
hundred and fifty archers.
Madame d'Etrees, who suspected the consequences
of her unadvised measures, had taken the precau
tion of posting sentinels on the various roads to
watch, and give her intelligence if any of the civil
poAver made their appearance.
She was soon informed that an unusual cloud of
dust and glittering of arms were seen through the
trees on the road to Paris. Madame d'Etrees,
without waiting for further particulars, fled in dis-

160 MEMOIRS OF
guise through a concealed door, she had taken the
precaution to open on purpose, accompanied by
the Count de Sanze, and all the young gentlemen
Avho had escorted him, and who had remained in
the monastery ever since. As for the confessor,
Dom Sabathier, who by some accident did not re
ceive the intelligence so early, he was obliged
to climb 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 time. —
The whole party then fled to some of their
friends, where they remained concealed for several
Aveeks. The Mere de la Serre, Avho had been the chief
instrument in this scandalous scene, was less fortu
nate. 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 mo
nastery. The access was entirely concealed by a tapestry
hanging, which fell over it ; and even Avere it dis
covered, it could only be 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, Avithout findins; anything, after
establishing a guard of a hundred men, Avent to
Pontoise. When their commander Avaited on the
M. Angelique, and very politely told her that his

PORT ROYAL. 161
Majesty, anxious for the prosperity of so consider
able an establishment as Maubuisson, was A^ery
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
time was to be lost, the M. Angelique disposed her
self immediately to set out. All the ecclesiastics
of the town chose to show them the respect of ac
companying them as far as the gates of the mo
nastery. They all set out ; the ecclesiastics first,
and then the nuns, walking tAvo and two, and form
ing a long procession, between a double file of
archers, mounted, and carrying each a lighted flam
beau. Meanwhile, almost every inhabitant of the
town or neighbourhood hurried to behold the cere
mony ; and notwithstanding the lateness of the
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 archers, and in providing for their refresh
ment, on that of the nuns. Towards morning the
sentinel, 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. An
gelique describes as rather resembling a trooper
than a nun, at first not only refused to quit her
Vol. I. 21

162 MEMOIRS OF
lurking hole, but began to insult the archers in the
most opprobrious terms ; well knowing they could
not place a ladder so as to chmb 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 transferred to another
convent. The archers still remained six whole months in
the neighbourhood of Maubuisson, lest Madame
d'Etrees, Avhose retreat was unknown, should me
ditate a second enterprise.
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 night and day,
not only insulted and ill used the workmen and
labourers who were employed there, but continually
fired in at the windows, particularly those of the
M. Angelique.
The guard which the government had proAdded,
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 show 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 discovered, and shut up
ancAv with the Filles Penitentes, all hostilities

PORT ROYAL. 163
ceased; and the M. Angelique was left in tranquil
lity 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 be
came, by the example of the Port Royal nuns, a
truly converted character. Her haughty spirit was
humbled ; the fierceness of her nature Avas turned
into the gentleness of the lamb ; and, after a dark
and stormy day, her evening sun set with a bright
and peaceful light ; and her name, though at the
eleventh hour, was enrolled amongst the worthies
of Port Royal.
We cannot speak with the same assurance 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 Cha-
telet. The last certain intelligence we have con
cerning her, is that of a venerable religious, who
Avent to pay her a charitable visit, in hopes of lead
ing her to repentance. He found her stretched on
a sorry mattress, in a state of the most squalid
misery and disorder, 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 solicita
tions of the Port Royal abbess. The kindly in
tended visit of the pious religious she rejected
with scorn. No more is certainly known of this
unhappy woman ; but, about twenty years after,
at the time of her death, the casket wherein she
used to keep her papers, her jewels, and all her

164 MEMOIRS OF
most precious and important effects, being brought
to Maubuisson, the Mere Suireau des ^nges, then
abbess, was equally astonished and touched to
find all these things gone, and replaced by a New
Testament and a Thomas 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 difficul
ties the M. Angelique had to encounter at the
monastery of Maubuisson. They are indeed slight
in comparison of many she afterwards had to endure
from the nuns of the monastery of Tard.
They are, however, sufficient to show, not only
that he who will serve the Lord, 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, however, a sohd
reform was, at length, effectually estabhshed.
Both the nuns and abbesses considered their visi
tors from Port Royal, as angels descended from
heaven. The M. Angelique became a blessing,
not only to her own abbey, but to the whole order
of Citeaux.

CHAPTER III.

Port Royal de Paris. — Recluses. — ScJwols.
Meanwhile the celebrity of Port Royal had oc
casioned a prodigious increase in the number of
its inhabitants. Thirty nuns of Maubuisson be
sought the M. Angelique 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 inconve
nience. The abbey had been ori^nally destined for twelve
nuns. It was now inhabited by eighty.
It ought to have been observed, that the monas
tery was situated in a deep and thickly wooded
valley, Avatered by two extensive lakes. For want
of being properly drained, they had spread in one
continued marsh over the whole vale. The vicinity
of the wood increased the evil. The situation be
came exceedingly damp and unhealthy. The whole
monastery Avas 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 infir
mary. Deaths continually succeeded each other;
(165)

166 MEMOIRS OF
yet numbers of fresh postulants were perpetually
offering. In this difficulty Providence did not abandon the
M. Angelique. A resource was offered by her own
family. Her mother, Madame Arnauld, was a lady
of very considerable affluence. She was daughter
to the celebrated M. Marion, advocate-general. —
This lady had been the mother of twenty children.
Ten had died in their youth ; the others were am
ply and honourably provided for. She was herself,
at this period, left a widow, with a very considera
ble fortune at her own disposal.
There happened, at this very juncture, to be a
noble house, Avith 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 Avas soon pre
pared 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 community Avas 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.
Both these monasteries were considered as fonn-
ing one abbey ; but, thenceforward, they were dis
tinguished by the appellations of " Port Royal de
Paris, and Port Royal des Champs."
Now, La Maternite.

PORT ROYAL. 167
The removal of the nuns took place in 1625.
The M. Angelique seeing her reformation so thor
oughly effected, began to consider the best mode of
giving it solidity and permanence. 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 nuns. In 1630 the
M. Angehque and the M. Agnes resigned their offi
ces, and restored the monastery to a free election.
They were, however, very frequently appointed
abbesses afterwards.
It has been mentioned, that the M. Angehque
had nine brothers and sisters living. Six of her sis
ters were nuns at Port Royal. Her brothers all
filled distinguished posts, in a manner most honour
able to their reputation.
Her eldest brother, M. Arnauld d'Andilly, occu
pied the office of commissar ^'general to the army.
His duties obliged him to an almost continual at
tendance at court. The great integrity and fidelity
for which he was distinguished, procured him uni
versal respect ; and his amiable disposition rendered
him exceedingly beloved. The queen particularly
honoured him with the highest esteem. But, above
all, he was remarked for his deep piety, so that,
Avhilst yet in his early years, he was venerated even
by courtiers as a saint.
Another of her brothers was M. Henry Arnauld,
Bishop of Angers. This gentleman was esteemed
one of the most pious prelates in France. He was,
at an early age, sent as envoy from the . court of
France to that of Rome. His talents and piety

108 MEMOIRS OF
Avere so highly esteemed there, that medals were
struck in his honour, and a statue was erected to him
by the noble house of Barbarini. When he became
Bishop of Angers, he was so assiduous in perform
ing his pastoral duties, that he never but once in
his life quitted his diocese ; and that was to convert
the Prince of Tarentum, and to reconcile him with
the Duke de La Tremouille, his father.
The city of Angers, in opposition to all his efforts,
revolted in 1652. The Queen mother was advanc
ing in order to take signal A'engeance. 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. " Madame," said he, giving her the conse
crated 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 infallible claim to
the Bishop of Angers' good offices was to use
him ill.
He was truly the father of the poor and afflicted.
His Avhole time was taken up in prayer, reading,
and the affairs of the diocese. A friend fearing that
his health might be injured by incessant labour,
requested him to set apart one day in every week
for rest. " I have no objection," replied M. d' An
gers, " provided you fix on one in which I am not
bishop." The other brother of the M. Angelique, was the
great Arnauld, Dr. of Sorbonne, who was after-

PORT ROYAL. 169
wards so distinguished a champion of Jansenism.
He was the last of Madame Arnauld's children,
and Avas twenty years younger than his brother
M. d'Andilly. At a very early period he showed
marks of that energy and fire, by which he was
subsequently so peculiarly characterized. When
only six years old, he was staying with his rela
tion, Cardinal Perron. One day after dinner ho
Avas intently occupying himself with pen, ink, and
paper, instead of amusing himself with his play
fellows. The cardinal asked him what he was
about ? " Sir," returned the child, " I am as
sisting you to refute the Hugonots." Afterwards,
when he was admitted as a member of the Sor
bonne, instead of the oath ordinarily tendered, he,
Avith great energy, swore not only to abide by the
doctrines of the church, but to defend them to the
last drop of his blood.
Whilst at Maubu:isson, the M. Angehque had
been introduced to the venerable St. Francis de
Sales, and, by his means, to the Baroness de Chan
tal. With both of them she formed a close friend
ship. She introduced them both, likewise, to all
the members of her own family.
This acquaintance wrought a wonderful change
in every individual belonging to it. The family
of the Arnaulds were not only ancient, noble, and
affluent, but they had been noted, during many
successive generations, for the great superiority of
their talents. They now began to be as much
celebrated for exalted piety, as for the lustre of
their intellectual endowments. St. Francis went
Vol. I. 22

170 MEMOIRS OF
to his eternal reward when the youngest Arnauld
was but a child. Nevertheless, the piety which
his instructions had first implanted, progressively
increased throughout the whole family.
Such was the state of the Arnauld family when
M. de St. Cyran was first introduced to it. His
acquaintance began with M. Arnauld d'Andilly.
M. de St. Cyran had just parted with his valued
friend Jansenius. M. d'Andilly had lost a most
revered spiritual guide in the blessed St. Francis.
Under these circumstances, a close friendship was
soon cemented between them.
When the M. Angelique came to reside at Port
Royal de Paris, the acquaintance was consequently
extended, in some measure, to her. She heard
much of M. de St. Cyran from her brother. In the
course of ten years he also called three or four
times. Not, however, being connected by any tie
of duty, their acquaintance did not appear likely to
make any farther progress.
About the year 1625, the M. Angelique was de
sired to assist the bishop of Langres in organizing
a new institution he had lately founded in honour
of the Eucharist. M. de Langres at that period
entertained a high esteem for M de St. Cyran.
On being sent for out of Paris, he therefore ap
pointed him as director of his new institution.
By this means originated that friendship which
ever after so closely united M. de St. Cyran to
Port Royal.
In M. de St. Cyran the M. Angehque seemed
again to behold the blessed St. Francis de Sales.

PORT ROYAL. 171
Till then she had mourned his loss as irreparable.
She now, for the first time, met with one whose
growth in piety was equally extraordinary. Nor
could she avoid observing, that, to the eminent
hoUness which distinguished St. Francis, M. de
St. Cyran added a strength of mental powers, a
luminous intellect, and an energy of character,
peculiarly his own. In these respects M. de St.
Cyran and the M. Angelique were especially con
genial. The abbess soon observed, that whilst
both these great men seemed to possess a piety
equally fervent, that of the latter seemed far the
most enlightened.
The effects which these excellent men produced
on the Arnauld family, were exactly those which
might have been expected from the diflerence of
their characters.
From their intimacy with St. Francis, they had
rather received deep religious impressions, than
acquired clear religious views. Many years had
elapsed since his death, and, at the time of their
acquaintance, the younger part of this numerous
family were quite children. Hence they had been
rather distinguished for warm devotional feelings, a
respect for piety, and a horror of immorality, than
for that distinct light which enabled them at once to
enter upon a religious course of life, and steadily to
pursue it.
Their intimacy with M. de St. Cyran exactly
supplied that which had before been wanting. He
became the means, not only of awakening, but of
enlightening their consciences. He clearly pointed

172 MEMOIRS OF
out to them the grand essentials of Christian doc
trine. From these emanated a clear hght, which
distinctly showed the path of Christian practice.
The pious impressions of this excellent family had
lived unquenched amidst the evil contagion of the
Avorld. What might not now be expected, when
placed under the immediate influence of two such
powerful characters as the M. Angelique and the
Abb^ de St. Cyran ?
One of the M. Angelique's nephews, M. le Maitre,
had, at a very early age, obtained a very high repu
tation for eloquence. He was esteemed, at five
and twenty, the first advocate of the age. All
France thronged to hear him plead.
His brother, M. de Sericourt, had obtained much
military reputation. They Av-ere scarcely thirty,
Avhen they suddenly quitted the world, and with
drew into the most profound retirement. Here
they mourned with the most unfeigned sorrow over
their past sins, and spent their whole time in devo
tion and in acts of charity. M. Claude Lancelot,
and many other young men who were intimate with
M. de St. Cyran, became influenced in the same
manner, and joined their party.
At the end of a few months they found their
house at Paris too small to accommodate their
numbers. They determined to go to Port Royal
(les Champs, and take possession of the monastery
the nuns had abandoned about fifteen years before.
This occurred in 1638.
At Port Royal des Champs they found every
thing bearing marks of the most complete desola-

PORT ROYAL. 173
tion. The lakes, for Avant of draining, Avere con
verted into noxious marshes, OA^ergrown Avith reeds
and other aquatic plants ; they continually ex
haled the most pestilential vapours. The grounds
Avere, in many parts,, completely overflowed. The
'gardens were not only overgrown with weeds and
brushwood, but the very walks were infested Avith
venomous serpents. The house was in a completely
dilapidated and ruinous condition. Great part of
it indeed had fallen down.
The hermits were not, however, to be deterred
by trivial inconveniences. Many of them were
young men of the first families in France, yet they
did not disdain to labour Avith their own hands.
The little company joyfully set to work, and the
aspect of the valley was soon transformed. The
surface of the swampy morass soon exhibited a
clear lake, whose waters reflected the hills around,
crowned with thick forests of oak. The tangled
brush-wood, which choked up the avenues to the
house, was felled. The spacious gardens blossomed
as the rose; and the walls of Port Royal arose
from the ground, amidst hymns of prayer and shouts
of praise.
New associates were continually quitting the
world and joining themselves to this little band.
After a short period it became a numerous and
flourishing society. Regular plans, and an orderly
distribution of employments, were soon found neces
sary to the well being of the whole.
The recluses of Port Royal, unlike religious or
ders, were not bound by any vows. Each, neA'-er-

174 MEMOIRS OF
theless, sought to imitate his Lord, and folloAV his
steps, by a life of voluntary poverty, penance, and
self-denial. They assumed the dress of no par
ticular order; yet they were easily distinguished
by their coarse and plain, but clean clothing.
Their time was divided between their devotions
to God, and their services to men. They all met
together several times, both in the day and night,
in the church. Twice each day also, the whole
company attended the refectory. Some hours
were occupied by each in their OAvn cells, in medi
tation, in private prayer, and in diligently reading
and comparing the holy Scriptures, which they
always did, in the attitude, as well as in the spirit
of prayer; and to which exercise they devoted a
portion of time every day.
Their directors always advised them "to begin
by studying the holy Scripture itself, Avithout any
commentary, only seeking for edification." They
were in the habit also of ahvays reading Scripture
with a reference to parallel passages, Avithout which
they conceived it could only be very imperfectly
understood. " They also read the New Testament
oftener than the Old, because they considered the
former as the best explanation of the latter. The
whole however of Scripture they were advised to
read in the spirit of prayer and supplication.
"In short," continued their venerable director,
"draw continually from this pure source; the
sacred Avaters have this peculiarity, that they pro
portion and accommodate themselves to the wants
of every one ; a lamb may ford them without fear.

PORT ROYAL. 175
to quench his thirst ; and an elephant may swim
there, and find no bottom to their depths." " A
bishop of these latter times declared, that he would
go to the ends of the world with St. Augustin ;
but I Avould go there Avith the Bible." " 0 that I
could but impress my heart with a fuller sense of
the sacred respect, Avith which that sacred volume
should ever be perused."
But, above all, the inhabitants of Port Roj'al
were taught to search the Scriptures with a super-
eminent view to Him of whom they testify. " The
true use of the written word," said the same vener
able pastor, "is to lead us to the living Avord,
which alone can invigorate and cure our souls,
just as the steady contemplation of the brazen ser
pent could alone cure the wounds inflicted by the
fiery serpents." " The more we attach ourselves
with singleness of eye, to contemplate Christ upon
the cross, and his wounds, which are the cure of
ours, the more benefit shall we receive from that
divine power, which flows from him to us, in order
to bring us back to Him, who is alone our strength
and our rest." " Jesus Christ himself must be our
light and our strength." " The sufferings of Christ
are all our merits and plea; they are the source
of all the mercies and graces we receive ; it is by
them only that we become living members of
Christ Jesus." "Let us then establish the edifice of
our salvation on the truth of Christ, which alone
is the immutability of the rock, and not upon the
shifting and delusive sands of our own thoughts,
fears, or frames."

176 MEMOIRS OF
"Our confidence must be firm," as St. Paul
saj-s, " because it is grounded on the virtue of the
blood of Christ, Avhich is infinite." " It is faith
alone which inspires Avell grounded confidence.
We trust, because Christ himself is our trust, Avho
teaches us that our salvation is his glory ; and
that in saving us, he saves the price of his death,
and the fruit of his sufferings." " The cross of
Christ is an abundant and a superabundant source
of mercy; the cross of Christ alone it is Avhich
sanctifies, not only the blessed virgin and St.
John, but also the penitent thief and Mary Mag
dalen. The one no longer considered that he was
a robber, nor the other that she was a sinner.
They only considered those fountains of blood
which poured from the body of Jesus Christ, as
fully sufficient to droAvn, as in a holy deluge, the
sins of the whole world. There they looked, and
looking, found their cure."
" We indeed are, by the natural creation of
Adam, nothing but sin, ingratitude, and pride;
and we see nothing in ourseh'es but subjects of
guilt, condemnation, and remorse. But AA'hatever
be the truth of our view of our state by nature, a
view of that alone can produce pusillanimity, and
lead to despair. But that faith, by a A'ital recep
tion of which we are Christians, and by Avhich Ave
are distinguished from the angels of darkness,
after showing us this ground of corruption and sin,
which ought profoundly to humble us, shoAvs us
with it the infinite mercy of God, founded upon
the blood of Jesus Christ, as mediator and recon-

PORT ROYAL, 177
ciler of men Avith God, who is thus become our
trust and our cure, and in which alone, according
to St. Paul, consists the mystery of the Christian
religion. We must then unite these two views,
Avhich ought never to be separated ; the -view of our
selves and our sins, and the view of Jesus Christ
and of his merits. The first terrifies, the second
re-assures. The first deeply humbles, the second
elevates, with what St. Austin terms a holy pre
sumption ; 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 from
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 interiorly ;
that I am destitute of every good thing : but, 0
my God, thou hast undertaken to cure me. God
alone can be the physician of the soul. The blood
of God alone can be our remedy; the Spirit of
God can alone achieve our cure."*
Such Avere the sentiments of the inhabitants 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.
* Saci's Letters, vol. ii. pp. 677 and 678. — The whole included
in commas of quotation, is a translation 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 twehe
vols, of Tourneaux's Instructions on the same, as specimens of
the great anxiety of the Port Royalists to diffuse Scriptural
instruction.
Vol. I 23

178 memoirs of
The remainder of their time was taken up in
labours of love for their fellow-creatures. Yet in
these was the greatest regularity observed. They
did not attempt to do each what was right in his
own eyes ; but each filled up that occupation for
Avhich it was judged his talents were best fitted.
Every one of these recluses was under the direc
tion 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
immediate direction, guided both the houses of
Port Royal. By this means, M. de St. Cjrran
AA'as acquainted with the character of every indi
vidual in each of the houses. EA'^ery 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
permit them to murmur at any appointment, hoAV-
ever low. Each one rather esteemed it an honour
to be employed in any way for his Lord.
The acts of mercy which occupied the recluses,
were divided into two departments; the internal
concerns, which related to their own community,
and the external ones, which regarded the public
at large ; again, some of their occupations de
manded intellectual, whilst others only required
bodily labour. Such, however, was the mercy of
God, that persons were abundantly supplied,
suited to every necessity; and so great was the
humility of the recluses, that each, with thankful-

PORT ROYAL. 179
ness, accepted 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 labour,
some in assisting the poor, and others in study.
They cultivated the farms and gardens; they re
paired the house, and supplied every article of
clothing amongst themselves. There were car
penters, ploughmen, farmers, gardeners, glaziers,
shoemakers, and vine dressers, whose accurate
Avorkmanship appeared as though they had never
practised anything else ; yet the recollection and
devotion visible in their countenances, marked
them as saints, and their manners betrayed them
as natives 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 reconcile differences
amongst their poorer neighbours. Four of the
recluses who practised as physicians, were solely
occupied in visiting the poor. Two of them be
came the most eminent practitioners of their age.
Some supplied the pulpit, and ministered to the
spiritual wants of their brethren. Considerable
numbers 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 their children. Distinct es
tablishments were formed for the poor and the
rich.

180 MEMOIRS OF
Meantime the fame of Port Royal became
more widely diffused. Many noblemen and gen
tlemen of fortune entreated the pious and learned
recluses, to undertake the education of their
children. Several 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 ac
commodation. Many of these little establish
ments 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 eminently distinguished. The plan
of Tillemont's immense and labourious works was
traced out and arranged at the early age of nine
teen, whilst he was yet at the school of Chenet.
Some of the finest verses in Racine's tragedies
Avere meditated, whilst a boy at school, in the
woods of Port Royal. Others of the recluses
occupied 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 account of the saints, issued from the

PORT ROYAL. 181
solitudes of Port Royal. The controversial and
theological works of Arnauld, the thoughts and
lettera 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 grammars they had
drawn up for the schools obtained, and still main
tain, the universal suffrage of the learned.
In a short time, the recluses of Port Royal
became an universal theme of discourse and
admiration.

CHAPTER IV,

Port Royal des Champs. — Les Granges. — Esprit
de Port Royal, and La Mere Angelique.
In the mean while the nuns at Port Royal de
Paris had again greatly extended their numbers.
They now exceeded one hundred and eighty. It
became necessary once more to diAdde them. It
was resolved to station a detachment of the com
munity at their old habitation of Port Royal des
Champs. The rest it was determined should remain
at Paris.
The news of the nuns' intended return Avas soon
spread at Port Royal. The Avhole neighbourhood
CAdnced the greatest joy. It was delightful agam
to see them, after twenty-five years' absence.
The recluses used every exertion to prepare the
house and gardens. They put them in the best
order for their friends. Their OAvn books and
furniture were soon packed up. On the morning
of the very day the nuns were expected, they re
moved from the monastery. They took possession
of a farm-house belonging to it, which Avas situated
on the top of the hill.
The M. Angehque was at that time abbess by
election. She came herself to establish the nuns
(182)

PORT ROYAL. 183
hi their former habitation. On the day she was
expected, all the poor flocked to the monastery,
in their best clothes. As soon as the long file of
carriages appeared through the woods at the top
of the hill, they all went to meet her. The bells
AA'ere immediately rung ; shouts of joy, and excla
mations of pleasure resounded on all sides. The
procession stopped ; then the poor with tears im
plored their, good mother's benediction. She ten
derly embraced them. At the 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 intercourse, though so
nearly related, but by letter. Nevertheless, both
the communities might be considered as forming
one body. Both were under the same spiritual
direction. Each was animated by one and the same
spirit. The recluses continued all their former occupa
tions; they conducted the farms and gardens,
and performed every other laborious office. The
nuns superintended girls' schools, educated young
Avomen, fed and clothed the poor, instructed their
own sex, and nursed the sick. These two societies
(which together contained eighteen of the Arnauld
family) were yet more closely united by grace.

184 MEMOIRS OF
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 throughout the
whole extent of Catholic Christendom, had estab
lished a higher reputation than Port Royal, or was
more eminent, either for the sanctity or erudition
of its members.
Nor was the female part of the establishment 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 constantly reigned
wdtliin. The gravity and liturgic simphcity, and yet
touching and chastened pathos with which the
praises of God were sung, and the profound
reverence and devotion with which the service
Avas performed, touched the heart of every person
who visited this seclusion. Even the minute
details of divine service, the neatness, order, and
regularity, of their choir ; the solemn and im
posing grandeur of architecture, which charac
terised the church; and the perfect plainness
Avhich distinguished all the vestments 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 parlours, the
discretion and modesty of the nuns, their polite
and kind attention to those who had occasion to

PORT ROYAL. 185
speak to them, and their total absence of curiosity
respecting all that was transacted in the world,
formed a theme of universal admiration and eulo
gium. 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, hoAV 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 industr}',
inspired by charity, and continued without inter
mission or relaxation; of prayer without any
suspension; of faith, bearing continual and abun
dant 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 most
humiliating offices. No impatience was to be dis
covered in the sisters, nor any caprice in the mo
thers; and it might be truly said, that in this
blessed community, Christian love burnt with a
bright, a burning, a clear and steady flame; alike
rendering obedience prompt, command reasonable,
and dcA'otion to God, all in all.
But nothing ever approached to the complete and
entire disinterestedness, which so eminently charac
terised Port Royal : and which, from the abbess to
the last of the servants, glowed as one soul, with an
open and munificent generosity.
Vol. I. 24

186 MEMOIRS OF
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 was once entered into for the
dowry of the nuns. Novices were fetained 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 w-ere
received to profession, and an arrangement was
made with them as to the day when the ceremony
should take place.
The profession being made, unconditionally, if
the parents were not rich, no donation under any
pretext was allowed ; if they were, whatever they
chose to offer was received as an alms : and a very
considerable part of this alms was always reserved
to distribute either amongst destitute famihes, 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
Avhat rendered it remarkable was, that at the very
time the attorney was draAving out the deed of
gift, the steward of Port Royal, who Avas ig
norant of the transaction, came to consult him
liOAV to raise money on the rents not yet due,
the house being at that time in the most urgent
distress. Never did the rank or obscurity, or the Avealth
or poverty of a novice, enter into the calculation of
the Mere Angelique.

PORT ROYAL. 187
She was never more delighted, than when girls
presented themselves in a state of the most desti
tute 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 receive."
Once a lady of very high rank and great wealth,
made a donation to Port Royal of a benefaction of
eighty thousand livres; requesting it might be
used in order to liquidate the heavy debts Avhich
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 neces
sary, 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 postulants. Many
ladies also boarded in the monastic precincts, and
had apartments there, so that the buildings re
quired were very considerable.
The money was appropriated according to the
lady's direction. She soon after became a boarder
in chambers at Port Royal, without at first enter
taining any other desire than that of ending her
days in the house, without taking the vows. In
process of time, however, she Avished to take the
»¦ eil. She was then admitted to the noviciate ;

188 MEMOIRS OP
during which time she passed through the same
trials as all other novices. The two years being at
length expired, she urged her reception to make
her profession. The M. Angelique and her nuns
clearly foresaw the serious difficulties to which
they might be exposed, if they refused her ; ncA'^er-
theless, as they were convinced in conscience that
she had not a sufficient vocation, she was unani
mously rejected.
The lady quitted the convent in sore displeasure,
and immediately resolved to reclaim her donation.
Had they allowed it to proceed to a trial, the nuns
would have infallibly retained the whole ; but they
preferred touching her heart by a bright example,
to maintaining their own indisputable right.
The abbess immediately sold some rents at a
heavy loss ; they retrenched every expense that
Avas not absolutely necessary, and borrowed some
money at high interest, to raise this enormous
sum; which by great exertions, and very great
deprivations, they finally accomplished. It was
restored to the lady by a notary, in presence of M.
le Nain, father of M. Tillemont, and Master of
Requests, and of M. Palluau, counsellor of par
liament ; both of whom openly declared, that they
Avere as much charmed with the spirit and disin
terestedness of Madame de Port Royal and her
nuns, as they were ill edified by the mean, vindic
tive, and self-interested conduct of their pretended
benefactress. Tavo young ladies, who Avere sisters, once pre
sented themselves for admission at Port Royal.

PORT ROYAL. 189
The eldest had a fortune of a thousand crowns
left her by her godmother; the other had abso
lutely nothing. Both were well disposed young
persons, and conducted themselves so well, Avhilst
postulants, as to be received into the noviciate.
But on trial, the same vocation was not recognized
in them both ; the one who had the thousand
crowns was received to profession, and the one who
had nothing was sent back ; but she received as a
dowry the thousand crowns of her sister.
Whenever the M. Angelique found herself
obliged to dismiss postulants, or novices for pro
fession as lay sisters, (and who consequently-
belonged to a station in which they depended on
their own labour,) she never permitted them to
quit the monastery, 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 monastery
of Port Royal, with respect to noAdces, was pro
bably one cause of the very strong attachment
the nuns always felt for that house, and the
honour they always considered it to be received
to profession.
One day, a gentleman of rank being come on
business to Port Royal, asked to speak to the
Mere Angelique de St. Jean, Avho was at that time
abbess. She, being engaged at that moment in
giving particular orders, sent another nun to sup
ply her place for a few moments, till she should
have despatched the concerns which detained her.

190 MEMOIRS OF
The gentleman began speaking of the monastery.
In answer to his inquiries, the nun spoke during
the whole time of nothing but her profound
gratitude to that house, for the very great charity
and indulgence it had shown in receiving her to
profession. The gentleman to whom she spoke,
concluded her to be some poor, indigent, friend
less girl, received on charity, which he knew was
very frequent at Port Royal. At this juncture,
the abbess entering the parlour, the nun rose and
retired. After having made his compliments, and
despatched the business on which he came, 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 parlour, for the
charity that house had shown her ; and that it was
a double subject of edification, to see the perfect
disinterestedness of their house, in thus receiving
poor girls gratuitously.
The abbess was at first totally at a loss to com
prehend what he meant, but afterwards recollect
ing the nun who was just gone, she told him with
a smile " that the supposed poor girl, was the lady
Magdalena,* of St. Christina, Briquet, sole heiress,
* Author of some of " Les Vies Edifiantes, and editor of Lettres
Spirituelles do Sacy." She was the most intimate friend of the
Countess Eustoquie de Flescelles 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, the

PORT ROYAL. 191
at an early" age, of the immense succession of the
celebrated M. Bignon, Advocate general of France,
and of the very considerable fortune of her father,
M. Briquet, Master of Requests. That in truth,
defence of the whole house. Their fortitude under the rigorous im
prisonment they endured was equally admirable. They were
celebrated also for the ready wit, with which they often disarmed
their persecutors.
Threats, persecutions, and close imprisonments, having been
tried for several years in vain, it was determined to send a rela
tion of Madame de Bregy' s, who had a place at court, to urge her
to sign the formulary. The Countess accordingly drove over,
one morning, from the levee at Versailles, in full dress, to enter
into a theological discussion with the nun. The lady, after pre
facing her discourse with the wishes of the court, the evils to her
family of losing court-favour, came to religious motives; here,
however, she found herself not so much at home ; and after a
few vain attempts, cut 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, ' Woman'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 her leave.
Another time, after various imprisonments, and other persecu
tions, and various discussions on the part of the Archbishop of
Paris, (who it must be remembered is Metropolitan of France,)
he being out of all patience, at length exclaimed, " Whether you
believe the formulary or not, do but sign, and I am willing to
bear the sin, if it be one, for you ;" to which she replied, bowing
with good-humoured archness, "Pardon me, my Lord, I should
be too much grieved to add to your grace's heavy incumbrances,
the least additional burthen." See the lives of these ladies in the
Necrol. Clem. Bes. Poul. and the Vies Edifiantes, &c. &c.

192 MEMOIRS OF
she had brought to the house immense AA'ealth;
and that she was a lady equally distinguished for
her solid understanding, her strength of character,
and her literary and musical talents, as for her
piety and humility. »
The spirit of disinterestedness and generosity
Avhich animated Port Royal, from the establish
ment of the reform to the very last hour of its
existence, was amongst the blessed fruits of the
Mere Angelique, and was originally inspired by
her example.
This admirable abbess truly had her affections
set on things above ; her peace w-as therefore never
disturbed by temporal misfortunes, nor her de
sires excited by merely temporal goods.
She might eminently be said, to be wholly void
of that covetousness which is idolatry. Her soul
being fixed on God, the fluctuation of all created
goods ne\'er shook the foundation of her peace.
And the spirit of piety and disinterestedness pro
duced that perfect tranquillity of mind, which the
Mere Angelique 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.
This accident having occurred on Sunday morn
ing, 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 amazed at the flames
and volumes of smoke, that he stood petrified, and
gazing at the spreading conflagration, in all the

PORT ROYAL. 193
stupor of fear; Avithout once thinking of calling
on the neighbours to lend their assistance. The
consequence of this panic was, that the loss was
very considerable. Besides the buildings, barns,
stables, hay-ricks, wool-stacks, wine-presses, and
all the stores, which were completely consumed;
all the poultry and cattle were destroyed, together
Avith 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, hoAvever,
heard him with perfect tranquillity, and when
he had done speaking, replied with a smile of
satisfaction, " God be praised, that this is all I
Come, brother, let us go, and immediately offer
up our fervent thanks to God, that no lives are
lost," She discovered the same calmness on another
occasion, when one night all their flocks were
ravaged by a wolf. Of this accident, M. Ar
nauld was also commissioned to inform her. " I
was going," 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
ourselves some pleasure, to counterbalance this
accident. Let all the wounded sheep be killed,
and distributed among 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."
Vol. I. 25

194 MEMOIRS OF
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 establishment amounted, annuallj^,
to about 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 performance
of any one engagement. One of the most edifying
proofs of the entire emancipation of the abbess
from the cunning spirit of this world, was the
great care she took, even in periods of the most
urgent necessities and pressing wants, to conceal
their poverty from those affluent and powerful
friends, who were the most anxiously desirous to
assist them.
" My dear daughters," said this excellent ab
bess, "we have taken a \^ow of poverty; it is not
being in truth poor, to expose our deprivations to
generous friends, whom we know to be always
ready to impart their wealth with rich abundance."
The active beneficence of the abbess was equal
to her disinterestedness.
It Avas a maxim continually inculcated at Port
Royal, that retirement and seclusion is not there
fore necessarily religious seclusion. They were
continually reminded, that persons quit the world
for various motives ; and that the dissipations and
interests which beguile or distract the heart of
worldly men, are perhaps as often renounced from
disappointment, vexation, and inactivity, as from

PORT ROYAL. 195
a genuine dedication of the heart to God : and
that even those whose motive has been pure, in
thus consecrating themselves by the vow-s of reli
gion, should continually examine themselves, to
see that they persevered in walking, 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, con
stitute 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 same internal devotion,
zeal, and singleness of heart, still continue;
Avhereas too often, the habit by which a course of
life is continued, is wholly different from 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 ourseh^es, with vainly
trusting to a dead and formal adhesion to those
works we 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 made it on the best
grounds, examine your own hearts; there is an
indolent retirement from the Avorld, which arises
from sloth; there is a selfish retirement, which
originates in a misanthropic absorption in our own
concerns ; there is a melancholy retirement, which

196 MEMOIRS OF
is grounded on disappointed self-love; and there
is a philosophic retirement, Avhich has its basis in
pride and contempt of others. Far different from
all these anti-Christian dispositions is a genuine
religious retirement. The Christian's seclusion is
fpunded on a deep experience of the corruption
and deceitfuhiess of his own heart ; nor is it de
serving of that holy name, unless whilst he comes
out from amongst worldly men, to wait upon God
in silence, and to renew his strength either in
sohtude, or by the example of his saints; he
also assiduously and dihgently labours, by his
industry and his talents, as well as in his pray
ers, 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 munificence and zeal
of its liberality and charity ; for the superiority of
the education, at once hberal and religious, which
was given to its very numerous pupils ; and which
furnished France with so great a number of cha
racters, distinguished for piety and good conduct,
alike in the world as in monastic seclusions. It
Avas, too, scarcely less celebrated for the valuable
religious and biographical works, pubhshed by
many of its members. The works of La Mere
Agnes, La M. Angehque, La M. Angehque de St.
1 Jean, Madame Madeleine, de St. Christine Bri
quet, Madame St. Euostoquie de Flescelles de
Br6gy, Madame Jacqueline de St. Euphemie
Pascal, Madame de Lign}-, and the Lettres de

PORT ROYAL. 197
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 bright examples afforded by the
lives of their authors.
It is scarcely credible how many 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 Port Royal
des Champs had regular surgeons and physicians,
on purpose to attend the poor. They were all
persons of known piety. They visited all the vil
lages round about, carrying with them medicine
and the Testament, which latter some of them
were in the habit of reading as they walked,
in order to enable them at once to become useful
physicians to the souls, as to the bodies of their
patients. Nor did the nuns merely depute others to per
form these acts of charity. They studied the chi-
rurgical art themselves, and dressed the most
loathsome wounds of the poor, with wonderful
charity and dexterity.
Instead of all those frivolous works, by which
the industry of other nuns is generally occupied,
and rendered subservient to the vanity or curiosity
of persons in the world; it was equally astonish
ing and admirable to observe with how much
industry, economy, and neatness, the nuns of
Port Royal contrived to put together the least
scraps, or bring the least remnants into use, and
to make clothing for the multitudes of poor

198 MEMOIRS OF
Avomen and children who had nothing whercAvith
to cover themselves ; and it was perfectly won
derful how, when in the midst of poverty, and
unjustly stripped of their property by persecution,
their indefatigable Christian charity furnished
them with a multitude of resources and ingenious
contrivances to assist others. God, who seeth in
secret, knows how often their largesses have been
poured out, Avith kind abundance, to the poor
without their gates, when they have deprived
themselves of their own subsistence, and given
their own bread, rather than deny others; and
God, who doth see in secret, shall assuredly one
day reward them openly.
In all these respects, the M. Angehque herself
set the example to her nuns.
She had a peculiar and admirable talent in nurs
ing, consoling, and beneficially influencing the
sick. She visited them, watched over them, and
found time to render them the very meanest ser-
A'ices, even with her own hands. Nor did she only
assist them in slight illnesses ; far unhke the lax
morality of the present day, her truly divine zeal
led her to visit those equally Avho laboured under the
most contagious disorders. The most loathsome
Avounds, the most infectious diseases, and the most
malignant fevers never deterred her from attend
ance ; and she continually nursed persons suffering
under their influence herself.
It might be justly said of her, that death had
lost its sting; and hence she Avas enabled to
follow the injunction of inspiration; and as Christ

PORT ROYAL. 199
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 bestow
ing ample charities amongst the poor, but taking,
and placing out, and providing for their orphan
children. Within the inclosure of the monastery, she
erected a very large infirmary, where the poor
Avomen and children of the neighbourhood were
nursed in sickness, and had medicines dispensed
to them; or their wounds properly dressed, if
they were surgical cases. The abbess often bled
them with her own hands.
She had an obedience established in the con
vent, expressly for the purpose of clothing the
poor, 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 without 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
obediences were exhausted, the M. Angehque took
the linen of the monastery, from their several
obediences, and had it made up for the poor;
teaching the nuns to deprive themselves of it, rather
than let the poor go without.
One great end and duty of a monastic institu
tion, is, she said, to help the poor who have no
other help ; if, therefore, we fail in that, Ave do not
fulfil one great end of our vocation.

200 MEMOIRS OF
The M. Angehque not only zealously inculcated
the principles of charity; but her prudence con
templated the means, by which it can be effica
ciously reduced to practice.
She therefore had all her nuns instructed in the
strictest economy ; she allowed nothing to be lost,
but had the least remnants turned to account.
Nay, the charity of this eminent Christian was so
fervent, that, when the house was in great straits,
she has been known to part with all the church-
plate of both houses, even down to the very silver
lamps and candlesticks; nay, she has even taken
the very napkins off the altar, to make clothes, or
bind up the wounds of the poor.
The M. Angelique was not only a decided, but
an elevated Christian. A person of a grand and
comprehensive mind ; who knew when to sacrifice
the appendages of religious profession, to the im
mutable principles of religion itself.
The spirit of this excellent abbess pervaded her
whole community. At the very period above
mentioned, the great necessities of their own
house being the subject of conversation, a sister of
the M. Angelique, who was also a nun at Port
Royal, was present, and having gone through her
relation, terminated it by saying, with a counte
nance beaming with benevolence, "Well! 1 do
not think there is any one thing in the world, that
can give one such lively pleasure, as to assist those
who are in want. And yet, perhaps after all there
is, however, one still more elevated; which is to
have given aAvay e\-erything, and to afford the

PORT ROYAL. 201
same pleasure to children of God, by receiving
Avhat our good Lord chooses 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 tradesmen, whom 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 hand from whence thev
came. Several families she completely main
tained, 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 per
sons, both the M. Angelique and all other abbesses
of Port Royal, always appropriated a tenth both of
their income, and of all the donations they re
ceived, either to charitable institutions, or to
distressed but pious religious communities. If it
so happened that these rents or donations came at
a moment of such pressing necessity that it was
impossible to reserve them, the procuratrixf en-
* See, for almost all the preceding articles of charity and dis
interestedness, Besogne, tom. i. p. 56 — 72, and many others as
striking. -j- The Procuratrix is the nun who pays the bills, keeps the
Vol. L 26

202 MEMOIRS OF
tered it as a debt in her account book, and it wa?
paid as soon as possible.
It was a very frequent observation of the M.
Angelique, 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.
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 Inno
cent Fai, used always to eat the bran bread made
for the dogs, in order to give his own portion to
the poor. Being possessed of a little piece of land,
he sold it for four hundred livres : one hundred he
gave to deliver a prisoner, and the remaining
three hundred he gave out to poor families in
Aveekly 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 of, he begged a friend to
distribute them 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

stores, and transacts the business of the monastery. Something
between a house-steward and a housekeeper.

PORT ROYAL. 203
the stable, and shutting the door, spend his leisure
in prayer ; pretending if any one came in and sur
prised him kneeling, to look for something, as
though he had dropped it in the litter between the
horses. Pe also used to be very diligent in read
ing Scripture, and the nuns having given him a
little room of his own with a key, he used to shut
himself up there, and copy out passages of Scrip
ture, that he might learn them by heart. These
he repeated as he pursued his daily labour, and
they formed the subject of his conversation with
his ellow-servants and with the poor. He always
went very thinly clad, and literally fulfilled the
precept ; " let him that hath two coats impart to
him that hath none." One winter he passed
without shoes and stockings, having spent all his
money, and having stripped himself of them to
give to a poor old woman whom he saw as he was
working out of doors. A gentleman one day,
seeing him in this condition, told him " he was a
great fool," and asked him, "where he had learnt
to strip himself in this manner?" he replied, "in
the Bible." " You are an ignorant, stupid fellow,"
returned the gentleman, "and misunderstand it.
You are the first poor person for whom you should
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 supply our real wants, but Providence ; and if
we do not submit our desires to him, we may, in
the midst of wealth, not only suffer from real

204 MEMOIRS OF
wants, but be tormented by the multitudes of
factitious ones. Death will come, and when
it does come, the conscience would be more
tormented by superfluity, than the body by
want." The M. Angelique de St. Jean, who traces the
character of Innocent Fai, in the Necrologe de
Port Royal, adds, " It is remarkable 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 re
cluses of Port Royal ; men whose education was in
courts, whose names on earth were amongst the
princes of the land, and in heaven who were en
rolled amongst the saints. His funeral was
attended with honour by a large community, whose
numbers and whose names were equally calculated
to bestow rehgious or worldly respect on his
remains. It is equally remarkable, that the gentleman
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 fiown 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 pronounced his doom to the in
different ears of strangers. Then he found that
the hand of unattached servitude, which alone
relieves the wants of the ungodly rich, is colder

PORT ROYAL. 205
than that with which casual charity relieves the
poor. But Avhether he died the death of the just,
his nearest relatives did not leave their scenes of
dissipation to inquire.
One of the chief excellencies of Port Royal, and
one Avhich perhaps the most excited envy against
it, was the admirable education bestowed upon
children. It Avas equally luminous, judicious,
and religious. Never was there any asylum, in
which the comparatiA^e innocence and purity of
childhood, and early youth, remained more com
pletely unsullied by the contamination of the
Avorld; nor in which the education was better
adapted to the A^arious ages and talents of the
jmpils intrusted to their care. This institution,
far unlike most schools under the care of monas
teries, did not confine its care to the merely
innocent habits, which arise from not being ex
posed to the society of the vicious. The truths of
Christianity were solidly and luminously taught.
The Scriptures, and the psalter, Avere not only
diligently studied and explained, both in French
and Latin, but they Avere read in the attitude of
prayer : they were preceded by a solemn prayer
for divine assistance to understand and apply the
Aveighty truths they revealed ; and they were
succeeded by a pause of meditation and self-exami
nation. The church liturgy was also taught and
explained, both in Latin and in French.
The lessons of piety which the young ladies of
Port Royal receiA'^ed, were still farther impressed
upon their hearts, not only by the examples of the

206 MEMOIRS OF
nuns, who were appointed to be their instructors;
but by the practice of a large and pious commu
nity, solely occupied in praising God, and in
serving him in their neighbour. But the education
of Port Royal did not merely confine itself to re
ligious principles ; it embraced every detail of re
ligious practice ; habits of not only acting, but
feeling, kindly and respectfully toAvards others; of
being at once discreet and sincere; in short, the
Avhole 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 educa
tion ; very great assiduity was used in improving
and strengthening the understanding, in giving
habits of mental activity, and habits of prompt
voluntary exertion of the mind. The minds of
the pupils of Port Royal, Avere sohdly and
thoroughly cultivated; and where they perceived
the germ of peculiar talents, the education they
received under the sisters of the Pascals, Arnaulds,
&c., was far different indeed from that, which any
public system of education ever elsewhere afforded
to ladies. Where this distinction was not per
ceived, the education of Port Royal was equally
calculated to render them accomplished mistresses
of distinguished families, or perfect and devoted
nuns. The same spirit of devotion and piety was
inculcated in either case.
It Avould be very easy to cite a prodigious num
ber of young ladies educated in these monasteries,
Avho have since edified the world, the court, or

PORT ROYAL. 207
the cloister, by their wisdom, piety, and talent.
It is well known with what sentiments of admira
tion, gratitude, 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.
Perhaps it would be difficult 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 shortness of our limits alone
prevents its finding a place in these pages.
We will not, however, close this subject, with
out observing, that although many treatises on
education have appeared in modem 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
knowledge of the human heart, or reality of ex
perience, the luminous " Reglemens des Enfans,"
composed by the M. Agnes. Nor is it to be for
gotten, that whilst the press teems with numberless
theories, proposing plans of education, this little,
but inestimable work, details a system which has
beeii tried, and that with unexampled success, for
above sixty years; and which, at the end of a
hundred and fifty years, still entitles its venerable
author to the re\-erence due to transcendent piety,
and the admiration due to supereminent talent.

208 MEMOIRS OF
The portion of this Avork, on the spirit in Avliich
Christian instructors should undertake education,
and the principles on which they should proceed,
is surely well worth the study of all those Avho
imdertake or promote the education of children.
Nor ought we to forget, in closing our list of
the charities of Port Royal, the spiritual blessings
Avhich were so abundantly diffused by the exten-
siA^e 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, Avas no less remark
able, than the liberality with which it distributed
help to others.
The instances of Avholly unexpected and oppor
tune donations at moments of distress, when their
only refuge was in united prayer, which are re
corded in its annals, are equally remarkable and
edifying. Although the estates, Avith which the
monastery was endowed, only produced the annucal
rent of seven thousand livres ; and that the neces
sary expenses of the house amounted to nearly ten
times that sum ; yet the M. Angelique often said,
she never had felt a moment's anxiety, and that
she never had entered into any necessary expense
for her community, or engaged in any incumbent
Avork of charity, but the Providence of God had,
in the issue, sent her wliercAvith amply to defray
it. She therefore Avent on giving, whilst she had
a quarter of a croAvn in the house, when she was

PORT ROYAL. 209
asked by the truly necessitous ; and not turning
away from those who would borrow of her, or dis
tressing herself with anxious thoughts for the mor
row, what they should eat, what they should drink,
or wherewithal they should be clothed ; and the
event abundantly fulfilled the word, that God kncAV
they had need of all these things.
They sought first the kingdom of God and his
righteousness, and without anxious cares on their
part, all these things were richly added unto
them. Often, indeed, they suffered temporary want;
but in the end. Providence poured in assistance
Avith such ample abundance, that it appeared as
though the Lord, whom they so disinterestedly-
served, and so faithfully trusted, returned into the
bosom of this holy house an hundred fold, for all
the wealth they scattered with so munificent a
generosity. Exclusive of the presents continually sent them,
of articles of supply, and present consumption of
the house, immense donations were, from time to
time, made to the monastery.
Amongst others, M. Arnauld, father of the M.
Angelique, who bore so prominent a part in the
" Journee du guichet," laid out immense sums, not
only in repairing and re-establishing the ancient
buildings of Port Royal; but, to show his entire
acquiescence in that seclusion he had so much
opposed, he, at his oAvn expense, encircled all the
monastic inclosure, vrith the strong stone wall by
which it is now bounded ; the old one, which had
Vol. I. 27

210 MEMOIRS OF
been raised of earth, being decayed and sunk
everywhere, and, in some places, no traces of it
remained. Madame Arnauld, his widow, as it was before
observed, purchased the magnificent hotel de
Clagny, for the establishment of Port Royal de
Paris. The purchase money of which alone,
independently of the fitting up, cost twenty-four
thousand livres. The Marchioness of Aumont
defrayed the expense of erecting the church, and
refitting the interior of the house. The Princesse
de Guimenee, and the Marchioness of Sable, con
jointly built the cloisters and the sacristy. They
also contributed, with the Marchioness of Acqua-
viva, the celebrated Marchioness of Sevign^, Ma
dame le Maitre, and the Baroness of Guenegaud,
in erecting many distinct piles of buildings in the
courts, for school-houses, infirmaries, store-houses,
and offices ; houses for ladies who boarded in the
establishment, &c. &c.
Besides this assistance, very considerable acces
sions accrued to the property of Port Royal, from
the families of several of the nuns, or the donations
of those ladies of independent fortune, who took
the A^eil there; as the Marchioness of Chaze, the
Countesses de St. Ange, de Rubentel le Camus, the
Lady Madeleine Briquet, her friend the Countess of
Bregy, &c. &c.
Madame de Bardeau alone, gave thirty thousand
livres. The monastery of Port Royal receiA^ed also fre
quent legacies from the recluses, who died at Les

PORT ROYAL. 211
Granges; M. M. le Maitre de Sericourt, and de
Saci, left the monastery their whole possessions.
M. Benoise, counsellor of the parliament, and M.
Briquet, Advocate-general of France, gave a thou
sand crowns each. The Abbe de la Potheri, a
rent upon salt of fifty crowns ; and the Queen of
Poland presented them with an agate ciborium,
estimated at four thousand crowns, besides many
other presents equally rich and valuable.
Nor did the house of Port Royal des Champs
meet with patronage less munificent. It was, by
the generosity of friends, completely repaired and
refitted. Or rather, it was entirely rebuilt, and
enlarged to four times its former extent; under
the direction, and chiefly at the expense of the
Duke de Luynes, M. d'Andilly, the Marquis of
Sevigne, and M. Gue de Bagnols. The latter
expended upon it forty thousand livres, besides a
rent of six thousand livres, with which he endowed
the monastery in perpetuity. The Duke de
Liancourt, the Duchess his wife, and M. de
Luzanci, each gave a donation of ten thousand
livres, and the Marquis de St. Ange all his for
tune. The Duke of Pontchateau, also, made very
considerable donations to Port Royal. The Duke
de Luynes built the mansion of Vaumurier, which
he afterwards presented to Port Royal ; and M de
Liancourt erected a large range of buildings in
the court, for the reception of those guests whose
piety led them to renew their strength, by a tem
porary seclusion amongst the inmates of Port
Royal. The Duchess of Longueville built a noble

212 MEMOIRS OF
house, and laid out spacious gardens within the
monastic inclosure, where she usually spent some
months in the year.
Besides these pecuniary largesses, and a multi
tude without number, of private alms continually
bestowed, by persons known and unknown, the
.domains of the monastery were very materially
increased in A^alue, by the labours of the recluses.
The farms were repaired, re-established, and
ameliorated. The stagnant waters were drained,
and formed into clear lakes, abounding with fish.
The woods, gardens, and orchards, were assidu
ously cultivated and enlarged. The fruit of Port
Royal, indeed, was celebrated for its extraordinary
size and fine flavour ; so much so, that when M.
d'Andilly annually sent presents to the Queen
Mother, Anne of Austria, Cardinal Mazarin used to
call it, " Fruit b^nit."
Such were the largesses bestowed by the friends
of piety upon Port Royal. Truly might it be said,
in this instance, that as they gave, so was it given
to them, and Avith the same measure they meted to
the distresses of others, so was it measured to them
again ; good measure, pressed down, and shaken to
gether, and running over, did men give into their
bosoms.

CHAPTER V.

Civil Wars — Horrors of tlie Antichristian Practice
of War.
In this prodigious influx of wealth, although their
establishment Avas enlarged, the nuns of Port
Royal remained unchanged; their munificence
was diffused more extensively Avithout; but the
same temperance and self-denial reigned within.
Nay, all these great additions to the monastery,
proved a means of very considerably benefiting
both the poor, and the whole neighbourhood.
The M. Angelique considered the poor, in the
manner even of conducting these buildings. She
suffered the work to be suspended, during the hay
and corn harvest, and the Adntage, when employ
ment was to be readily obtained in agriculture;
but as soon as it began to decline from that
source, and the poor were in want of work, she
collected all hands to go on with the building.
During the second war of Paris, mostly termed
the war of the princes, she was advised to desist
from these additions and improvements, till it
should be over, as the materials Avere much
increased in price ; nor could thev ever be
¦^(213)

214 MEMOIRS OF
brought, without a considerable escort, and even
then they were liable to pillage. But the M.
Angelique was not to be deterred by such con
siderations; on the contrary, she determined to
prosecute the buildings with redoubled vigour;
that she might, with masons, escorts, watches,
messengers, &c., have an opportunity of maintain
ing, by their own independent labour, double or
treble the number of persons she would have
employed in a time of peace. It is impossible to
describe the blessing this proved to the whole
neighbourhood. Not only a maintenance was by
this means afforded to an incredible number of
country people, who were literally starving, but
it was equally beneficial in preserving a multitude
of men, women, and children, (by useful occupa
tion) from falling into those habits of idleness,
A'ice, and pillage, to which they were tempted by
the misery of the times.
The expense, indeed, of the buildings, was by
these means rendered enormous.
A gentleman riding through the valley of Port
Royal, and looking at the vast piles, which consti
tuted the monastery, observed to a serA^ant whom
he accidentally met : — " These buildings, I under
stand, have cost double the sum they ought."
" Sir," returned the man, " the price did not seem
great to the nuns, since every stone was accom
panied by the benedictions of the Avhole country."
Both the monasteries and the recluses of Port
Royal, maintained a constant correspondence with
M. de St. Cyran. The spiritual instructions they

PORT ROYAL. 215
derived from him, formed the basis of the advice
they themselves gave to a numerous circle of
leligious persons, who had continual recourse to
them. Thus, even during his confinement at
Vincennes, M. de 'St. Cyran was the means of
diffusing an enlightened piety over all France.
The time was now at hand, when the generosity
and charity of these recluses became as publicly
known as the spirituahty of their writings.
Cardinal Richelieu died in 1642. The death
of Louis XIII. almost immediately succeeded
to that of his minister. Louis XIV. came to
the throne in 1643. He was not quite five years
old. His mother, Anne of Austria, was appointed
sole regent. She nominated the Cardinal Mazarin
prime minister. This choice was equally odious
to the nobility and the people. The latter found
themselves oppressed by grievous taxes ; the
former beheld Avith indignation so large a share
of power invested in a foreigner. A strong party
was formed against him by the Duke de Beaufort,
the Duke de la Rouchefoucauld, and Cardinal de
Retz. This powerful faction was headed by the
Duchesse de Longueville, sister to the great Conde.
This lady was equally celebrated for beauty,
jiccomplishments, and, above all, for political
intrigue. She soon gained over her husband,
and her brother, the Prince of Conti. They
exerted every endeavour, and used every means,
to render the royal party odious in the sight of
the people. At length they succeeded in raising
a revolt. Thei Queen, with the Prince and

216 MEMOIRS OF
minister, were compelled to flee front Paris.
Troops were raised on both sides. Madame de
Longueville now assumed the authority of ii
queen. She concerted means of placing the
capital in a situation to stand a regular siege.
This intrepid and enterprising Princess was not in
the least dismayed, when she beheld the royal
troops advance, and the capital, in which she
commanded, blockaded on every side. Her
brother, the great Prince of Cond^, contiuued
faithful to his allegiance. He led on the attack.
The Princess of Longueville, neither molhfied by
the ties of blood, nor daunted by his military
fame, as resolutely maintained the defence. Her
spirit of intrigue, furnished resources against
every exigency. At the solicitation of the rebels,
Spain lent her assistance. The Archduke, gover
nor of the Low Countries, was ready to pour into
France 15,000 men. Gained by the united in
fluence of the wit and beauty of Madame de
Longueville, the great Turenne abandoned his
duty. He took the field agaihst his soA'creign,
and turned his arms against his native country.
France was plunged into the horrors of a civil
war. Violence, rapine, and desolation, spread
over the whole country. Famine began to make
its appearanbe. Misery and iniquity pervaded
the land ; but above all, in the neighbourhood of
the besieged capital, the sufferings were extreme.
Nor did religious houses escape the horrible
ravages of a desolating war. Many of these seclu
sions Avere IcA'elled to the ground.

PORT ROYAL. 217
The abbey of St. Cyran was ransacked; and
Port Royal itself threatened with a similar visita
tion. In this emergency, their friends advised them
immediately to send the nuns to Paris, and them
selves to take possession of the monastery, and to
strengthen it by those fortifications, and to assume
themselves that military garb, which might, under
present circumstances, prove the most effectual mode
of preventing an attack.
On this occasion, one of the recluses writes as
follows : " The day of St. Mark was chosen, for
the translation of the community. Though so
many years have passed away, I seem still to see
the long procession of carriages driving from the
door, and forming a long line down the avenue.
I still remember the peace, silence, and good
order, which marked this trying hour; and seem
yet to see the Mere Angelique presiding every
where, and superintending the most minute details ;
yet with that expression of uninterrupted peace
and love which marked, that even whilst she was
diligent in business, she was yet more fervent in
spirit. " Scarcely had we watched the last carriage
down the avenue, with fervent prayers for their
preservation, than we immediately took possession
of the abandoned monastery, and after removing
into it all our furniture, we began to examine how
far it would be possible to fortify it, so as to
render its walls impervious to attack.
" It was resolved to strengthen the walls, and
to build a variety of small towers along them at
Vol. L 28

218 MEMOIRS OF
intervals, which should serve as strong-holds.
Accordingly we all set to work, and in a very few
days the whole aspect of the place was changed.
Some were occupied in digging the foundations,
others were busied in hewing stone or in handling
the trowel. From a solitude of prayer and medi
tation, Port Royal seemed suddenly transformed
into a scene of hurry and activity. Her forests
echoed to the harsh grating of the saw, or rever
berated the reiterated stroke of the woodman's
axe. Nevertheless, though the occupation was
changed, the same spirit still pervaded every
heart. Amidst the despatch of business, a heart
Avatching to prayer was written on every counte
nance. Surrounded, externally, by the horrid
alarms of Avar, an internal peace reigned in the
soul, and whilst the hands Avere diligent in earthly
concerns, the frequently uplifted eye showed that
the conversation of every heart was indeed in
heaven. And at the intervals of each stroke of
the axe, the ear caught the songs of praise, with
Avhich the recluses beguiled their hours of labour.
Often as I looked around, and as I contemplated my
companions labouring in the midst of the forests
Avhich enclosed our seclusion, it brought to my mind
the times of Esdras, when the people of God built
the walls of Jerusalem, with the sword in one hand
and the trowel in the other.
" In the mean time, however, the danger
became more pressing, and before the walls were
completed, the peaceful inhabitants of our seclu
sion Avcre sheathed in military armour. Instead

PORT ROYAL. 219
of monastic solitude. Port Royal now exhibited
three hundred warriors, armed cap-a-pee. Spears
and helmets glittered amidst the dark recesses of
her forests, and the din of arms was heard for the
first time, in a retreat so eminently consecrated to
praj'er. Yet was not the character of its inhabi
tants changed. The same devotion reigned in
their hearts, and though the occupation of their
Avorking hours was altered, those devoted to exer
cises of religion or of charity were never infringed
on. " Yet I must own, that the striking contrast
between the genuine occupations of the disciples of
the Prince of Peace, and our present life, was
painful. Scarcely had the pealing anthem ceased,
Avhen the harsh blast of the trumpet called us to
assemble in arms. The forest, which had never
echoed but to orisons, or hymns of praises, was
now disturbed by the clash of arms, and the
trampling of horses' hoofs. The wood - pigeons,
hares, squirrels, and other tribes of little animals,
which were almost tame, from the undisturbed
peace in which they lived, now started with fear
at volleys of musquetry. I remember feehng par
ticular pain, when, instead of closing our day with
prayer, the deep thunders of the cA^ening-gun re
echoed from the distant mountains; and as its
blue smoke dissipated itself over the dark and
shagged forests, the awful grandeur of the scene,
and perhaps some other secret emotion, used to fill
my soul with deep melancholy. 0 ! blessed tinie,
my heart said, when our strength was alone in the

220 MEMOIRS OP
arm of the Lord, and when without trusting to an
arm of flesh, we securely rested under his shadow !
" Yet surely arms were never wielded by hands
more pure. Whilst their armour glittered to the
sun, the gold and silver with which they were
adorned, concealed the hair-cloth and the peniten
tial shirt beneath ; and the plumes which towered
over their martial fronts, hid the tear of compunc
tion Avhich flowed down their cheeks. Whilst
the two-edged falchion glittered from their side,
the hands that wielded it were solely occupied in
pouring balm into the wounds of their afflicted
countrymen. The voices which called to arms,
were chiefly occupied in pouring forth the prayer of
faith, or the thanksgivings of divine love, by the
beds of the dying ; and the gaily caparisoned horses
that seemed so eager for the field, were solely used
in carrying food and raiment to th6 distressed. It
was an awful sight to see, in the midst- of these un
cultured solitudes, this little troop at the moment
the bell rung for prayer. In one instant every hel
met was cast upon the ground, and with their heads
uncovered, and their faces prostrate in the-dust, a
thousand hands cased in steel, were lifted in
suppliant adoration. Thus under the external
garb of war, these excellent men still served the
Prince of Peace ; and whilst their hands seemed
rough like those of Esau, their hearts and voice
still remained those of Jacob. Yet I confess I de
plored the fatal necessity by which the servants of
God assumed even the appearance of evil; and
often as we buckled on our arms, we could not re-

PORT ROYAL. 221
strain our tears and prayers to God, that he might
be pleased to do aAvay this direful necessity.
"Meanwhile our venerable minister, M. de
Saci, had not been consulted on the steps which
had been taken. He said but little, nevertheless
it Avas obvious that his heart mourned over us.
However, he contented himself with being more
than usual in retirement, and pouring out his heart
in secret before God. Tranquil and recollected
in the midst of alarms, his very aspect said to our
hearts, that he trusted not in an arm of flesh, but
in the power of the living God. And, in the
midst of three hundred armed men, M. de Saci,
unarmed, seemed a stronger defence to them than
their united force, if exerted, would have been to
Port Royal.
" M. de Saci united, in an eminent degree,
prudence with faithfulness. His deep knowledge
of the human heart, led him to see the danger of
a departure, even in appearance, from the ways of
(xOD. Yet he still waited for the proper moment
to speak, the moment at which their own ex
perience should begin to corroborate the force of
his words.
" Then, and not till then, he spoke. ' My dear
friends,' would he say, ' examine yourselves ; I
Avill not say, prove your ownselves, whether ye be
still in the faith, but try whether you increase
Avith the same increase as formerly, in the love
and knowledge of God. The enemy of our souls,
Avho is always going about seeking whom he may
devour, is pecuharly active in these times of

222 MEMOIRS OF
external disorder and danger, when the soul is in
an especial manner likely to be thrown off its
guard. Now do you find, that whilst you practise
your exercises of earthly warfare, that your heart
is solely engaged in spiritual combats? Whilst
you wield the arms of man, does your heart as
fully and as singly as formerly depend on God
alone for help ? Noav your minds are busy in
contriving so many schemes of defence, are your
hearts as completely resigned as formerly to what
ever event it may please God to send ? My dear
friends, if we would obviate the effects of public
disturbances, should we not do well to apply thi:
remedy to their primary cause ? Now, surely .
the primary cause of public judgments can be ni<
other than public sins. Whilst then we are en
deavouring, by force of arms, to extirpate the
branches, the baneful root still remains. 0, my
dear brethren, should we not be much more
effectually serving our country by spreading the
knowledge and love of the gospel, than by aiming
at the defence of any particular spot, however
consecrated ? Amongst the multitudes who have
taken up arms in this unhappy contest, how ha.'^
the country been benefited? Believe me, we
should be doing a greater service to our country,
by setting an example of humbling ourselves
before God, of confessing our sins, of walking in
his precepts, of being resigned to his will, of
trusting to his love, and therefore remaining at
peace amidst all the horrors and alarms of Avar.
CiAdl Avar is one of the most dreadful judgments

PORT ROYAL. 223
of God upon a guilty land. How is it possible
that your minds should be taken up with temporal
interests, when you ought to be solely occupied in
seeking a restoration to the divine favour? And
how can it be, that in the midst of so awful a
judgment, that should only furnish you with
amusement, Avhich ought to be the cause of .the
deepest humiliation? I know, indeed, my breth
ren, what human laws allow in such cases, nay,
what the great law of nature, the desire of self-
preservation, universally recognizes. But, my
dear friends, we are in a peculiar manner, under
divine and not human laws ; we are under obe
dience, not to nature, but to grace. Remember,
my dear brethren, the day you each consecrated
yourselves to God. If you did not then resolve to
follow the Captain of your salvation, who was
made perfect through sufferings, and if you did
not intend to haA'^e fellowship with him in those
sufferings, even to death, you are not worthy of
him'. 0 ! my brethren, how little did I expect
when I received your vows, to behold these A^erv
altars, where you pronounced them, venerable b}-
their antiquity, and by the successive generations
of saints who have for centuries surrounded them,
imbrued and defiled, for so they are, even by tlu'
mere semblance of blood and carnage. The horrors
of war are ever dreadful to the Christian mind ;
but surely this is as that abomination of desolation
spoken of by the prophet Daniel, when that which
is unclean, shall even defile the holy places and the
temple of the Most High.'

224 MEMOIRS OF
" Such were the sentiments of our rcA-erend
pastor. Nor did his children need to have them
twice repeated. Though the judgment had erred,
the heart had remained pure. Arms were banished
Port Royal. The nuns returned to their monastery.
We resumed our former occupations, and Port
Royal became, as heretofore, an house solely
dedicated to prayer and praise."
Meanwhile the horrors of war raged all around
with redoubled fury. Pillage and assassination
desolated the country on every hand. Incendia
ries and marauding parties laid Avaste the produce
of the land, and famine and pestilence depopulated
the cities.
In this hour of exigency, the inhabitants of
Port Royal proved the guardian angels of the
land. This hospitable seclusion became an
asylum to the distressed. Their Avhole attention
was turned to assist their unhappy country.
Several hundred persons were every day supplied
Avith food from this monastery. Multitudes of
sick and wounded were attended by the recluses.
They visited every part of the district, to relieve
the wants of the inhabitants, and to preach peace
and concord. Their houses were croAvded Avith
persons, who sought an asylum from the tempest.
Many of their most bitter enemies were enter
tained at Port Royal, during all the time of the
siege. The Avhole of the monastic inclosure was
crowded Avith the effects which their poor neigh
bours brought there, as to a place of safety. The
Rev. Abbess Angelique Avrites in the folloAving

PORT ROYAL. 225
terms, to one of her friends : " We are all occu
pied in contriving soups and pottage for the poor.
This is, indeed, an awful time. Our gentlemen,
as they were taking their rounds yesterday, found
two persons starved to death; and met Avith a
young woman on the very point of killing her
child, because she had no food for it. All is pil
laged around; corn-fields are trampled over by
the cavalry, in presence of the starving owners ;
despair has seized all whose confidence is not in
God ; no one Avill any longer plough or dig ; there
are no horses indeed, left for the former ; nor if there
were, is any person certain of reaping what he sows;
all is stolen.
" Perhaps I shall not be able to send you a letter ,
to-morrow, for all our horses and asses are dead with
hunger. 0 how little do princes know the detailed
horrors of war ! All the provender of the beasts
we were obliged to divide between ourselves and the
starving poor. We concealed as many of the pea
sants, and of their cattle, as we could in our monas
tery, to save them from being murdered, and losing
all their substance. Our dormitory and the chapter
house were full of horses. We were almost stifled,
by being pent up vrith these beasts. But we could
not resist the piercing lamentations of the starving
and heart-broken poor. In the cellar were concealed
forty cows. Our court-yards and out-houses are
stuffed full of fowls, turkeys, ducks, geese, and asses.
The church is piled up to the ceiling with corn, oats,
beans, and peas ; and with caldrons, kettles, and
other things belonging to the cottagers. Every time
Vol. I. 29

226 MEMOIRS OF
we enter the chapel, we are obliged to scramble over
sacks of flour, and all sorts of rubbish. The floor
of the choir is completely covered with the libraries
of our gentlemen. Ttiirty or forty nuns, from other
convents, have fled here too for refuge. Our laun
dry is thronged by the aged, the blind, the maimed,
the halt, and infants. The infirmary is full of sick
and wounded. We have torn up all our rags and
linen clothes to dress their sores. We have no more,
and are now at our wits' ends. The cold is exces
sive, and all our fire-wood is consumed. We dare
not go into the fields for any more, as they are full
of marauding parties. We hear that the abbey of
St. Cyran has been burnt and pillaged. Our own is
threatened with an attack every day. The cold
weather alone preserves us from pestilence. We are
so closely crowded, that deaths happen continually;
God, howcA^er, is with us, and we are in peace."
Such is war ! How impossible does it appear
that any Christian should be engaged in it ! How
wonderful that the perpetrators of such horrors
should be so deluded, as to imagine themselves
amongst the children of the God of love !
Port Royal continued to be distinguished for its
charity, during the whole period of the war.

CHAPTER VI.

Causes of Enmity against Port Royal. — Combination
of the Court and Jesuits against it. — Singular
event hy which it was quelled.
A SOCIETY, such as Port Royal, could not be long
without experiencing the truth of their divine
Master's declaration, that all who live godly in
Christ Jesus, shall suffer persecution. In all ages,
as in that of the primitive church, the introduction
of the gospel is hke bringing a sword on earth,
dividing between the good and bad.
At the first institution of the reform at Port
Royal, the M. Angelique had experienced some
degree of opposition. Whilst the excellent of her
order availed themselves of so bright an example,
those who remained unconverted from the error
of their ways, counted her life madness, and her
undertaking to be without hope.
The recluses had not escaped a share of the same
aspersions. M. le Maitre's conversion took place in 1638,
just before the imprisonment of M. de St. Cyran,
and the death of Jansenius. They shared in a
(227)

228 MEMOIRS OF
measure the persecution of their friends. Two
months after the recluses first arrived at Port Royal,
they had been compelled to flee from the researches
of Cardinal Richelieu. They escaped to La Ferte
Milon — there they lived concealed for some months.
After the storm was blown over, they again returned
'to Port Royal.
These pages ,are rather intended as a compendious
explanation of the nature of the institution of Port
Royal, than as an history of the persecutions, by
which it was at length destroyed.
It may suffice briefly to observe, that many
causes conspired to render the Jesuits inimical to
this institution. These causes may, perhaps, be
referred to three general heads : their enmity to
M. de St. Cyran, the grounds of which are else
where related; their jealousy of the growing cele
brity of a society, which already echpsed their
own in literary fame, — a society which already out
shone them in academical institutions, and which
threatened to do so in spiritual direction. Thirdly,
they were actuated by a determined animosity
against the family of Arnauld, the motives of Avhich
were as follows :
The grandfather of the M. Angelique had been
the most eminent advocate of his day. He was
employed by the university of Paris, in an impor
tant cause against the Jesuits. He gained his
suit. Besides this, a more recent cause of offence
took place.
The strict morality and ascetic habits of the
Jansenists, had been long interpreted as a silent

PORT ROYAL. 229
reflection on the lax principles of the casuists. A
publication of Dr. Arnauld's aggravated their
displeasure. He published a work on frequent
communion, deploring the levity with which too
many persons approach that sacred mystery. He
spoke of the necessity of producing genuine fruits
of repentance, before the seed of a living faith can
be implanted. He urged the necessity of a real
cessation from sin, and an heart-felt desire to
relinquish evil, previous to absolution. He con
cluded by observing, that no repentance could be
termed evangelical, whilst it arose solely from a
fear of punishment, unmixed with a true love of
God. The whole work was supported by ample
quotations from the Scriptures, and the Fathers of
the church.
This book created considerable alarm amongst
the Jesuits. The chief object of their society was,
to obtain unlimited power by a very extensive
spiritual direction. They especially coveted to
guide the consciences of men in power. In this
aim, their success was proportioned to their assi
duity. There were very few princes on the throne,
nobles in the realm, dignitaries in the church, or
religious houses belonging to any order, which
Avere not, either directly or remotely, under their
influence. Amidst so considerable a multitude of
the great and powerful, there were many who,
whilst they wished not to lose heaven, were yet
resolved to continue in sin. Their ghostly fathers
were hence reduced to the alternatiA'^e either of
wholly breaking with them, or finding out some

230 MEMOIRS OF
accommodating system of morality, by Avhich they
might at once retain their influence, and yet in a
measure save appearances, as it respected their own
spiritual reputation. To this end they had framed
their celebrated system of casuistic morality.
A work could not then be acceptable, the very
object of which was, to tear away every refuge of
lies. Should M. Arnauld succeed in establishing
the doctrine of penitence, they could only have a
choice of two evils. Either their reputation for
piety would sink for not requiring it ; then their
direction would not be sought : or else, if they
did exact rigorous penance, they w^ell knew that
the bulk of their flock would instantly quit them
for milder pastors.
In this difficulty, nothing remained but to brand
M. Arnauld and his work with heresy. The ex
tensive direction of the Jesuits gave them a very
wide influence, especially over the consciences of
the great. It began to be every where rumoured,
and especially at court, that a new heresy was
sprung up. That unless Port Royal was extir
pated, the most heavy judgments, and the most
signal strokes of divine vengeance, would speedily
overwhelm the land.
The Sorbonne, and all the Galilean clergy were
appealed to by the Jesuits. Rome itself was
applied to, respecting M. Arnauld's AVork.
Our Lord has declared, that the Avorld wiU love its
OAvn. A decision was accordingly given, such as
might have been expected. The Jansenists were
condemned.

PORT ROYAL 231
In February, 1656, the Jesuits obtained in the
Sorbonne, a censure of Father Cornet's five pro
positions. These celebrated propositions, it may
be remembered, had been artfully framed by the
Jesuits, and were pretended to be extracted from
the Augustinus of Jansenius. They were not,
however, contented by the honours of a triumph.
They resolved to reap some substantial fruit of
their victory. The Jesuits had long termed the
little schools of Port Royal, the seminaries of
Jansenism, and hot-bed of heresy. They now ob
tained an order from government to abolish them.
The officers of the police, accompanied by a troop
of archers, were sent to Port Royal des Champs,
Avhere they made a hst of the schools. They then
proceeded to each, and immediately turned out all
the masters and scholars, and sent all the recluses
away from Port Royal des Champs, on pain of im
prisonment. Immediately after, an order of council was
signed against the nuns. It was resolved, that
every scholar, postulant, and novice, should be
turned out of both the houses of Port Royal. This
decree had been given : it was on the point of
being carried into execution, when, by a most
extraordinary circumstance, a stop was put to the
Avhole persecution. The bare mention of this
incident cannot be omitted, because it forms an
important epocha in the history of the institution.
That its truth was equally believed by the friends,
and allowed by the enemies of Port Royal, is un
doubted; and it Avas unquestionably this belief

232 MEMOIRS OF
which arrested the arm of the secular power. It
disarmed the vengeance of a powerful and despotic
monarch ; it stayed the thunders of the Vatican ;
and it turned the tide of opinion of a whole nation.
The reader who may be curious to examine the
various authorities and evidence on which this
circumstance rests, is referred to Besogne, Clemen
cet, Gilbert, Perrier, Pascal, Necrologe, Manuel de
Port Royal ; also, Histoire du Miracle de la sainte
Epine, voyez le 3eme tom. des Memoires de Fontaine,
Notes de Nicole au 4me tom. des Lettres Provin
ciales. Racine, Histoire abregee de Port Royal.
Choiseul Memoires sur la Religion. Attestations des
Grands Vicaires de Paris sur la Miracle de la Sainle
Epine. This circumstance is so numerously at
tested by eye-witnesses, of such unsuspected piety,
and distinguished intelligence, that no person who
admits the possibility of miraculous interpositions,
can doubt it. On the other hand, it is so extraordi
nary, and so opposite to the d]perations of nature,
that no one who disbelieves in occasional superna
tural interpositions, can possibly admit it.
The circumstance alluded to, was a miraculous
cure, said to be operated on the niece of the great
Pascal. He had, some years previously, made a
decidedly religious profession, but his health hav
ing suffered from severe mental exertion, his
medical friends advised relaxation; this was the
unfortunate occasion of his total relapse into the
world. The cure of his niece put the final stroke
to his vaccinations. He became truly converted.
He was deeply impressed by the circumstances.

PORT ROYAL. 233
and wore ever after a seal, the device of which was
a crown of thorns, from which emanated rays of
light. Underneath was this motto : " I know in
whom I have believed. Scio cui credidi."
Many persons having expressed a wish that an
account of this cure had been given in the last
edition, we here insert a literal translation of one
of the numerous accounts; we give it without
note or comment. It may excite interest as being
the circumstance which suggested to Pascal his
intention of writing a work on miracles, which he
accordingly began; when his death interrupted
the design. The memoranda he had made, were
collected by his friends and pubhshed, by the well
known name of "Pensees de Pascal," or Pascal's
Thoughts.
Account of the Cure of Pascal's Niece, from Dom.
Clemencet s History of Porrt Royal. Vol. iii. pp.
367—393.* •
Marguerite Perrier, daughter of M. Perrier,
counsellor in the Court of Aides, of Clermont,
and of Gilberte Pascal, sister of the celebrated M.
Blaise Pascal, was placed at Port Royal, with her
* Several persons having expressed an opinion, that the curi
osity of this circumstance depended on the number and the
character of those attesting it, we have thought it best to comply
with their wishes, and have given other original accounts, in the
Notes at the end of the book, viz., those of the celebrated Nicole,
whose aunt was Abbess at the time; that of Fontaine, and others,
recluses at Port Koyal.
Vol. L 30

234 MEMOIRS OF
eldest sister in 1653, by their mother; who made it
her earnest endeavour to bestow on her children a
Christian education.
God was pleased to manifest his works and his
power in the person of this child. He permitted
her to be afflicted, during three years and a half,
Avith a fistula lachrymalis, in the corner of the
left eye. This fistula, which was very large
externally, had made great ravages within. The
bones of the nose became carious, and were perfo
rated to the palate; so that the discharge, which
was continual, ran down her cheeks and nostrils,
and sometimes even into the throat. Her eye was
considerably diminished, and the parts around so
diseased, that to touch her head on , that side
caused great pain. It was impossible to look at
her without shuddering; and the discharge from
the ulcer was so intolerably offensive, that the
surgeons recommended her being separated from
the other boarders in the convent; she was
accordingly placed in a separate chamber, with
one companion much older than herself, who from
motives of Christian charity, undertook to remain
Avith her. All the most celebrated oculists, sur
geons, and operators, were consulted ; but their
remedies only served to irritate the disorder.
Fearing the ulcer w-ould extend itself over the
AA'hole face, three of the most eminent surgeons
of Paris, Cressd, Guillard, and Dalence, advised
the actual cautery; without at the same time,
however, affording much hope of a cure. In
short, her state was so deplorable and so hopeless,

PORT ROYAL. 235
that whenever she was spoken of before Madame
d'Aumont, (Soeur Euphemie Pascal, M. Pascal's
sister, relates in her second letter to Madame
Perrier,) she Avished for her death, to end her suf
ferings ; and whenever miracles were mentioned,
she said, that if this disorder were to be cured, it
Avould be indeed a miracle. The opinion of the
surgeons was sent to M. Perrier, the child's father,
who immediately set out to be present at the oper
ation, and was daily expected.
It was at this period the storm was ready to
burst on Port Royal; certain intelligence was
received, that a council was to be held before the
king, to determine on the dispersion of the nuns.
The news was received on Monday, the 20th of
March, the third week in Lent ; and it was added,
that the list of their names, and of the places
of their exile, had been seen on the queen's
toilette. IntelHgence so circumstantial, of which no
doubt could be entertained, having filled Port
Royal with apprehension, the Mere des Anges,
(aunt to the celebrated Nicole,) who was then
abbess, felt severely the meditated blow; and
resorted to prayer to avert the anger of God.
" My daughter, (said she to Soeur Candide,) we
must leave everything, to devote ourselves to
turn away the displeasure of God ; for if God has
not mercy on us, the house is lost; the council
is to be held to determine on our dispersion, and
that is certain. We must avert this evil, by im
ploring day and night the mercy of God. I am

236 MEMOIRS OP
going to continue three days and three nights in
constant prayer; I shall spend these days in the
tribune, before the holy sacrament, which I warn
you of, that you may not be uneasy, or suffer me
to be interrupted." She began her retirement on
the Tuesday, from Avhich she only desisted to take
her meals, and which she resumed immediately;
after which she continued till nine at night, when
Soeur Candide prevailed on her to go to rest, but
she had hardly entered her bed, when she again
arose, and passed a part of the night in prayer.
On the morrow. Mile. Tardieu called at Port
Royal, and told Soeur Magdeleine des Anges de
Druy, that M. de la Poterie, (an ecclesiastic of
fortune and piety, who had with great pains made
a collection of holy rehcs,) had a holy thorn,
which he had exhibited to all the communities of
the fauxbourg, and that if she approved, she
would bring it to her the next day. The Soeur
Magdeleine, having repeated to the Mere des
Anges Avhat Mile. Tardieu had said, she desired
her to thank Mile. Tardieu, and M. de la Poterie,
adding that the house was not in a . situation to
permit them to have the consolation of seeing that
holy relic ; that they could only think of prayer
and supplication before God. Soeur Magdeleine
des Anges was rather mortified, and made no
reply ; but went to the Mere Agnes, who an
swered, that since the abbess had not thought it
proper, it must not be done ; that it was true
they were not in circumstances to admit of grati
fication : Avhereon Soeur Magdeleine replied, that

PORT ROYAL. 237
if it was brought, to be exposed on the Friday, at
the prayer of the passion, it would occasion no
distraction. The Mere Agnes having approved
of the proposal, told her to speak to the abbess,
who consented, telling her, that it should only be
carried during the hour, that no one should regard
it from curiosity. The Soeur Magdeleine wrote
immediately to M. de la Poterie, to request him
to send the holy relic : it was brought the 24th of
March, 1656, which fell out that year on Friday,
the third week in Lent; a day on which the
church sings, at the introduction of the mass,
these words of the 85tli psalm :* " Fac mecum
signum in honum, et viderant odio habentes me, et
pudore afficiantur, quod tu Domine, adjuveris me,
et consolatus fueris me." (In our version. Psalm
Ixxxvi. V. 17.)
For three days, the Mere des Anges had re
mained in a kind of retreat , where she continued
night and day to lift her hands to heaven, no
hope being left of help from men. But it was
the moment Avhen the interference of heaven was
to be shown for her, and her community. The
nuns having received the thorn, placed it on a
little altar in the choir, and the community had
notice to attend a procession, to be made after
vespers in honour of it. Vespers being finished,
* " 0 turn unto me, and have mercy upon me '; give thy
strength unto thy servant, and save the son of thine handmaid.
"Show me a token for good, that they which hate me may
see it and be ashamed, because thou, Lord, hast holpen me and
comforted me." — Psalm Ixxxvi. v. 16, 17.

238 MEMOIRS OP
hymns were sung, and prayers made, suited to
the mysteries of our Lord's passion. After which,
they each, according to their rank, kissed the
sacred relic, first the nuns, then the novices,
afterwards the boarders. When it came to the
turn of the little Perrier, Soeur Flavie Passart,
mistress of the novices, who had placed herself
near the grille to see these children pass, having
perceived her, could not see her so disfigured
Avithout horror, mingled Avith compassion, and
said to her : " Recommend yourself to God, my
child, and touch your bad eye with the holy
thorn," and she herself, says the Soeur Euphemie
Pascal, took the holy relic, and applied it without
reflection ; having all retired, they returned it to
M. de la Poterie.
In the evening, the Soeur Flavie, who thought
no more of Avhat she had done, heard little Perrier
say to one of her little sisters : " My sister, I have
no longer anything the matter with me, the holy
thorn has cured me ;" in fact, the Soeur Flavie,
on going near, found her left eye, that which had
been diseased, quite well, and not in the least dif
fering from the other ; although before it was in
a state that Avas painful to behold. The cure was
so perfect, that the Soeur Euphemie, her aunt,
speaking of the disorder and of the cure, says in
her letter, that it Avould now require a much
larger measure of faith, in those Avho have not
seen it, to believe she ever had the disease ; than
in those who had seen it, to believe she had been
cured in a moment, by a miracle, as great and as

port royal. 239
visible, as restoring sight to the blind. The Soeur
Euphemie adds, that in addition to her eye, she
had several other ailments connected Avith it ;
she was unable to sleep ; she had two places in
her head, where she could not bear the comb; it
was only two days since, that looking at her dis
order brought tears in her eyes, and the smell was
very offensive. At present there are no more re
mains of it, than if it had never existed. This
miracle took place at three o'clock in the after
noon, as related by the Soeur Euphemie ; the
hour when Jesus Christ, at his death, bestowed a
miraculous power on the instruments of his pas
sion. It may be readily imagined, what publicity-
would have been given to such an astonishing
event, had it taken place in any other convent
than Port Royal ; and what pains would have
been taken, to inform the whole community ;
nevertheless, because it was the hour of silence,
and that hour was more strictly observed during
Lent, than at any other time, and that the house
was then in a deeper state of devotional medita
tion, than in general, these two young girls retired
to their chamber, and went to bed, without saying
a word of what had happened. The only person
to whom it was known, was the Soeur Flavie ;
who told it solely to the abbess, from whom the
Soeur Euphemie Pascal, the aunt of the child who
had been cured, learnt it on the following day.
On that day, one of the nuns employed about the
boarders, came to comb little Perrier; and being
fearful of hurting her, she very carefully touched

240 MEMOIRS 01
the left side of her head ; but the child told her,
" My sister, the holy thorn has cured me !"
" How, my sister, you are cured ?" " Look and
see," she replied. In fact the nun examined,
and saw that she Avas entirely cured. She went
to inform the abbess, who came and gave thanks
to God, for this wonderful manifestation of his
power. But she did not think it prudent to make
it publicly known, persuaded, that under the pre
sent unfavourable disposition of society towards
their house, they should above all things avoid
being made the subject of conversation hi the
world. Notwithstanding the reserA^e of the nuns, the
miracle could not remain concealed ; and God
Avho had wrought it, to justify the innocence and
purity of faith, of these Christian virgins who were
decried, soon .rendered it public. M. Dalence,
Avho had seen the child Perrier under the disease,
came to Port Royal on the 11th of March, six or
seven days after she was cured ; she was brought
to him without saying a word. He began to ex
amine her minutely, he pressed her eye, passed a
probe into the nose, and was very much astonished
to find nothing of the complaint. He was asked
if he did not remember the disorder he had seen ;
he answered very simply, " It is what I am seek
ing, but I can no longer find it." Soeur Euphemie
Pascal begged him to examine her mouth, which
he did, and introduced his probe, and found so
little amiss, that he began to laugh, and said,
" Here is nothing at all the matter ;" on which

PORT ROYAL. 241
Soeur FlaA'ie related to him everything that had
passed. He made her repeat it more than once,
for he was a remarkably cautious, prudent man,
and after having listened patiently and atten
tively, he asked if it went away immediately, and
the -child having answered that it did, he said he
Avould, whenever called on, give his attestation,
that it was impossible to have taken place but by a
miracle. M. Dalence, in fact, gave his attestation with sev
eral of the most famous physicians and surgeons
Avho were acquainted with the case. The physi
cians w^ere Charles Bonoard, (first physician to the
king,) Jean Hamon, and Isaac Eusebe Renaudot ;
the surgeons were Pierre Cresse, Martin Dalence,
and Etienne Guillard. These gentlemen say, in
their attestation of the 14th of April, " They have
seen several times, together and separate, the child
Mile. Marguerite Perrier ; who they found afflicted,
during three years and a half, with an oegilops ;
or lachrymal fistula, in the left eye, the size of a
nut. " The sanious matter discharging from the eye,
the nose, and the palate, was so offensive and
foetid, as to obhge her to be separated from the
other boarders. She had been attended and
dressed for eighteen months, without any favour
able symptoms, the disorder constantly growing
worse ; when having renewed their visits, after an
interval of three weeks, with the sjonptoms as re
lated, they were ready to apply the last remedy,
(the cautery jointly and separately,) they found her.
Vol. I 31

242 MEMOIRS OF
as they do at present, perfectly cured ; not only of
the lachrymal fistula, but the carious bone, the
foetid discharge, and the accessories inseparable from
the disorder : and since this cure, thus wrought in
an instant, in a malady of such importance, cannot
but be deemed extraordinary, in whatever Waiy it
is regarded; they esteem it to surpass the ordinary
powers of nature, and could only be brought about
by a miracle, and which they hereby declare to be
one. The father of the child, says M. du Foss^, who
had been sent for from Auvergue, to be present at
the operation M. Dalenc6 was to have performed
on the eye of his daughter, was the person who was
most instrumental in giving general publicity to
this miracle ; for finding her cured on his arrival
in Paris, he was so transported with joy, that hav
ing assembled the physicians and surgeons, and re
ceived from them an attestation, that the cure could
be attributed solely to an interposition of the Di
vine power, he united his voice with theirs in pro
claiming this miraculous cure, which was known
throughout Paris, and believed even by the whole
court. The Queen-mother felt at first perplexed at the
news of this miracle, which was spread to Com-
piegne, Avhere the court then resided. She felt a
difficulty in believing that God had given such a
peculiar mark of favour to a house which had
been for a long time described to her as infected
with heresy ; and that this miracle, of which she
had heard so much, Avas wrought on the person of

PORT ROYAL. 243,
one of the boarders in that house : as if God had
willed to show the divine approbation of the
education given to youth in that house. The
Queen did not rest satisfied, either in the letters
Avhich were written to her by several pious per
sons, or in the common report, nor even in
the attestations of the surgeons of Paris; she
sent M. Felix, (the king's first surgeon,) to the
spot ; a man generally esteemed for his pro
ficiency in the art, and for singular integrity,
charging him to render her a faithful account
of all that related to this miracle. M. Felix
acquitted himself with great exactitude of his
commission : he interrogated the nuns and the
surgeons ; made them describe to him the first
appearance, the progress, and the termination
of the disorder; he examined the patient atten
tively, and at last declared, that neither the
powers of nature, or the remedies used, had any
share in performing this cure, which could only
be the work of God.
That nothing should be wanting to establish
the authenticity of this miracle, it pleased God
it should be verified by the Grands Vicaires
of the Archbishop of Paris. These gentlemen,
excited by the voice of the public, commenced
about the end of May taking regular infor
mations respecting this miracle; which were
continued in June following, and again in Oc
tober. The miracle was verified by M. Hodencq,
Grand Vicaire and Official, who was Cur^ and
arch-priest of St. Severin. ,

244 MEMOIRS OF
We learn the following, on this important
subject, from a letter dated October 24, 1656,
from Soeur Euphemie Pascal to Madame Perrier:
" It is now eight or ten days since httle Perrier
has been examined judicially, by the official
surgeons, in presence of M. le grand vicaire and
official, (M. Hodencq) ; in consequence of which
she has been made to go out wdth her sister,
in a secular habit, and he has since pronounced
his sentence. I know not if this may be called
approbation, or verification of the miracle. We
intend in consequence, God wilhng, to sing a
solemn Te Deum, on Friday next, Avith a mass
of thanksgiAdng. The little Perrier vrill be in
the church Avithout, with a lighted taper ; then
Ave shall endeavour to show forth in part, the grati
tude which God has diffused in our hearts." Thus
far Dom Clemencet.
As memorialists of Port Royal, it became our
duty to record an account which one class of
readers will deem absolutely incredible ; since
it wholly contradicts the estabhshed laws of
nature; whilst to others it may, perhaps, appear
equally impossible, that such men as Pascal,
Nicole, Tillemont, Du Foss^, and Fontaine,
should either publish a deliberate falsehood, or
be deceived as to a plain matter of fact, ob-
A'ious to the senses, and relating to one with
Avhom they were in habits of daily intercourse.
Whatever opinion may be entertained, as to
the mode by which this cure was wrought, one
thing is certain. An attestation of the fact was

PORT ROYAL. 245
obtained, from the very officers who had received
the orders for persecution. The first surgeons
in Paris were examined, upon oath. Port Royal
was thronged for many weeks, by persons who
went to ascertain the truth of their deposition.
1 The consequence AA^as, that Port Royal was freed
from any further persecution. The storm was
hushed for a season; the recluses gradually re
turned ; and the valley of Port Royal des Champs
flourished as before.
Though deprived of its schools, the solitude
extended its usefulness, if possible, more than
ever. Its fame had been increased by persecution,
and its piety was venerated, from the patience with
which that persecution had been endured. Num
bers came to visit Port Royal, from religious mo
tives. Many, whose duties still retained them in
the Avorld, yet Avished to profit by the pious example
of this society. They came to retire there for a
season, conforming to the rules of the institution
whilst they stayed, and keeping up a constant cor
respondence with its members, when they were ab
sent. Multitudes of persons of this description,
placed themselves under the direction of Port Royal.
Conversions without number were daily made.
The Queen of Poland, the Princesse Guimenee, the
Dukes and Duchesses of Luynes, Liancourt, and
Pontchateau, the Marquisses of Sevigne and Sable,
were but a very small portion of the multitudes
Avho annually retired there, and who edified the
world by an upright and godly conversation.
There was, at this time, two hundred and fifty

246 MEMOIRS OF
stated inhabitants of Port Royal des Champs,
including both the nuns and recluses. The num
ber of those who were under their direction, and
who occasionally retired there, amounted to several
hundreds.

CHAPTER VII.

Remarhable Conversion of Madame de Lcmgu^ville. —
Renewed persecution. — Letter of Madame de
Bregy. — The M. Angelique.
At this period a conversion took place, which
astonished France. It ought to have convinced
their enemies of the real piety of the Jansenists.
It would no doubt have done so, had they attended
to our Lord's rule, to judge of the tree by its
fruits. Madame de Longueville, that haughty princess,
whose beauty, whose wit, and whose talents, had
hitherto been made subservient to the most bound
less ambition ; that same person, who plunged
her country into the horrors of a civil war, to
gratify her own disappointed pride; that heroine,
who had so long withstood the great Conde,
Madame de Longueville, became suddenly an
altered character. She Adsited Port Royal. Her
.'ichemes of dominion were renounced ; the haughty
intrepidity of her manner disappeared; her rest
less and perturbed spirit became calm and peace-
(247)

248 MEMOIRS OF
ful. She brought with her the Prince and
Princess of Conti, her brother and sister, and in
troduced them at Port Royal. The same change
Avas soon perceptible in them. They deplored,
Avith bitter tears, the widely extended evils their
ambition had occasioned. The immense revenues
they had expended, in maintaining a degree of
state more than royal, was now wholly devoted to
charity. Their houses, retinue, and equipage, became
marked with strict economy. Their princely
revenues were poured, with ample munificence,
into the bosom of those whose fortunes had been
injured by the civil war. They did not refuse to
make the most humiliating and pubhc acknoAV-
ledgments of their guUt. Nor did they ever after
wards spend more than was absolutely needful for
themselA'cs; till, after a lapse of many years, all
the provinces injured by the war, had been fully
indemnified by their princely donations.
So splendid an example of the principles instifled
at Port Royal, ought to have disarmed the malice
of its enemies, and silenced their clamours. It had,
however, precisely the contrary effect. It only fo
mented their envy, and strengthened their resolu
tion to conspire its utter ruin.
In 1660, a second formulary was obtained by
the Jesuits, an account of which has been given
in the article Jansenius. It was framed by the
archbishop of Thoulouse, Not only all the clergy,
but all schoolmasters, and all the members of
religious houses, CA'en nuns, were required to gi\e

port royal. 249
their signatures. Four of the bishops refused their
approbation, viz : — the bishops of Alet, Pamiers,
Angers and Beauvais. The Jansenists, too, unani
mously refused their subscription. The recluses
alleged the celebrated distinction between the duty
of submission in matters of faith, and matters of
fact. The nuns declared that, the Avork of Jan
senius being in Latin, it was impossible they could
decide on oath, upon the contents of a book they
could not even read. It might have been rea
sonably supposed that this excuse would have been
sufficient. It proved, however, the signal of imme
diate persecution.
The novices and scholars Avere directly expelled
from Port Royal des Champs, and the directors and
confessors banished. The lieutenant of the police,
with a troop of horse, was sent to visit both houses.
M. Singhn, M. Arnauld, M. de St. Marthe, and M.
Saci, were obliged to flee for the preservation of
their lives.
At this period, the M. Angelique, exhausted by a
persecution of more than five and twenty years, was
on her death bed.
She had spent the whiter at Port Royal des
Champs, in a feeble and languishing state of health,
having never recovered a very severe illness, which
had attacked her the summer before.
For a very considerable time past, she had ex
horted her nuns to prepare themselves, by a con
tinual state of watchfulness and prayer, for the
tribulation and persecution she had long foreseen
they would have to encounter.
Vol. L 32

250 MEMOIRS OF
It was in Easter week that she was apprised of
the violent measures, which had been resolved
upon against Port Royal de Paris.
Notwithstanding her advanced age, her great in
firmities, and her peculiar attachment to the retired
monastery of Port Royal des Champs, she immedi
ately sent word to M. Agnes, then abbess, that if
the community of Paris judged her presence to he
necessary at so important a juncture, she was ready
immediately to set out.
Accordingly, this step being considered advisable
by the other house, she immediately prepared to be
transported there in a litter.
This took place on the twenty-third of April,
1661. Before her departure, she assembled the
Avhole community of Port Royal des Champs, and
took leave of them with equal affection and firm
ness. The force and earnestness of her exhorta
tions to constancy, the detailed advices how to act,
under a variety of circumstances, .the deep feeling
she manifested in taking leave of each, and the
awful seriousness with which she charged each to
prove faithful to the end, sufficiently informed
them, that she, like St. Paul, when he took leave
of his beloved Ephesian disciples, never expected
to see their faces more.
Having bade them farcAvell, as she crossed the
court of the monastery, she met her brother, M.
Arnauld d'Andilly, who was at that time one of
the recluses of Port Roy-al, and Avho was waiting
to bid her adieu. As he helped her info the
carriage, she said, " FarcAvell, brother, be of good

PORT ROYAL. 251
cheer." M. d Andilly having answered, " Never
fear, sister, my courage is perfectly firm and undis
mayed !" She made him this memorable reply,
" My dear brother, let us be humble ; let us re
member, that if humility without constancy is
vilely casting away the impenetrable shield of
faith ; that courage, without deep self-distrust, is
that ungodly presumption and pride, which cometh
before a fall."
The M. Angelique had scarcely proceeded five or
six miles, when she met an ecclesiastic coming from
the house at Paris to Port Royal des Champs, sent
to inform her that the heutenant of the police had
just been to their house at Paris, where he had
taken down a list of the names of all the scholars,
in order to expel them by the royal command.
The abbess answered, with her wonted calmness,
" Well, sir, under every circumstance, God be
praised ! I will request the favour of you to go on
to inform my sisters, whom I have just left, of this
intelligence ; and to tell them not to let their minds
be troubled, but to let their hearts be fixed, trusting
in the Lord."
Then, turning to her companions in the coach,
she said, " My sisters, God has promised that all
things shall work together for good to those who
love God, hence they have reason to praise him,
and to thank him, for all things, and at all times ;
let us now then join together to say the ' Te Deum,' "
which they accordingly immediately did.
On her arrival, the M. Angelique found the
street thronged by an immense concourse of people,

253 MEMOIRS OF
the gates of the monastery closely guarded by sen
tinels, g,nd the courts fuU of armed detachments
of the police; and on being taken out of her
litter, she was carried into the house between files
of archers.
She found the whole community in tears and
lamentation. Her presence, however, restored
some degree of calmness. " How ! my dear sisters,"
said she, " I do believe you are weeping ! have you
then no faith ? you have God, and yet fear the loss
of anything else ! believe me ; fear God, and him
only, and all will go well."
Then pausing, she raised her eyes to heaven,
and with clasped hands, and a look at once of
tho most fervent devotion, and deepest and ten-
derest commiseration, she exclaimed, " My God,
have pity on us, thy children ! vouchsafe to bestow
upon us all that grace, which may enable us
from our very hearts to say, Father, thy holy
will be done !"
From this day, however, the whole house be
came a scene of lamentation and weeping ; and
the whole monastic inclosure resounded with the
sobs and cries of thirty-three children, and several
young girls, already received into the noviciate, and
who awaited the mandate of their expulsion, as
though it had been a death-w-arrant.
The M. Angelique, who had as much tender
ness and affection for these children, as if they
had been her own, felt her heart rent by the
pain of this cruel separation. But that to which
she Avas most acutely sensible, was their being

PORT ROYAL. 253
taken away, to be placed in scenes, which would
expose them to the contagion of the world.
At every hour of the day they were coming,
one after the other, to take leave of her, sobbing
and shrieking with despair; whilst she, on the con
trary, consoled and exhorted them to resignation
and constancy.
This mournful scene was prolonged during
eight days ; as several of the parents lived in the
country, and could not reach Paris to take away
their children sooner. The grief of these poor
children was so great, that the nun who Avas their
mistress, could scarcely prevail upon herself to go
into the room. As soon as ever she appeared, they
threw themselves in a crowd upon her, weeping,
and holding fast by her clothes, and beseeching her
to take pity upon them, and let them stay. Little
ones of tAvelve years old, earnestly entreated to be
received as noAdces, that they might stay. Several
of them besought their parents to let them be laj -
sisters, as the servants were still permitted to re
main. Some of them were tAvo days without eat
ing, and all of them passed whole nights in tears.
The grief of the parents, who came to fetch them,
Avas in several instances not much less than that of
the children : some of them were so affected, that
they fainted on the spot. They probably felt this
persecution against so holy an institution, as an
awful sign of the times.
The departure of the scholars Avas not concluded,
Avhen a new order came, to expel all the postulants
and novices.

254 MEMOIRS OF
This totally unexpected stroke was peculiarly
severe to the M. Angelique. All these novices gave
hopes of the most sincere and fervent piety; and
the abbess, as well as themselves, felt unutterable
pain at seeing them plunged again into the world,
which they had renounced for CA'^er.
There were three of these young people especi
ally, for whom she cherished, if possible, a yet
more peculiar tenderness. These were the two
ladies de Luynes, daughters to the Due de Luynes,
and Mile, de Bagnols. The M. Angehque had
educated them herself, and they had been in the
monastery almost from the cradle. They all gave
promise of the most exalted piety, nor could she
forget the fervent earnestness, with which their
venerable parents had recommended them to her
care, nor the solemn and repeated charges they had
laid upon her, beseeching her to do all that in her
lay, to make them worthy of being consecrated to
God in her nionastery.
The young people were now fully grown up :
they had exceeded her most sanguine hopes, they
were now on the point of assuming the dress and
had been awaiting the day with the most anxious
impatience. The moment of the departure of these beloved
disciples being now at hand, the M. Angelique,
whose faith had hitherto supported her, felt her
Avonted firmness at once fail : her heart was rent
within her, and wrung with anguish ; when sud
denly raising up her eyes to heaven, she knelt
down, and addressed herself aloud to God, for

PORT ROYAL. 255
faith to support her in that trying hour. Then
rising, she with a steady step and firm eye, con
ducted them herself to the outside door, where
the Duchesse de Chevreuse, their sister-in-law,
was waiting in her carriage for the young ladies.
She could not help complimenting the M. Ange
lique on her fortitude ; " Madame," replied the
venerable saint, " there is a God who seeth in
heaven, and Avhilst he is, I put in him my trust."
A reply, truly worthy of the sister of the great
Arnauld. It is, indeed, very similar to one he
made many years after, to Nicole : they had been
hunted from place to place, on account of their
religious publications. Arnauld wishing Nicole
to assist him in a new work, the latter observed,
" We are now old, is it not time to rest ?" " Rest !"
returned Arnauld, "have we not all eternity to
rest in ?"
The young ladies appeared quite overcome with
grief, when the M. Angelique, tenderly embracing
the eldest of Mademoiselles de Luynes, said to her
firmly, " Farewell, my very dear daughter, hope
thou in God, and put thy confidence in him ! As for
ourselves, we shall assuredly meet again ; and meet
in that blessed land, where no power of man shall
ever part us more."
Nor was this the only instance amongst her pos
tulants and novices, which was deeply afflicting to
the M. Angelique ; she was especially touched by
the case of one young person, the daughter of un
godly parents, who had been received on charity' .
This girl had such a fear of going out of the house,

256 MEMOIRS OF
Avhere she had found salvation, and mixing Avith the
profane associates in her OAvn family, that she Avas
taken very alarmingly ill, and her death was a long
time expected.
Another, who Avas already a novice, and who had
been under circumstances of peculiar obligation to
Port Royal, never AA^ould quit hex novice's dress ;
and during the remainder of her life, though her
parents were much in the world, she ahvays wore it,
and always pursued her religious exercises and acts
of charity; saying to the world who interrogated
her on so singular a conduct, " I am a nun of Port
Royal, nor can I forget my Zion, though in a land
of strangers."
Another young postulant, who came for a choir
nun, became postulant as a lay-sister, or servant.
rather than go. After the persecution Avas OA^er, the
abbess having offered her the rank of choir nun,
this pious girl refused, saying she Avas too much
attached to the situation, in which God had already
blessed her.
Thus were seventy-five persons, including scholars,
novices, and postulants, at once expelled, by an un
just persecution, from the asylum of Port Royal.
Many letters are extant, written by the nuns to
their friends at this trying period ; Ave cannot refuse
ourselves the pleasure of inserting one, by Avay of
specimen. It was from a very young nun, god
daughter to the Queen Anne of Austria.

PORT ROYAL. 257
Letter of the Soeur Anne Mane de St. Eustoquie de
Flescelles Bregy, to a friend of Port Royal.
February 5, 1660.
Sir,
The children of Babylon have cried " Exina-
nite, Exinanitel" But the foundation of God
standeth sure ! and the temple of his glory is
built up by every stroke, and secured by CA'ery
shock, Avhich Avould destroy edifices founded only
on the sand. The fashioning of the stones of that
holy temple, each apart and separate, by the
hands of the stranger in the gates, and far from
Zion, only cemented the union, and perfected the
proportions of that building, which was the joy
of the whole earth, and the glory of Jerusalem.
Let us trust in him. Sir, who overcame the world
even in the act of being crucified and slain by the
world; let not our faith be shaken, but let us
hasten to assemble around the standard of the
cross, wherever it be erected; knowing that
standard to be the banner of victory, in Him,
through whom alone the Christian wishes to
conquer, and by Avhich alone he is led on to certain
victory. Such are the views and sentiments of our minds,
I beheve I may say of our hearts. Yet I know
and feel, that if the spirit be willing, the flesh is
weak. I therefore beseech you. Sir, with all my
heart, to pray our Lord Jesus Christ, to shelter
us under the shadow of his wings, until this
Vol. I. 33

258 MEMOIRS OP
iniquity be overpast. Yet, however opposite to
the conceptions of sense, I repeat, 'those are
happy who suffer for the truth;' hoAvever little
unregenerate human feeling may appreciate this
privilege. We are, humanly speaking, indeed, delivered
over into the hands of our enemies. We expect
every moment to be imprisoned, nay, to be caUed
to lay doAvn our hves for the truth, without any
means of rescue or escape. But what of that?
In all these things, the love of Christ is able to
make us more than conquerors; and to give us
more than any temporal victory, by inspiring us
Avith a full sense of the unspeakable favour it is,
to be allowed to lay down the life of the body, for
him who is allowed to be the way, the truth, and
the life of the soul ; and who first laid down his
precious life for us.
Pray God for our Avhole community ; for me espe
cially, who am in our Lord.
Yours respectfully, in great haste,
A. M. DE St. Eustoquie de Flescelles Bregy.
Two days after this cruel enterprize Avas accom
plished, the M. Angelique Avrote in the folloAving
terms to M. de Sevigne, who had embraced a
penitent life for aboA'e a year, and who was con
nected by a close and intimate friendship with
Port Royal. " At length our good Lord has seen
fit to deprive us of all 1 Fathers, sisters, disciples,
children, all are gone ! Blessed be the name of

port royal. 259
the Lord ! Grief and sorrow indeed abound, but
peace and resignation to his holy will abound yet
more. We are persuaded that this heavenly
visitation is an effect of the great mercy of God
towards us ; that it was absolutely necessary to
purify our hearts, as with a refiner's fire, from its
various corruptions ; and that it is especially valu
able in disposing our hearts to appreciate, and to
apply the favours we formerly received. Believe
me, if God has greater mercies in store for us,
the persecution will go yet further. Let us then
humble ourselves under his fatherly chastening,
Avith our Avhole heart ; and bless him for a favour
so greatly valuable^ though so little considered as
such by the world. As for yourself, let me be
seech you to spend the present eventful period in
as much retirement as possible ; and as much as
may be to speak little, especially as far as relates
to us. Do not enter into the relation of what is
now passing, unless you are positively asked.
Listen with kindness, but answer as simply, and
in as few words as possible. Remember that
excellent remark of M. de St. Cyran's : that the
gospel and the passion of Christ, the most impor
tant event to man, and the most bitter sufferings
which can take place in human nature, are written
briefly, with perfect simplicity, and Avithout the
least attempt at human eloquence. Pride, vanity,
and self-love, mingled in everything; and since
God has united us by his Holy Spirit of divine love,
Ave must serve him in humility. The most valuable
fruit of persecution, is a real humiliation: and

260 MEMOIRS OF
humility is best preserved in silence. Let us then
keep in a state of humble silence and dependence,
at the feet of our Lord : and let us seek, from his
goodness and mercy, our support."
Some of the nuns having one day asked her,
"what she thought would become of the monas
tery, if it was thus deprived both of its scholars
and novices?" she replied, "My daughters, do
not trouble yourselves about that ; I feel not the
least anxiety as to whether your novices and your
scholars will be returned ; but I do feel a deeply
earnest anxiety, that the spirit of recoUection,
childlike simplicity, and meekness, and poverty
of spirit, should be fully preserved amongst you.
Whilst these subsist^ give yourselves no trouble as
to the rest."
Long before the beginning of this persecution,
which exiled their spiritual directors, the M.
Angelique used to say to her nuns, " Let us make
good provision of the vs^ord of God, which he now
so abundantly distributes to us, by the mouth of
his servant*. These are the years of plenty ; but
the years of famine -will come, when we shall be
deprived of all the external assistances we now
enjoy ; and Ave shall want all we shall have laid
up in the treasury of our minds to sustain us."
To return to our narrative. In all these conflicts
of mind, although the poAver of faith sustained the
soul of the venerable abbess, yet nature sunk ex
hausted beneath the overAvhelming and accumulatr
ing burden. It was obvious to all, that her already
shattered strength, rapidly and daily declined.

PORT ROYAL. 261
In addition to the pressure of the heart-rending
sorrows above related, she had superadded the
perpetual fatigue of that multiplicity and per
plexity of business, the unavoidable consequence
of this time of consternation, uncertainty, and
trial. Indeed she Avas in a state of constant
exertion and harassment, both of mind and
body. Sent for at all hours to the parlour, to
confer on the most important concerns of business ;
sometimes she had to instruct friendly assistants ;
at others, to cope with the chicanery or the bru
tality of Avily or unfeeling enemies. Some she
saAv to consult, by others she was consulted ; nor
did a day pass, in which they did not receive
repeated messengers and letters, either of intelli
gence, advice, or inquiry, from Port Royal des
Champs; where a precisely similar scene Avas
transacting, to that Avhich had taken place in the
house at Paris.
Such Avas the difficulty of their position, and so
prompt Avas the attention required, that it fre
quently happened, that as the day was spent in
consultation, the night Avas devoted to writing
the letters which were their result. Added to all
this, we must mention the additional hours of
devotion set apart by the community, during this
peculiar season of trial.
Under such complicated burdens, the already
shattered constitution of the venerable abbess
finally sunk. One day she had been engaged,
beyond her usual practice, in offering up her fer
vent prayers for the preservation of the young

262 MEMOIRS OF
novices and scholars who had been wrested from
her. Having concluded her devotion, and being
completely exhausted, she was endeavouring, with
some feeble remains of strength, to drag herself
from the cloister to the choir, when she was OA'er-
come Avith the exertion, fainted, and sunk on the
ground. She was carried into her chamber, and
placed on the bed, from Avhich she never rose
more. She was seized with a most dreadful oppression,
accompanied by a high fever. Her sense of suffo
cation was so continual, as to resemble a j)rolonged
and living death ; nor could she for a moment
rest her head on the pillow, or lean back ; so that
she was obliged to be supported in a sitting pos
ture day and night. Besides Avhich, she was at
short intervals seized vrith such violent paroxysms,
that her death was every moment expected ; so
that, in the course of two months, she thrice re
ceived the last sacraments.
But though her bodily afflictions were thus
grievous, they were as nothing compared to the
deep sufferings of her mind. And as she sloAvly
descended into the valley of the shadow of death,
and with a footstep that never slid, passed through
its fearful gulfs unhurt ; yet the adversary of the
salvation of her soul was allowed to thrust sore at
her, and to sift her, like Avheat, to the utmost.
Yet her faith was not suffered to fail. The awful
sense of death seemed always present with her.
An observation frequently made by M. Arnauld,
might pecuharly be applied to the M. Angehque.

port royal. 263
He used often to say, "that the death -bed of
young converts is generally most bright, because
their newly acquired sense of the mercy of God,
in some sort dazzles their eyes from steadily be
holding his holiness ;" and he mostly added, " the
experienced Christian has too solid a view of the
mercy of God in Christ, not to rejoice ; but he has
too exalted views of the holiness of God, not to re
joice with trembling."
In the beginning of her illness, the awful part
of the prospect seemed chiefly present with the
venerable Mere. Death Avas always before her.
She spoke of nothing else, and thought of nothing
else ; so that she might almost have said with the
Apostle, " I die daily." She was so penetrated
with a sense of the infinite holiness of God, and
of her own unworthiness, that she could not think
without awe, of the moment when her soul should
appear in his presence.
"Beheve me, my dear children," said she to
her nuns, " no one knows how unspeakably awful
is death ! nor can any person, yet afar off, form
the least conception of what it is to stand on the
brink of eternity. As for myself, I have had a
serious sense of death before my ej'es, from my
early years; and for above the last fifty years, I
may say it has continually been in my thoughts.
But now that I stand at the very threshold, I find
all my most serious thoughts and meditations, as
less than nothing, compared with the unspeakable
awfulness of the reality of what I feel it to be at
this hour. The anticipation of such a change as

264 MEMOIRS OF
it now seems to me, Avould alone detach from CA^ery
human pleasure, and make every pain sit light.
As the soul stands between time and eternity,
ready to ascend to God, the earth itself sinks and
dwindles into a mere speck, though she can more
clearly discern the path she has passed through !
How is it possible for a Christian, to have any other
pain or pleasure, or object of occupation during
all his life, than preparing himself for this awful
hour." Yet, though such Avas her state of mind,
her firm confidence in the mercies of God in Christ
supported her soul.
Her nuns sitting with her, she said to them,
" We ought no more to let the world take posses
sion of our mind during life, than at the hour of
death;" and being often in a sort of doze or
lethargy for hours together, she one day said, on
awaking, " I never understood so fully as 1 do
now, one important sense of that Scripture, which
says, that ' where the tree falls there it must lie.'
0, my dear sisters, see the weakness, the incapa
city of attention in illness ; truly, in most cases of
sickness, we may say the tree is already fallen;
it is very seldom moved after."
When she was asked by the nuns, Avhat they
should pray for, as it related to her, or Avhat they
should request their sisters at Port Royal des
Champs to pray for, she always made one answer,
" Let them only pray God to be merciful to me, and
forgive my manifold sins."
Sometimes she said, "The mercy of God!
all is included in that AA-ord mercy! Jesus!

PORT ROYAL. 265
Jesus ! thou art my God, my strength, and my jus
tification." The great . humility of the M. Angelique, made
her even Avish not to say anything, or do any
thing too remarkable, Avhich might occasion her
to be remembered with eminent honour after her
death ; and having been told that the M. Suireau
des Anges, for whom she had a high esteem, had
said many things which were remembered with
edification, she ansAvered quickly, " That dear
Mere was very simple, and very humble ; but I
am neither."
Having one day surprised a sister taking down
on paper several of her remarks, she commanded
her to burn it, saying, " It is a pity not to content
ourselves with the word of eternal life itself, which
contains truth, without any mixture of error ; and
when I see you, my sisters, more touched and
affected by words spoken by a miserable sinner like
myself, than by the essential truths of which the
Gospel is full, which have converted so many thou
sand souls to God, and on which we never can medi
tate enough, I consider it as a snare and temptation
of the adversary of your souls."
The nuns having one day requested her to leave
them her last instructions, she said, " Believe me,
Ave have instructions enough, if we did but faith
fully use them. No human power can wrest from
us the treasure of true instruction, if it be truly
sought for in sincerity ; for the kingdom of God is
Avithin. But curiosity it is that makes us always
hunt after what is new. St. Elizabeth said, in her
Vol. I. 34

266 MEMOIRS OF
day, Avith fervent gratitude, ' Whence is it to me,
that the mother of my Lord should Adsit me?'
How much more gratitude should we feel, since our
Lord himself visits us ; and not only visits us once,
but has promised to abide with every one of his
disciples !"
On the first of June 1661, the M. Angelique
fell info a sort of agony, which made the whole
community conclude that the hour of her dissolu
tion was at length arrived, and the last sacraments
were administered. After which, her sister, the
M. Agnes, entreated her to give her dying
blessing to her assembled community. She could
not speak, but she answered by looking down,
clasping her hands, and striking her breast three
times, making them understand by signs, that this
it did not appertain to a sinner like herself to
give. The whole community being one day assembled
round her bed, and expressing the great pain they
felt on seeing her complicated sufferings, she an
swered, " My dear sisters, it is all nothing in the
presence of eternity at hand."
The violence of the paroxysms, however, some-
Avhat abated, though her weakness and sufferings
were so extreme, that her life was scarcely ex
pected from day to day. In this state the trial
Avhich Avas most acutely painful, both to herself
and the Avhole community, was the banishment of
their excellent confessors and spiritual directors,
M. Singlin, M. de Saint Marthe, and M. de
Saci.

PORT ROYAL. 267
M. Singlin had been the confessor of the M. An
gehque for upwards of twenty years ; and it may be
truly said, that the spiritual instructions of this
eminently faithful servant of the Most High were
her first earthly consolation and dependence. It is
easy then to judge how painful such a deprivation
must have been, and how sensibly she must have
felt both the Avant of his enlightened spiritual
direction, and his pastoral consolation and support ;
especially when that deprivation took place under
circumstances of such accumulated trial, and at so
solemn an hour.
Nevertheless, she supported this heavy affliction
with the same resignation and constancy as all her
other trials. " It is the will of God," said she,
*' and that is sufficient ! I believe, moreover, that
M. Singlin, and all our fathers in Christ, are
present with us in the spirit of Christian charity-,
and of prayer at this moment, as fully as if I saAv
them here Avith my bodily eyes. I have always
esteemed M. Singlin's direction more than any
earthly blessing, and I do so still ; but I have
never put man in the place of God. He can have
nothing but what he has received from God ; and
God gives him nothing for us, but when, in the
order of his Providence, he is appointed to be with
us. Let us go straight to the fountain, which is
God himself I He never fails those who put their
trust in him."
" My nephew," said she, speaking of M. de Saci,
who Avas also exiled, " could be of no use to me,
but by the permission of God ; but God, without
my nepheAV, can be all things to me."

268 MEMOIRS OF
One day, as she was lying apparently in a
doze, she heard some of the nuns, who were
sitting in her chamber, whispering and bewailing
their fate, at having no one to conduct them, and
at being like sheep without any shepherd. " My
dear daughters," suddenly interrupted the abbess,
"your ecclesiastics were of the saints of the
earth ! let us, then, shoAV our sense of their value,
by emulating their faith, and practising their
excellent instructions, instead of unbelievingly
bewailing their loss. Believe me, my daughters,
we stand in 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
more profusely blessed than our own ! We had
abundance of spiritual directors, whose piety and
learning were the admiration of the land, and
the good works of several distinguished characters
in the world, connected with us, brought down
the blessing of men upon us ; and the knowledge
of truth, in clearness and in purity, shone Avith a
brilliant light amongst us. Believe me, spiritual
Avealth has temptations, at least as dangerous as
temporal wealth. It Avould have been dangerous
to have remained longer in our undisturbed abun
dance. God has humbled us, lest we should have
fallen; and Avhilst men gave us credit for the
knowledge of the truth, God has mercifully af
forded us this means of self-examination, how far
Ave have the love of it. Men Avho persecute us,
knoAv not Avherefore they do these things ; but

PORT ROYAL. 269
God, who uses them as instruments, does for us
by them that Avhich we need. All things shall
work together for good to them that love God."
MeanAvhile, the bodily sufferings of the M. An
gelique rapidly increased. Her legs and her
whole body began to swell; and she fell info the
last stage of a confirmed and remediless dropsy.
In this state her sufferings Avere grievous. She
laboured under an extreme nausea, Avhich occa
sioned an absolute loathing for every description
of food. Her long continued oppression Avas not
only very considerably increased, but she began
to labour under all the tortures of soreness incident
on the Avant of posture, and the constant pressure
of one position. Whilst she was in this state,
fresh measures of persecution were instituted
against the house; and an inquisitorial visit was
begun by two ecclesiastics, accompanied by a
numerous band of the police. One of these offi
cers, passing through the chamber of the dying
abbess, one day asked her how she felt. She
tranquilly replied, " Like a person who is dying."
He answered, " Do you speak of death so calmly ;
does it not amaze you ?" She replied, " No !
since I only came into the world to prepare for this
hour." Not a day now passed, in which the monastery
Avas not harassed by fresh disquietudes, or tried
by afflicting intelligence. Bad news came, like
Job's messengers, from every quarter; and sorroAV
after sorrow followed, like successive billows,
overwhelming their souls. One day the dying

270 MEMOIRS OF
abbess was told, that the officers of police were
come with masons and carpenters, to wall up
the doors of access to the monastery. Another
time, that parties of archers were prowling about
the neigbourhood, and lurking in various dis
guises, searching all the houses, and prying into
every corner, in order to discoA-er their confessors,
and drag them to the dungeons of the Bastille.
Another time, reports reached her, that all the
nuns Avere to be immediately dispersed. But
these accumulating sorrows had lost their sting,
and the vanishing shadoAvs of time and sense could
no longer disturb the deep tranquillity of approach
ing death.
The venerable Mere now seemed fast approach
ing 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
Avas still engaged Avith God. At this hour of
extremity, the nuns were all gathered round her
bed, watching the approaches of dissolution on
her countenance, as she lay perfectly still, with
her eyes closed and her hands clasped in prayer.
They wept in silence, whilst the rattling of arms
Avithout, as the guard was changed, the vociferar
tions of the archers, and the continual knocking
and hammering of the workmen, alone interrupted
the scene of death. One of the young nuns, Avho
had been educated by the Mere, and who had the
most tender attachment for her, could no longer
restrain her indignation at this last inhuman
outrage. "Surely," exclaimed she, "these men.

PORT ROYAL. 271
who are thus inhumanly walling up our doors, are
at the same time walling up the gates of heaven
against themselves."
" My daughter, say not so," said the abbess,
luiclosing her eyes, on Avhich the shades of death
seemed already gathering ; " the ground and in
tention of their hearts are known to God alone,
their judge and our judge ! Let us rather join in
prayer to the throne of mercy, for them and for
us." The Tiuns, however, seeing their spiritual
Mother bereft of every human aid and comfort,
both temporal and spiritual, in her last moments,
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 not now man, but
God to depend upon ; his mercies never fail those
AA'ho believe, and who place their reliance and trust
in his name."
Thus did the peace of God, Avhich 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 moment entering the
room, Avith tidings of aggravaxed calamities and
violence; they spoke to each other in a whisper,
supposing the dying abbess did not hear. She,
hoAve\'er, suddenly said, " My dear sisters, when
I consider the dignity of such an affliction, I

272 MEMOIRS OF
tremble ! How unworthy are we of the honour 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, sufficiently showed
how much the mind of the King had been influenced
by those who were inimical to Port Royal, or
rather to the cause of Scriptural and spiritual
Christianity ; the zealous defence of which had
rendered it obnoxious.
The dying abbess determined, therefore, to ad
dress a last letter to the Queen-mother, Avho had
a particular esteem for her brother, M. Arnauld
d'Andilly ; and, with her dying hand, to make one
more effort, that 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 receiAing it, con
sidered it as the offspring of the united talents of
Arnauld, Nicole, and Saci.
This celebrated letter was dictated at various
intervals ; and almost every line was interrupted
by the faintings or convulsions of its author.
When finished, it was read over to the abbess, Avho
again made some corrections, and it was then
dispatched. After which she said to the nuns around, " Noav
my earthly business is done !"
From that moment, she would no longer enter
into the consideration of any worldly concern, but

PORT ROYAL. 273
solely occcupied her thoughts with the consideration
of eternity.
During her whole illness, indeed, she was in
a constant state of recollection ; her eyes were
usually raised towards heaven, and she seldom
spoke, unless in answer to any person, except to
make short ejaculatory prayers or thanksgivings,
mostly from the psalms, or other passages of holy
writ. Although some of the nuns continually sat in
her room, she liked to have the curtains of her bed
draAvn, and to be left to solitude. Her weakness
and stupor continually increased; but Avhen her
friends opened the curtains, to see if she Avanted
anything, her hands were joined in prayer, and the
motion of her lips showed her heart to be still in
communion Avith GoD.
A young nun having, unadvisedly, began to
speak to her on some business, she briefly replied,
" My work is now done, it is time to sabbathize."
As the abbess drew near her end, her assurance
became more firm, and her prospects more bright
and consolatory ; till at last her setting sun shone
with a stedfast, glorious, and peacful light — her
fer\'ent faith gilding, with mild beams of heavenly-
lustre, the darkening prospects around ; and re
flecting a rich and glorious effulgence, even from
the rude and shapeless skirts of those black clouds,
Avhose huge and gathering accumulations ushered
in with solemn and yet gorgeous majesty, the
benignant closing of her long, and bright, and
Avell-spent day.
Vol. L 35

274 MEMOIRS OF
On the twenty-seventh of July, she Avas seized
Avith a violent shivering fit, -which lasted for two
hours"; then, lifting up her eyes to heaven, and
clasping her hands, she said, * " This is death !
God be praised ! God's holy will be done !
Blessed be God, for ever and ever !" — which she often
repeated. From this hour to the last of her life, she spoke
but little, being reduced to almost 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 : " Domine, miserere nostri ; te enim ex-
pectavimus : esto brachium in mane, et salus nostra
in tempore tribulationis."
The M. Angelique de St. Jean, her niece, and
daughter of M. d'Andilly, said to her, " Alas, my
mother ! this time of tribulation is already come."
The abbess, turning towards her, said, " It is good
for us, my 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
Mere Angelique then clasped her hands, and,
exerting all her remaining strength, ' said with
an accent of the deepest emotion, " My God, have
mercy upon them all ! My God, I say upon
all ! Yes, upon every one !" She then added,
" Particeps ego sum omnium timentium te, et
custodientium mandata tua. Qui timent te,
videbunt me et Isetabuntur, quia in verba tua
supersperavi. In te, Domine, speravi, non con-

port royal. 275
fundar in aeternum." She said this last with
difficulty, and then fell into a doze, from which
awaking, she said several times, " Adieu ! adieu, my
children ! I am going !"
The next day, the 5th of August, the physicians,
seeing she was at the point of death, advised the
last sacraments to be administered without delay ;
at which proposition the abbess immediately
revived, and occupied herself in repeating verses
from the psalms, whilst her room was preparing.
She received the viaticum with a fervour 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 ex
hortation 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.
After this she fell into a peaceful slumber,
during which her spirit departed to God, her
Saviour. The Reverend Mere, Marie Jaqueline Angelique
Arnauld, died in the year 1661, on Sunday, the
6 th of August ; a day on which the church, alike
commemorates the resurrection and transfiguration
of our Lord.
Besogne draws her character in the following
terms: "She united a profound humility to a

2T6 MEMOIRS OF
sublime genius. Her capacious and comprehen
sive understanding, and rare sagacity, superseded
the necessity of cultivated talents. She combined
a noble generosity and lofty magnanimity, Avith an
astonishuig simplicity, and an undeviafing in
tegrity. Endured with grandeur and strength of
soul above her sex ; with an impregnable firm
ness, in the midst of the most pressing dangers,
and the most harassing contradictions; she was
eminently gifted with a ferA-our 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 sublunary
goods; and a magnificent liberahty towards the
poor. The rich assemblage of all these virtues,
joined to an almost supernatural and intuitive
superiority of wisdom, formed the character of this
incomparable woman, and truly admirable Christian
heroine." The life of the Mere Angelique is, however,
perhaps her best eulo^um.
The foundress of an institution, Avhich was the
light of her century and of her church by its exam
ple, as it still is of ours, by the luminous precepts
of piety if has left behind ; the latest posterity will
be under obligations to the fidelity, with Avhich this
excellent nun, when a girl of seventeen, corres
ponded to the light then vouchsafed her.
Those Avho are more intimately acquainted with
the history of Port Royal, will venerate in the
character of the M. Angehque, a rare union of
the wisdom of the legislator, the energy and intre-

PORT ROYAL. 277
pidity of the hero, the fervor and spirituality of an
evangelist, and the constancy of a martyr.
The Mere Angelique died at the age of seventy.
Her corpse was exposed, according to custom, at
the grate which divided the chapel from the nun's
' choir. The ncAvs of her death was soon spread
over Paris, The common people, who revered
her as a saint, filled the church, and came in
crowds to look at her. For a Avhole day and
night, tAVO nuns were continually employed in
distributing through the grate, little remembrances
of her to the multitude without, who were all bathed
in tears.
At the time of the M. Angi^hque'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 saAV the crowds Avhich
thronged the convent-door, and they heard the
tolling for her funeral. They guessed the occasion,
but it Avas impossible to have any communication
Avith the monastery. Neither could they make any
inquiry, without betraying themselves, and, con
sequently, exposing their lives.
Before we dismiss this sulg'e&t, we will add a
few anecdotes of la Mere Angelique, which may
be interesting, as they mark the same magnani
mity of faith, though applied to trivial every day
occurrences. Whenever la Mere Angelique was so indis
posed, as not to be able to attend divine service
herself; she was very exact (unless it AA^ere a case

278 MEMOIRS OF
of actual extremity,) to send all those sisters
appointed to nurse her: saying, that it was a
consolation, when she could not be present her
self, to be able to send others in her place, to wor
ship God in his sanctuary.
As superior of the monastery, she was very
assiduous in enforcing a regular and prompt
observance of every duty, especially that of at
tending the sick, yet she Avas equally careful, to
unite Avith the strictness becoming her office, the
greatest indulgence and charity, as it respected
herself; and to inculcate the same upon others.
One day being very ill, and wanting some assistr
ance, the sister who ought to have been in attend
ance at the infirmary, happened to be absent
longer than usual; another sister, who was also
ill, observed, "that it was very trying, that the
sisters should ever leave their mother so unat
tended." The Mere Angelique answered with a
smile, " Yes, my dear sister, were it a frequent
habit of neglect, I ought, as superior, to remind
my sisters to be in their places, at the appointed
time : but, as an accidental circumstance, so far
as I am concerned, I do value and think it useful,
to have occasional opportunity of learning not to
depend on any personal comforts. Sick persons,
from their necessities, so easily and imperceptibly
slide into the luxury of self-indulgence ! How
many single ladies, of expectations and rank far
superior to mine, are perhaps, through misfortune,
at this very moment wholly destitute of any at
tendance ; and very many are happy and thankful,

PORT ROYAL. 279
in having one little maid to do everything for
them ; and while she Avas out on her business,
they would be obliged to be left alone. So, my
dear sister, when we want something, and that on
calling nobody answers, let us just content our
selves, and think that the little maid is gone to
market, and wait with patience till she returns."
The sister profited so well by this advice, that she
never complained afterwards, though before she
was sufficiently exacting ; but when anything was
wanting, she said cheerfully, " My mother, the lit
tle maid is gone to market to day."
The Mere always thought it savoured of pride,
to be fond of attempting great austerities; she
often said, that Christian perfection in outward
conduct consists, not in extraordinary things, but
in doing cominon things extraordinarily well.
She often said, "Neglect nothing. The most
trivial action may be performed to ourselves, or
performed to God. Seek after Christian holiness,
as a miser hunts after gold; nothing is so small
on which he does not gain some profit. Even in
rising to matins, be careful to make no noise, lest
you disturb invalids ; if Christian charity be in your
heart, your whole life may be one continual exer
cise of it."
" Be like David, who on every occasion, instead
of coming in and going out from the suggestions
of his own inclination, always consulted God, and
said, '' Lord, shall I go there ? shall I do this ?' "
She often said, " There is no Christianity with
out humility. No person is truly humble, who

280 MEMOIRS OF
does not sincerely prefer the least person on earth
to himself. Where there is real humility, there
will be the greatest care not to incommode others.
0, if we did but love otliers, how easily the least
thing, the shutting a door gently, the walking
softly, speaking low, not making a noise, or the
choice of a seat, so as to leave the most con
venient to others, might become occasions of its ex
ercise." Many of the nuns who visited Port Royal,
congratulated the sisters of that monastery on
their superiors. " You {said they,) are indeed
happy ; your superiors are true mothers ; ours are
haughty ladies."
The Mere Angelique could not endure that sort
of pride and spiritual selfishness, which leads
some persons to prefer their particular house, or
religious order to others. She often said, "It is
quite insupportable to see religious orders biting
each other, and jealous of preferences over each
other, just like the most captious and punctilious
men of the world. One says, our community is
most ancient; another, ours is most reformed:
this urges, ours is most austere, another, ours is
most liberal : this congregation sa-ys, our missions
are most successful, that, ours has produced the
greatest number of learned men, and our transla
tions am nnrivalled. One asserts we are most
highly educated, our clergy have the most exten
sive and distinguished direction ; another, our
usefulness is unequalled amongst the poor. For
my part, (said she,) I see in Scripture no such

PORT ROYAL. 281
distinctions. I am of the order of all saints, and
all saints are of my order. All Christians and
servants of God are my fathers and mothers, and
brothers, and sisters ; and I feel it a privilege and
an honour to love and serve them all, as opportunity
offers." The Mere Angelique had great confidence in
God, and addressed herself to him on all occasions,
and before she consulted with any human being.
Although she made use of means, and exercised
discretion in ordering her affairs, that she might
not tempt providence, yet she leant alone upon
the succour of God. During the raging of the
civil wars, many of her community felt great fear,
for which she very strongly reproved them. I
well remember her language on these occasions.
Amongst other things, she said to a sister who was
very timorous, " Our Lord declares he will come as
a thief in the night, in a day and hour when he is
not expected. It does not require the assistance
of an army to take away our IIa'cs. It only needs
the falhng of a slate, or a tile, or an infinity of
other accidents, any of which can destroy us in
a moment. The hour of our death and judgment
is to us unknoAvn. We must at all times regard
ourselves as guilty sinners, who may at any period
be summoned to appear before God. And yet, my
sisters, you allow yourselves to give way to vain
terrors ! You deserve that God should withdraw
his assistance from you ! Do you know that the
Lord is on your side? and that one may say to
you, as the prophet Elisha did to his servant, that
Vol. I. 36

282 MEMOIRS OF
there are more for you than there are against you ?
Do ycu not know, that all the hairs of your head
are numbered ? that not one can fall without his
permission ? that the wicked can do nothing but
what he sees good ? But the fact is, we do not
exercise faith."
The Mere Angelique wishing to inhabit Port
Royal des Champs, to assist the poor, both tem
porally and spiritually, some ecclesiastics wished
to dissuade her, because it had long been aban
doned, and because it was unhealthy; but she
determined to go, saying she would ncA'er abandon
her poor ; and adding, " How lamentable it is,
that there are so many persons Avho had rather
expose themselves to sin than to inconvenience !
They fear to live without health, and they do not
fear to live without grace. Souls which seem to
belong to God, have almost aU a back door,
through which to escape when trials press on
them." During the civil wars of Paris, in 1652, a great
multitude of artizans in the neighbouring towns
and villages, were obliged to quit their employ
ments and their commerce, on account of the
misery and danger of the times ; and amongst
others, those who manufactured the common serge,
worn by the nuns of Port Royal : sd' that none was
to be obtained, but some pieces whose indifferent
quality had been the cause of their remaining on
hand from the preceding years : but Avhich from
the interruption of trade, Avas then offered for sale
at double the price at which it was usually sold.

port royal. 283
although the quality was very inferior. M. Guais,
a pious friend of Port Royal, who often made him
self useful in transacting their purchases, had been
asked to endeavour to procure some serge ; but as
he knew that the monastery was at that time poor,
and that money would be very ill laid out in buying
so bad an article, at more than double its value, he
endeavoured to find out some substitute; and by
accident, met with some Ras du Nord much
cheaper. This is a beautiful and fine stuff, and
would have worn double the time of the other. He
parchased one piece, and sent it to MSre Angelique
for her approval ; not doubting but that she Avould
be delighted at meeting with so beautiful, durable,
and expensive a commodity, at a much lower price
than a very inferior one. But the Mere Angelique
immediately said, " I had much rather buy the
common stuffs, at double the price, than suffer these
fine ones to enter the community. I consider the
money I shall pay, not in the light of a dear price
paid for an article of dress, but as a cheap price, to
keep vanity and finery out of a religious house,
Avhich has hitherto been preserved from it. Thus
it is, that religious houses fall into relaxation, by
little and little. Few at once openly renounce strict
and self-denying habits : but some opportunity pre
sents itself, in which that which is a departure from
religious simplicity, seems to be accompanied by a
real, though accidental benefit; and then, Avhat was
adopted under the pretext of necessity, becomes
established from vanity and luxury. Believe me,
my sisters, things are not to be always estimated at

284 MEMOIRS OF
the money- they cost. That must ever be a dear
purchase which is at the price of Christian simpli
city, because it is at the price of the soul. Chris
tians must establish those regulations as to dress,
furniture, &c. which they judge most suitable to
those who acknowledge themselves guilty sinners,
who feel they are but pilgrims here below, and who
are disciples erf a crucified Lord, Avho had not Avhere
to lay his head ; and, having established that rule,
it is not one solitary instance of expediency, that
should lead them to break it. Since, however, M.
Guais has kindly bought us the stuff, take it; and
let it be cut up for socks and stockings, where the
beauty of the stuff Avill do no harm, because it will
not be seen."
The Mere Angelique had nothing more at heart,
than to wean Christians from an undue dependence
and affection even on good people : and on occasion
of the death of those to whom she was most at
tached, she often said, " Let us Aveep as those who
have appreciated the gift God has bestowed upon us,
and as those that very highly value the image of
Christ in his children; but let us not weep with
that immoderate sorroAv, Avhich will cause us to add
to our tears of sorrow, the bitter tears of remorse,
for having mourned too humanly, as those without
hope ;" to Avhich she often added, " Yes, my sisters;
after all, Ave lose nothing, even in the most grievous
of such trials, if we could but so persuade ourselves.
All creatures indeed die, and pass aAvay ; but God
in whom, and by whom, and to whom are all things,
lives and abides, and reigns eternally !"

PORT ROYAL. 285
One day, the Mere Angelique Avas walking Avith
some of the community in the wilderness ; Avhich
Avas a considerable space of forest land, inclosed
indeed Avifhin the monastic boundary walls, but
divided from the garden, by a brook about twelve
feet wide ; and Avhich Avas therefore at a consider
able distance from the monastery itself. In the
midst of this solitude they found a very little girl,
of the name of Le Conte, one of their scholars, quite
alone ; having, as it afterAvards appeared, been left
for a few moments by the nun who accompanied her,
and who was just gone into the hermitage, in the
forest close by, to fetch a book. Both the Mere
Angelique, and the nuns were struck with the ap
prehension, for the risk the child seemed to have
run, though the nun returned in a moment ; when
the Mere Angelique said, " My dear sisters, what
apprehension do Ave feel at seeing this little child
left alone, but for a few moments, in this wilderness ;
where, after all, no very essential harm could befal
her ! and how aAvful is it, how little we feel the
danger of a soul, which is for one moment separated
from God. 0 how infinitely more ignorant is the
human soul of its true good, than this little infant
is, of what belongs to its temporal safety. Hoav
little the danger of this wilderness, compared to that
of the wilderness of this world, which is not only
full of thorns, and briars, and stones, but which is
haunted by deadly enemies. That wilderness,
where the fell serpent CA'er lurks in ambush to sting;
and where the roaring lion perpetually goes about,
seeking whoni he may devour. That indeed is a

286 MEMOIRS OF PORT ROYAL.
dreadful wilderness ! that danger is indeed awful !
And if we had in any degree the same perception
of spiritual, that Ave have o^ temporal danger, Ave
should see nothing so terrible as to be for one mo
ment separated from communion Avith GoD; wan
dering alone, without leaning on the arm of the
Good Shepherd, Avho is our guide. But such is our
besotted stupefaction, that we start at the least
shadoAV of temporal danger ; and heed not, though
Ave precipitate ourselves, by a vain self-confidence,
into the irrevocable gulf of spiritual and remediless
destruction !"

CHAPTER VIU.

The Soeur Flavie Passart. — M. Perefixe, ArcJo-
bishop of Paris; his visit to Port Royal de
Paris. — M. Angelique de St. Jean's Journal.
But the most painful part of the affliction of the
little community of Port Royal was yet to come.
They had, like the primitive church, not only to
endure fightings without, and fears within, but
they likewise were in perils from false brethren.
They had to endure the trial of treachery, within
the little circle of their own sisters. A short sketch
of the lives and of the deaths of the two nuns
who were so unhappy as to betray the children
of God, amongst whom their lot Avas cast, and
who had the signal misfortune of abusing so great
a privilege, to aggravate their own condemnation,
may not be uninteresting or unimpro\ing. The
circumstances in which persons are placed, vary,
ad infinitum; but the lurking passions and cor
ruptions of the human heart, and the subtle
temptation by Avhicli it is led aside, are alike in
every age, and under all circumstances. The ac-
(287)

288 MEMOIRS OF
count, probably, of the fall of these two unhappy
persons, may then not be without its use, to those
Avhose position may be widely different.
Amongst the hundred choir nuns, who at this
period inhabited Port Royal, were two Avho were
more especially indebted to the charity and boun
tiful generosity of the M. Ang6lique. These Avere
the Soeur Flavie Passart, and the Soeur Dorothee
Perdreau. The former was the daughter of a tanner of La
Ferte Milon. Her mother was a respectable
AA-oman, Avho being left without support, at the
death of her husband, quitted her native village,
and was kindly received, from charitable motiA-es,
by the nuns of Port Royal des Champs. She was
appointed tourriere ; and, in that capacity, had
apartments in the exterior part of the monastery;
to which the generous nuns added a pleasant
garden. She was also kindly allowed to bring
her little daughter with her; then a little
sprightly child ; and afterwards the sister Flavie ;
so celebrated for her talents, her treachery, and
her unhappy end. The young Flavie remained
with her mother for some years, during which
she was remarkable for great activity, vivacity,
and intelligence. At the age of fourteen, having
expressed a fervent desire to become a nun, she
prevailed on the M. Angelique, to admit her on
trial, as a postulant, into the monastic inclosure.
But after a short time, her exuberant imagina
tion, self-will, and levity, were found to assimi
late very little with the habits of her sober

PORT ROYAL. 289
minded and religious companions; so that not-
Avithstanding repeated admonitions, and the long
forbearance, which the charity of M. Angeli
que was anxious to extend to this friendless girl
as far as possible, without compromising the dis
cipline of the house ; her haughty and unsubdued
character, and open contempt of her superiors,
and of the regulations of the house, obliged them
to dismiss her at the end of four months ; though
not before her ambitious and intriguing spirit, and
her consummate artifice, had occasioned much incon-
A-enience, and sowed the seeds of discords, which it
Avas not easy to eradicate.
Her Avish of embracing a monastic life still
continuing, she, at the age of nineteen, applied for
admission at the monastery of Gif; a pious, but
unenlightened community. Her apparent zeal
and talent for speaking on spiritual subjects, soon
deluded them into an exalted idea of her sanctity ;
and Avithout more delay than was indispensable,
they admitted her to profession.
No sooner nad the Soeur Fla-vie taken the mo
nastic vow, than she exhibited passionate signs of
the most fervent and vehement, not to say en
thusiastic religious feeling. For we must term
enthusiasm, that which being fervent in degree,
is yet unsubstantial in foundation. Her whole
conduct suddenly seemed to mark the most extra
ordinary sanctity, at least to those who measured
internal sanctity, by demonstrative profession.
At chapel, at prayer, at fastings, at watchings,
the Soeur Flavie could never be satisfied, with
Vol. L 37

290 MEMOIRS OF
doing only what others did. She Avas the first to
appear, the last to remain on her knees; on ab
stinence days she fasted, on fasts she prolonged
the time ; and even when her face Avas veiled, she
Avas always to be distinguished by the number of
relics, and pictures of devotion, and good books,
Avith which she was literally laden. Nor were
the good but unsuspicious nuns of Gif, less de
ceived by the multitude of miraculous interposi
tions, and divine communications with which she
professed to be favoured. Few Aveeks Avere suffered
to elapse, without some malady of the sister
Flavie; which was always regularly terminated
]:)y a miraculous cure : and that generally took
place on some day, when distinguished visitors
Avere expected to attend service at the monastery :
in the choral part of which, her fine A^oice Avas the
chief ornament. The good nuns of Gif had not
the matured Avisdom and experience of those at
Port Royal : and the sister Flavie Avas herself a
very young person, and a novice. The heart is
decitful above all things, Avho can know it;
probably she herself, as Avell as the nuns amongst
Avhom she resided, Avere alike deceived; mistak
ing youthful zeal, and the AA'orkings of a luxuriant
imagination, and fervent temperament, for the
established deep conviction, and unwearied love
of genuine piety. They, as Avell as their novice,
fell into the common error of estimating piety, by
that fervor in couA-ersafion, AA-hich is frequently
the fruit of a glowing imagination only; and by
her eagerness to adopt extraordinary penance, so

PORT ROYAL. 291
natural to the love of distinction of the natural
heart ; and by her constant relations of miraculous
interpositions, visions, &c., &., so often the unsus
pected refuge of spiritual self-love. Well had it
been, had they judged her piety, by the surer
test of an humble, retired, and recollected spirit ;
strict fidelity in the discharge of little, and unob
served, and unshowy duties ; an humble charita
ble walk, a heart too singly walking with God
to allow of an imagination easily set afloat ; a great
care of scandalizing others, and an aptitude and
Avillingness to bow under contradiction to self-
Avill, and to be grateful and humble under
reproof. The nuns of Gif, and the Soeur Flavie
herself probably, forgot that the same self-love
which in the world inspires a desire to excel in
worldly accomplishments; in an unenlightened
religious community, leads to seek spiritual dis
tinction, by relations of those miracles or visions,
Avhich in that community are esteemed peculiar
marks of divine favour; and above all the Soeur
Flavie disliked being undistinguished. So far
did she carry this taste for miracles, that it Avould
be almost impossible to enumerate all those of
which she professed herself to be the favoured sub
ject. She seldom spoke of Christ, nor did she
manifest any signs of building her hopes on his
atonement, or of finding her peace in communion
with him : or of her chief desire being after con
formity to him. But her favourite couA'-ersation,
Avas a gratuitous supposition of her especial favour
in the divine sight ; manifested by her having

292 MEMOIRS OF
been, from infancy, the subject of miraculous
cures. Having remained some time at the mo
nastery of Gif, where her reputation for seraphic
piety daily increased, she, through the injudicious
zeal of the abbess, Avho thought she could never
sufficiently do her honour, Avas introduced to the
correspondence of some ecclesiastics of distin
guished piety. Soon after, the Soeur Flavie
thought, or imagined she thought, the rule of that
convent too little strict, and their piety not suffi
ciently austere ; and, with the permission of her
too partial superior, resolved to make another at>
tempt to enter Port Royal des Champs, in order to
embrace the strictest observances of the austere
rule of St. Bennet. To her undiscerning superior
at Gif, and even to the scrutinizing eye, but gene
rous heart of the M. Angelique, there appeared
in the first view, somewhat noble in the desire
of the Soeur Flavie to leave Gif, where she was so
extraordinarily esteemed, and where the rule was
easy, to solicit admission at Port Royal, the most
strict monastery of the order, and one from which
she had already received a repulse ; and that at a
time, when that monastery was entering the thick
cloud of a severe persecution. If not only the nuns
at Gif, but the clear sighted M. Angelique, were
deceived, is it w^onderful that the Soeur Flavie,
should herself have been the dupe of the intricacies
of her own deceitful heart ?
The sequel of her history alone, awakened in the
minds of others the suspicion, that her ruhng motive
might be widely different : and suggested the recol-

PORT ROYAL. 293
lection, that the Soeur Flavie, so admired at the
small and undistinguished monastery of Gif, might
begin to feel the Avant of a Avider theatre. That Port
Royal Avas in the height of its celebrity, and that its
very persecutions Avere the means of holding it up
^ as a beacon of light to admiring Europe. That half
the Christian church revered Port Royal as a
school of prophets, and a land of saints; and that
its A'^ery persecutors Avere dazzled by the brilliance
of its talents ; and the papal throne itself trembled
at its success. It was not, however, until many
years afterwards, that such suspicions were ad
verted to. And Avhether it were really from the
inconsistency and love of novelty, which are the
necessary fuel to a lively imagination ; or whether
because the talents of Port Royal promised her a
wider sphere of exercise to her boundless activity
and intriguing spirit, must ever remain unknown.
She, however, only remained six years at Gif;
and determining, if it were by any means possible,
to find entrance at Port Royal, she began a
correspondence, on a pretence of conscience, with
M. le Maitre, then a recluse there, and nephew to
the M. Angelique. She wrote well ; her style
was polished and elegant. Her temperament
fervent, her mind luxuriant, glowing, and imagi-
iiatiA'^e. M. le Maitre, in the deep impression of
his own conversion, was peculiarly open to trust
the religious professions of others. His charity
and zeal for souls Avere unbounded ; and especi
ally for those characterized by the fervour, elo
quence, and talent, by which he Avas himself so

294 MEMOIRS OF
especially distinguished. He only saAv the Soeur
Flavie's letters, and as he had no opportunity of
knowing her, his imagination and benevolence
soon filled up the picture. The nuns of Gif,
from whom he could alone inquire, Avere too
undiscerning to perceive the delicate lineaments
of those passions, which afterwards shot forth such
deep and baleful roots, and Avhich afterAvards
overshadowed Port Royal, like the deadly upas
tree, spreading death and desolation, as far as
the shadow of its fatal branches extend. Nay,
such are the tortuous sinuosities of human inten
tion, and so often does the ruling passion elude
the vigilant scrutiny, CA^en of the sincere disciple;
that we may fully not only hope, but believe, that
the Soeur Flavie was herself deceived, Avhilst she,
with reiterated importunity, urged Avith so much
apparent fervour and humility, her wish to be but
received at Port Royal, even in the meanest capa
city, that she might be numbered amongst the
excellent of the earth, that she might sit at the
feet of the saints and prophets, and spill her un-
Avorthy blood with that of the martyrs of that
persecuted house, and share persecution, and
death if needful, with the persecuted children of
God. She was herself probably not aware of the
secret vanity, love of distinction, desire of a
wider field of action and display, which subse
quent events gave reason to think lurked beneath.
M. le Maitre soon conceived a high esteem for
her ; and his representations were the means of

PORT ROYAL. 295
procuring her an entrance into Port Royal. Per
haps the permission was granted the more easily,
because of the high eulogiums of the nuns of
Gif; Avhich inspired the Port Royal nuns with a
fear lest they had acted too harshly, in having
before dismissed her ; and even the M. Angelique
herself, seemed as though her usual penetration
was lulled to sleep by a conscientious fear, lest
she had been betrayed into too much severity
towards childish errors ; and lest she should un
happily have thwarted a real religious vocation, in
a sincere, though very imperfect child of God. At
Port Royal then, accordingly, the Soeur Flavie in
an evil hour arrived.
Here she was received gratuitously, and not only
so, but the M. Angelique, knowing all her family
to be in the depths of poverty, on the day of her
pronouncing the vows, generously provided for
every one of her brothers and sisters, to each of
the latter of whom she presented a sum of money,
sufficient for their honourable support; and each
of the former, she placed in some respectable
avocation. The Soeur Flavie passed through the whole of
her noviciate, with almost unexampled fervour.
She possessed sufficient tact not to begin by-
bringing forward any of her favourite legends. Or
perhaps, she Avas really overawed, by the genuine,
the solid, and Avell grounded piety and religious
instruction of that house. She contented herself
then in the outset, Avith' being foremost in every
practice of devotion ; and exceeded in rigour in

296 MEMOIRS OF
every penance and practice of austerity. Some
faults indeed she had ; and great as was the
charity of Port Royal, they were of a nature not
to pass Avholly unobserved. That she was more
distinguished for zeal than for humility, meek
ness, patience, or forbearance, was indeed evident ;
and whilst her imaginative eloquence in religious
discourse was brilliant, the simplicity of Christi
anity was seldom adverted to. Her activity too,
and her numerous penances were- often admired;
her spirit of recollection Avas not observed; but
then the kind, though judicious nuns of Port
Royal, knew that perfection is not to be expected
from any one ; still less did they expect much
spiritual consistency, in one so young, and Avho
had unfortunately been placed for six years in a
community, who, though simple hearted, Avere
Avholly unenlightened ; and who rather looked up
to her Avith admiration, and sought rather to
obtain, than to give directions. Then her leaving
the prosperous monastery at Gif, to take a zealous
share in the fortunes of a persecuted establish
ment, seemed a pledge of her sincerity : so at
least thought, for a season, the nuns of Port
Royal. Nay, even the M. Angelique Avas for a
Avhile, like the rest, deceived. Perhaps even the
Soeur Flavie herself, did not kiioAV the depths of
subtlety of the human heart : and hoAV willing
ambition is to act the part of conscience, in suffer
ing, acting, or abiding any difficulties, if it can
but feed its insatiable thirst for distinction, exhi
bition, and applause. So completely deceived

PORT ROYAL. 297
were the nuns, that after a time she was appointed
sub-mistress of the novices, under the venerable
M. Suireau des Anges; a lady who Avas distin
guished by her own exalted piety, yet more than
by her close relationship to the celebrated Nicole.
And such was the talent and fervour displayed,
that it was expected by some, that she might in
time be placed in the highest posts in that house.
The Soeur Flavie had always been distinguished
for superior talent and ingenuity; and all its
resources were now directed to the secret object of
her ambition, that of obtaining distinction in the
convent. These views induced her still to main
tain the highest appearance of sanctity; and her
deep hypocrisy, or self-delusion, joined to a terri
ble judgment of God, were the cause that her
apparent piety gained her the greatest reputation
and good opinion of those Avho then governed
Port Royal. She took every means to deceive,
and spared no pains to ingratiate herself, with the
most unwearied assiduity, into the good opinion
of the religious and wise, but wholly unsuspicious
nuns ; and for her own irreparable calamity, she
was but too successful. They had loaded both
herself and her family with bounty, even from
childhood ; and it little occurred to their generous
minds, to suspect hypocrisy in the poor friendless
orphan their bounty had rescued from destruction.
They reaped the transient temporal evil, from
their erroneous judgment ; the unhappy Soeur
Flavie, incurred the awful and enduring mis
fortune of her spiritual hypocrisy and deep
Vol. L 38

298 MEMOIRS OF
ingratitude. She Avas believed to possess a pecu
liar talent for the government and education of
children. She had excelled in that department
at Gif; and she was, before long, promoted to
the superintendence of the girl's school, in the
monastery of Port Royal. This promotion it is to
be feared, became the immediate occasion of her
fall ; by opening the first door to the ambitious
career her fervent imagination soon pictured
beyond it. The celebrated and extensive school
establishments at Port Royal, were constructed on
a very distinct foundation, and occupied a very
different scale, from the inconsiderable and ob
scure seminaries at Gif. The reputation of the
latter, had probably never pierced beyond the
obscurity of their own Aillage; whilst the fame
of the Port Royal schools, the seminary of the
chief rank, talent, and piety, of cathohc Christen
dom, was in the mouth of all Europe. This
celebrity, probably, added fresh fuel to the
smothered spark of ambition, which lurked in the
heart of the Soeur FhiAie. 0 how Avell would
it be, if disciples in receiving the first marks of
distinction, truly examined before God, whether
they were given in mercy, or as an awful judg
ment; as a superadded means of usefulness, or
as a trial and temptation, needing a double por
tion of grace and humility. This consideration
did not, however, occur to the Soeur Flavie. She
believed herself a person of far superior capacity
and qualifications, to the venerable M. des Anges,
who w^as at the head of the school department;

PORT ROYAL. 299
and instead, therefore, of assisting her as sub-
mistress, she soon began to domineer over the
children Avith a high hand, and to treat her supe
rior Avith marked want of consideration. It was,
after a short time, visible to those occupied in the
same obedience, that she resented any direction,
and behaved Avith great impatience, when the
least fault Avas hinted at, or the least improvement
suggested, in her conduct respecting the children ;
so much so, that Avhenever she received any re
proof, she yielded to a suUenness and gloom,
which sometimes lasted whole weeks, weeping
incessantly, and refusing to eat, till praise for
some other thing restored her spirits. After a
time, she began the same course she had jaursued
at Gif. Whenever her conduct was impugned,
she professed to be taken violently ill. Under this
pretext, her duties were abandoned. She took to
her bed, and left the school to proceed as it could ;
but no sooner had she put the Avhole house to
the inconvenience of assembling the community,
to deliberate who should replace her, than some
sudden miracle never failed to restore her, and to
enable her to enter triumphantly the very chapter
assembled, who had now only to listen to her
account, by the relics of Avhat saint she had been
thus opportunely restored; thus tacitly throwing
the Avhole blame of her alleged illness on the
superior, by whose reproof it was, as she said,
occasioned. The attachment she professed for her
spiritual directors was unbounded, so long as it
lasted, and was carried to the most exaggerated

300 MEMOIRS OF
and fanatical excess. Such, likewise, was her
professed veneration for holy persons and rehcs.
Thus neglecting faith in Christ, and obedience to
his spirit, did she vainly seek a reputation for
sanctity ; but no sooner did her directors suggest
an improvement, or hint a reproof, than her good
opinion vanished; and was changed into as vio
lent an antipathy and lasting enmity. At her
first entrance at Port Royal, her favourite saint
Avas of course Jansenius. He was honoured in the
house she had just entered; and her esteem of
him Avould, she was in hopes, prove a means of
procuring esteem for herself She placed his
picture in her cell, with that of M. de St. Cyran.
By degrees, she felt her way, to knoAV how far
she might build on the credulity of those about
her; and she gradually returned to the same
practices, which had so Avell succeeded at Gif.
On a Christmas day, when the ground was covered
Avith snoAv, she entered the school room, with the
br.inch of a rose tree in her hand, on which was
growing a full bloAvn rose. She exhibited it to the
children under her care, assuring them this branch
Avas perfectly leafless, like other wintry branches,
only a few days since ; but that it had budded
and bloAvn on being suspended in her cell, before
the picture of M. de St. Cyran. The M. Ange
lique gravely reproved her falsehood, and never
fully trusted her more ; but from that time kept
a Avatchful eye over her, to distinguish whether
she acted from the folly of disordered and imagi
native fanaticism, or from the deep design of an

PORT ROYAL. 301
ambitious hypocrite. The Soeur Flavie had expe
rienced the unbounded generosity of the Meres
of Port Royal ; and, because she felt the Avarmth
of their charity, she forgot the superior light of
their intelligence. She counted on the folly and
credulity of those about her; but her calculation
at Port Royal was mistaken. Intent, however, on
her own plans, she did not pause to observe the
effect her conduct produced, on the charitable,
but sagacious and observant eyes of the abbesses
of Port Royal. She gradually slid into the same
conduct she had pursued at Gif. She began
indeed cautiously, and Avith the children only.
Unable to detect the truth or fallacy of her
relations, they eagerly listened to her tales of
miraculous vision and apparitions, so confidently
communicated; and they began to entertain the
highest opinion of one, favoured so much by
heaven. If her tales were credited, it would
appear that few holy persons departed this life,
without favouring her, after death, with tAvo or
three visits ; nor were there any- saints of any
note in the calendar, who had not repeatedly-
used their intercession, in obtaining her miracu
lous recovery from some dangerous illness. One
circumstance indeed, attending her indispositions,
was peculiarly remarkable : they ahvays infallibly
came on, whenever it became her duty to do any
servile office, and they as certainly miraculously
disappeared, on the apphcation of relics, if ^he
were called to any post of honour. She was never
satiated with amassing relics of M. de St. Cyran,

302 MEMOIRS OF
M. Bagnols, the M. des Anges, and in general
all the distinguished saints of Port Royal. After
a time, she astonished the children by professing
to divine their secret thoughts; and any little
circumstances Avhich had occurred in their infancy,
or little plans they had proposed. These dis
coveries filled the simple hearted children Avith
the utmost surprise; and, at length, they- related
it Avitli great astonishment to the M. Angelique.
But the abbess Avas not to be so duped. She
instantly recollected, that the Soeur Flavie Avas the
person Avho kept the keys of the children's Avriting
desks, in AA'hich were contained their private
letters, journals, &c. The M. Angelique was
silent; but immediately dismissed her from this
office. In the mean time, however, her success,
and her apparent piety, had proved the means of
her promotion, till having rapidly ascended the
earliest rungs of the ladder, she began secretly to
aspire towards the summit. " Lay hands suddenly
on no man," is the experienced advice of the in
spired apostle ; and happy had it been both for
the nuns of Port Royal, and for the Soeur Flavie
herself, had they duly Aveighed the injunction.
Meanwhile the Soeur Flavie, emboldened by suc
cess, still pursued the course she had adopted at
Gif But her professions of divine communica
tions, supernatural appearances, and miraculous
cures, as they occurred more frequently, became
more and more coolly received. Her new com
panions began to observe, that whilst laying claim
to so much that Avas extraordinary, she frequently

PORT ROYAL. 303
and increasingly failed, in her ordinarj' but un-
conspicuous daily duties. It Avas remarkable,
that a person should be so favoured of God, who
manifestly attached herself so exclusively, to that
Avliich Avas splendid in the eyes of men; and it
Avas singular, that one professing a state of much
angelic rapture, should be so little careful in main
taining ordinary Christian tempers. Hence the
A-ery means to which the Soeur Flavie resorted, to
establish her reputation for extraordinary sanctity,
became the occasion of infusing the first doubts of
her sincerity ; and inducing some of the more
experienced nuns wholly to question her religious
profession : and when the M. Agnes and the M.
Angelique stood in doubt of her, and gradually
paused in the career of advancement they had in
cautiously allowed her to enter, though they still
retained their wonted kindness, she felt that their
eyes were partially opened, and that it was only
by an apparent change of character, she could
obtain their esteem ; which esteem she ardently
Avished, as the only road then apparently open, to
that advancement which was her true object.
Zeal in favour of Jansenism would effect this. She
did not know the spirit of true disciples of Christ ;
and she did know, that with false professors alone,
the union of opinion which forms a party, stands
ill place of that union of principle, which alone
cements the living stones together, upon Christ,
the rock and only true foundation. She imagined
that by espousing a party, she should gain the
good opinion of Port Royal. Accordingly, from

304 MEMOIRS OF
that time, she did not so much stand firm under
their persecutions, as combat violently; always
proposing the most extreme and un conciliatory
measures of resistance, instead of opposing to the
Avrath of man, only meekness, patience, and spiri
tual Avisdom; and, in speaking of them, manifest
ing a party spirit against their persecutors. This
by no means succeeded in raising her in the es
teem of the truly excellent abbess. Her violence
in their cause Ayas not the sobriety of the convic
tion of truth : still less was it truth working by
love. Thus the very means by which she hoped
to Avin the favour of the abbess, proved the cause
of deepening their distrust; and of their aA^oiding,
more and more, to take her into their counsels.
As the eyes of the superiors of Port Royal became
more fully opened, they began gradually but
progressively to separate her, more and more,
from their confidence and their deliberations. It
Avas obvious that such Aiolence and enmity could
not be the genuine work of the Spirit of God;
and that the more holy the cause, the more wsis
it desecrated, by enlisting in its service such
unsanctified passions. And the wise and pious
abbess, feeling that the Soeur Flavie was acting
in her own spirit, instead of in that of Christ,
though little suspecting her hidden springs of
action, gradually found it advisable to remove
her from places, where she was entrusted with
any spiritual care of others. She Avas removed
from the care of the children, and established
Procuratrix of the house. The Soeur Flavie,

PORT ROYAL. 305
finding her schemes did not succeed, and all her
hopes of advancement at Port Royal were over,
and that instead of aspiring to any of the highest
offices in the house, she must now content herself
Avith one, which, though temporally high, did
not conduct to the abbess's throne, became wholly
changed. From that moment she conceived the
most deadly enmity to Port Royal, and the most
rancorous animosity against her former benefac
tresses ; and she resolved to leave nothing untried
to overthroAV the monastery ; or at least to induce
the church and the court to proceed to extremities
against those Avho conducted it.
Such was the Soeur Catherine de St FlaAie
Passart, so famous for her treachery, her detrac
tions, and her intrigues ; and such were the feelings
by Avhich she was actuated towards those, who had
received her a poor friendless girl, and who had
provided for her Avhole family.
She resolved then to compass, if possible, the
ruin of those to whom she was indebted for all
the comforts she possessed. This, howcA^er, she
could not accomplish OA'ertly; not only could she
attain her end more surely, and with less inconve
nience to herself, by becoming a secret traitor
than an open enemy; but likewise, having pro
fessed to outvie every person in the house, in zeal
for Jansenism, she could scarcely unblushingly
turn about, and immediately espouse openly the
precisely opposite side. It might, indeed, have
seemed a sufficiently difficult task, to accomplish
persuading the archbishop of Paris and the Jesuit
Vol. L 39

306 memoirs of
party, Avhom she had so violently opposed, of her
sincerity. Had they been good men, they Avould
doubtless have felt little inclined to trust one,
Avho began by undertaking the part of a spy, to
betray those among whom she professed to live as
a sister. But how easily do persons delude them
selves, when governed by Avorldly interests. The
t;ourt was adverse to Port Royal : and the arch
bishop was the creature of the court. It became
then necessary to him to find a tool by any means.
Hence he easily received the secret recantation of
the Soeur Flavie, who professed that she clearly
saw the error of her ways, and should never have
embraced the errors of Jansenism, but from
having been misled by the subtlety and dangerous
finesses of the nuns of Port Royal ; and that she
had been overborne by the commanding talents
of the M. Angelique, and the M. Agnes; and the
literary acuteness of their niece the M. Angelique
de St. Jean, and entangled in the wiles of sophis
try, by the tAvo ingenious Aoung nuns, the Soeurs
Christine Briquet, and Eustoquie de St. Bregy
Flescelles. She had indeed, she confessed, for a
time fallen ; but God, in distinguishing mere}",
had vouchsafed by an especial revelation, not only
to unmask all their plots, and to show her that she
Avas to obey her sujDcriors in all things ; but, as a
still more signal favour, he had appointed and
selected her to atone for her past transgressions,
by more effectually devoting herself to the service
of the hierarchy, by narroAvly observing the nuns
of Port Royal, and secretly bringing the arch-

port royal. 307
bishop and his myrmidons, a report of their pro
ceedings. The archbishop's anxiety to obtain a
tool, by Avhose instrumentality he might please
the court, induced him to an easy credence ; or
at least, to an easy profession of credence in this
tale. The Soeur Flavie was secretly restored to
favour; and from thence forward, devoted herself
to become a spy over her sisters, and a traitress to
her benefactresses.
Thus was it, that Soeur Flavie, finding her
schemes of aorarrandizement in the convent de-
OO
feated, suddenly changed her mode of proceeding,
and true only to her ambitious spirit, resolved to
ingratiate herself with the enemies of Port Royal ;
and especially with the Archbishop of Paris, who
was at their head. How little do we at the
moment of departure from God, and of yielding
to evil passions, perceive the termination of the
course; and how continually the evil, first al
lowed in the will, betrays us to that tempter,
Avho beguiles on from precipice to precipice, from
fall to fall, till his unwary dupes find themselves
engulphed in eternal and inextricable ruin. At
the period of which Ave speak, the Soeur Flavie
Passart only probably felt nettled, at being no
longer solicited to fill offices of which she ima
gined her talents rendered her capable; and
Avhen giving AA'ay to her resentment, she revenged
herself, by fomenting the dissentions between
Port Royal and its ecclesiastical superiors; she
probably only at that time intended to compel
the M. Angelique and Agnes to place her in the

308 memoirs of
offices she coveted, and to oblige them to yield
her some post of honour, through the authority of
the Archbishop. Had any one then told her,
that she would cause the imprisonment of her
benefactresses, and the adoption of measures, by
which the lives of many of her sisters would be
miserably sacrificed, she Avould have probably
thought it impossible ; and replied v\ ith Hazael,
"Is thy servant a dog, that he should do these
things?" 0, how awful a thing is it to depart
from the living God, and to hearken to the voice
of a stranger! One evil yielded to, opens the
source of others : and hoAv often, as the awful
punishment and judgment for Avilful departure,
does God permit stronger temptations to urge,
and the besetting sin to find its full scope, and
thus to draw down its full retribution. The Soeur
Flavie Passart from that hour, became devoted to
the Jesuit party. Her great zeal for Jansenism
caused her to be unsuspected by the nuns. It
now apparently greatly increased ; thus enabling
her effectually to act the double part, of fomenting
all the scruples of the nuns against signature;
pointing out every passage of Scripture against
denying Christ, and urging them to the most
decided opposition; and then betraying to the
Archbishop, the scruples she had herself excited,
and the counsels she had sometimes alone sup
ported or even suggested. By these means,
she vaguely hoped, and not without reason, that
the Archbishop might be induced to depose all the
officers, and possibly some of the superior nuns;

PORT ROYAL. 309
after Avhich a re-election must take place, in which
she herself could not fail to come in for some con
siderable office, both from the interest of the
archbishop, and as the just reward of her subser
viency ; and on the part both of the nuns and the
archbishop, as the just meed of her distinguished
talents. With this view, she outwardly professed
renoAved zeal for the cause of the unsuspecting
nuns ; whom she in vain sought by every means
ill her power, to stir up to such violent and im
proper measures, that they might irritate the
archbishop to dismiss them : but this scheme having
failed, she secretly exercised her talents for in
vention, not only by betraying the counsels they
really held, but by wholly misrepresenting their
conduct and words. Her treasons began in the
year 1661, almost immediately after the M. An
gelique's death ; it seems singular that this very
Soeur Flavie Passart, was mistress of the children,
at the time of the occurrence of the remarkable
cure of Mile. Perrier; and that she was the very
person who bade her pray to Christ, as she applied
the sacred thorn. She also Avas the first person
Avho declared its miraculous effect. Hence she
Avas doubly guilty, in thus acting counter to what
(Avhether the fiict Avere true or false) she had her
self, not many months before, declared to be sup
ported by a notable miracle.
The Soeur Flavie, at first, confined her ambition
to that of deposing the present officers ; but M.
Perefixe, the archbishop, having one day hinted
that they might be imprisoned for a season, and

310 memoirs of
dispersed in other convents, till the monastery
was reduced to obedience, she at once beheld
the door open to that career of ambition she
had imagined for ever closed against her. She
doubted not, that if she could but obtain the
exile for life of her benefactress, that her abilities
and serAices would be of the greatest use to the
archbishop, in influencing the community, and
that he would, therefore, if she could only effect
their expulsion, Avithout question install her into
the abbacy itself. She therefore used redoubled
diligence, in endeavouring to insinuate herself into
all their counsels ; both to exasperate the nuns
against their ecclesiastical superiors, and to en
venom the mind of the court party against them.
Although the nuns had not the slightest suspicion
of her treachery ; yet the violent measures she
counselled, made them not anxious for her pre
sence. They were, however, not long in discover
ing they were betrayed ; and that their most
secret counsels, and the part taken by each, were
immediately made known to their enemies;
though they could not imagine who was the trai
tor. The Soeur Flavie, who only Avished herself
to be abbess, persuaded the archbishop, that if
twenty-six of the principal nuns were imprisoned
in various monasteries, the rest might be reduced
to obedience, by a person of talent, and devoted
to the church. Which expression she thought
could only point out herself. Accordingly, one
morning the archbishop came, attended by a long
t' .dn of civil authorities to Port Royal de Paris,

PORT ROYAL. 311
and arrested sixteen of the principal nuns,
amongst whom was the aged M. Agnes, and
imprisoned them in various convents, under lock
and key; a short time after which, he paid a
similar visit to Port Royal des Champs, imprison
ing ten nuns. The spirit of Port Royal Avill
perhaps be best exhibited in their own relation of
this afflicting event. The following are extracts
from one of the nun's relation of M. Perefixe's visit
to their monastery at Paris :
"On Thursday, 21st of August, his Grace the
Archbishop arrived at half-past twelve; having
first entered the church, he commanded the attend
ance of the whole community, to Avhich he made a
long discourse, the object of which was, to declare
that since they had refused to subscribe the for
mulary condemning Jansenius, he was resolved to
exercise his authority, in compelling their obe
dience. He then required a list of all the sisters
of Port Royal, arranged in the order of succession
in which they had entered the house, with the
family name, and name of religion of CA'cry nun
respectively affixed. He then commanded them,
in a voice of thunder, to choose between obedience
and liberty; or disobedience and exile, excommu
nication and imprisonment. After that, he or
dered the community to retire into the room of
the M. Agnes, Avhich was close by; and that each
nun should appear separately before him, accord
ing to the order of priority, and one by one
severally accede to the signature, or submit to the
sentence. Our little company, full of consternation

312 MEMOIRS OF
and fear, lest either themselves or any in their
community might fall, thus having to encounter
singly the authority of the archbishop and his
clergy, felt as the disciples did, Avhen each
inquired, " Is it I ?" In this state of awful sus
pense and distrust, they pressed round the M.
Agnes, then in her seventy-first year; the only
surviving foundress of their reform. She took the
testament, and at the place in which she opened,
found the text, " Haec est bora vestra, et potestas
tenebrarum." " Yes," said the venerable Mere
Agnes, " this is indeed the hour of the power of
darkness;" but the same God has also declared,
' as thy day so shall thy strength be ;' and has
commanded, that ' he who walks in darkness, and
has no light, should stay himself in peace, upon
the name of the Lord.'
" We all then thought not only, that the hour
of suffering was come, and that Satan Avas about
to sift us like wheat, but that our Lord prays for
his church, as he did for that apostle on Avhom it
was founded, that their faith should not fail. We
then read together our Saviour's prayer in the
garden of Gethsemane, before his passion ; and
there sat together at his feet in silent supplication.
First one, and then another, going out as the one
preceding returned and silently took her place;
all remaining in the most painful suspense, and
none knowing who had proved faithful.
" In this state things remained, during four
hours; which M. Perefixe employed in endea
vouring to shake the constancy of our little group ;

PORT ROYAL. 313
after which he ordered the whole community to
assemble in the Chapter house, which was accor
dingly done. The pause between our assembly
and his entrance, was a most anxious one. None
knowing what part the others had taken, but
from the opinion they might have formed of their
fidelity. The Archbishop soon entered in full
pontificals. His countenance was terrible. He
seated himself in his chair of state. He then rose
in the midst, and said, that seeing their disobe
dience, obstinacy, and rebellion, in preferring
through pride, what they termed 'conscience,' to
the judgment of their superiors; and not having
yielded to their remonstrances, he noAV, this day,
declared them rebellious, disobedient to the
church, and incapable of participation in the
sacraments, or any other holy thing. He therefore
forbade their approaching the altar as wholly un
worthy, contumacious, and mutinous ; and more
over, he warned them to prepare for his return at
the earliest day, to denounce a signal punishment
which should make them tremble. He then
turned his back upon us, and prepared to go.
Our whole assembly Avept in silence, and in excess
of grief. The Archbishop, just as he was going
out, perceiving through the windows several
carriages of visitors, just arrived, and amongst
others, that of the Princess of Guimenee, who
Avas a particular friend to the house, turned back
a fcAV steps, and addressing himself' to the sisters,
Avho were not yet dispersed, exclaimed, with a
warmth and terrible emotion : " I expressly forbid
Vol. I. 40

314 MEMOIRS OF
you all, and every one, under pain of rebellion
and disobedience, to have any communication
whatever, with any one individual out of this
monastery ; and if you have the hardihood to
contravene this order, in any degree, you shall see
the cojisequence ; aye, and bitterly repent too,
disobeying your archbishop." The Soeur Ange
lique de St. Jean answered, " All punishments,
my lord, must be light after deprivation of the
sacraments." Our excellent abbess, Madame de
Ligny, niece to the Chancellor Seguier, being
about to speak, he stopped her before she had
uttered a sentence, by saying, in a fit of exaspera
tion amounting to fury, " Hold your tongue, hold
your tongue ! you are a little, proud, impertinent,
self-conceited fool ! wholy destitute of common
sense ; talking of what you know nothing ; in
short a pert, insolent, ignorant fool ! you know
not Avhat you mean, and one need only to look in
your face to see it." So low could the burthen of
supporting a bad cause sink the dignity of the
Archbishop of Paris ! perplexing him, and making
him equally forget that he was by profession a
Christian, by birth a gentleman and a noble, and
by God's providence an ecclesiastic of the first
rank, in that kingdom Avhich professes to hold tho
first place in Christendom. Whilst speaking in
this strange manner, his footmen and pages Avere
assisting him to put on his cloak. Some sisters
having besought him in vain to restore them to
the participation of the sacrament, on his refusal,
added, " Well, my lord, there is in heaven a

PORT ROYAL. 315
Judge, who reads the intentions of the heart, and
who knows that a conscientious scruple alone pre
vents our immediate compliance with your wishes ;
and to him we commend our cause." To which he
answered, "Aye, aye, Avhen we get to heaven it
will be time enough to consider that, and see hoAV
tilings go."
The abbess having said, " My Lord Archbishop,
it is not many weeks ago since your grace made
a formal official visit of our house, and drew up a
document of attestation to the piety and good or
der you were pleased to say prevailed there !" —
To which he impatiently ansAvered, " What is all
that to the purpose ? what signifies it that you are
holy, virtuous, religious, and pious? I tell you,
though pure as angels, you are proud as Lucifer, if
you refuse to yield your conscience to your supe
riors." Our sisters, in the agony of being refused the
sacraments, fell at his feet, and said, " 0 my Lord,
this is the bitterness of death ;" to which he replied,
going aAvay, " Go, go, comfort yourselves, you shall
not die without having the pleasure of seeing me
again, and that right speedily too !" So saying, he
entered his carriage, and departed. We went to
church to say the Miserere, which we did, prostrate,
and Avith so many tears and sighs that our words
were scarcely intelligible, but to God Avho reads the
heart. "A few days after this episcopal visit, a lady-
informed us it was currently reported in Paris,
that the principal officers and nuns of the monas
tery were to be imprisoned. Various reports

316 MEMOIRS OF
reached us from day to day. All agreed that the
most violent measures would be resorted to; and
the archbishop Avas reported to have reiterated at
a public council, several times : " These nuns
will not sign, because they make it a point of
conscience not to do it ; but I make it a point of
honour, that they absolutely shall sign." On the
2-jth of August, the archbishop went abroad early
in the morning, and his carriage, as well as those
of his emissaries, was seen hastily going from
convent to convent, which left little doubt, but he
was securing cells for the imprisonment of those
nuns he meant to remove ; and that he Avould,
most probably, next day, put his plan in execu
tion. " The news of these measures, together with
all the reports that reached our ears, sufficiently
convinced us that our hour Avas come, and that
Ave Avere on the CA^e of the separation so long
threatened ; which we had feared above all things,
and which Avas equally terrible to us, both in a
spiritual and in a temporal point of view. In the
first, dreading lest the horrors of a long and
rigorous solitary confinement should cause us to
fail ; on the other, shrinking from a separation
from persons so dear to us, and Avhose counsel had
been our greatest earthly means of support and
consolation. In this terrible trial most of us
passed the night of Monday in the choir, in
praA^ers and tears, before the holy sacrament. —
It was from the very ground of our heart, that we
implored the divine mercy and support. We did

PORT ROYAL. 317
indeed feel of a truth, that without him we could do
nothing ; and we besought him, if possible, to avert
from us a tempest, which humanly speaking, seemed
so disproportioned to our great weakness. Or, that
if it Avere his will that Ave should drink of this cup,
that he would enable us to take it even to the dregs,
without dishonouring his most holy cause, or flinch
ing from declaring his truth. We earnestly prayed
for the spirit of the apostles, Avho rejoiced they Avere
counted worthy to suffer these things for his name's
sake. The night being thus passed, next morning the
bell rung for assembling at the usual hour. As
we convened, we looked upon each other's faces
as those who might, perhaps, see each other in
the flesh no more ; and at that hour, how little
did differences of taste or disposition between some
of us appear. We only felt and vieAved each
other, as those who were united by the strong
bond of all being ready to suffer for our common
Lord. The M. Abbess being obliged at this
trying moment to be absent on business, the M.
Prioress held the assembly. She began by stat
ing, that this would probably be the day of our
dispersion. She then spoke of the strong bond of
union in the truth ; a union which no change of
time or place can sever. She then most humbly
asked pardon of the community for any faults
she might have committed toAvards them; and
commended herself earnestly to their prayers, not
knowing if she should ever see them again. At
this moment a person entered, to give notice that

318 MEMOIRS OP
six nuns of St. Mary had been sent for by the
archbishop, who were to hold themselves in
readiness to accompany him that day to Port
Royal ; probably to occupy the places of those he
intended to remove. The Soeur Anne Eugenie
immediately Avent out to the aged Mere Agnes,
to Avhom she said, Avith her usual peace and tran
quillity, " My mother, the hour is come ; this is
the day of our dispersion ;" then turning to the
parlour, Avhere the venerable M. d'Andilly, then
aged seventy-six, was Avaiting for his sister, she
said in saluting him, " Haec dies quam fecit
Doininus." Immediately after, the Mere Agnes
entering said, " My dear brother, I cannot con
verse Avith you, but I came to say with you, ' Haec
dies,' " Avhich having said, she took hold of both
his hands between hers, and • said with deep emo
tion, " My dear brother, farewell ! we haA^e often
conversed together of God ; we must now converse
only Avith GoD, but often to him of each other. —
He Avill be in the midst of us ; He Avill be present
Avith us ; and Avhen He is present, no blessing can
be Avanting. Farewell, dear brother !" Mean
Avhile she proceeded, supported by Soeur Anne
Eugenie, to the assembled community. Our
Mere, Madame de Ligny, had been spending the
short time that remained, in reading various letr
ters, Avhich had been Avritten to us during our
persecution; saving, "She thought nothing more
calculated to strengthen us;" "Except seeking
strength of our Lord himself," said M. Agnes,
entering whilst she was yet speaking ; when with

PORT ROYAL. 319
one accord, they prostrated themselves in silence
before Him, calling on Him like Hannah in their
hearts, but no voice Avas heard ; tears alone flowed.
They called, and the God of peace answered,
and revealed himself, by filling their hearts with
a peace past all understanding. The venerable
Mere Agnes first rose from her knees, and ad
dressing the community, said Avitli a deep humi
lity, which cannot be described : " My dear sisters,
only a moment remains to me ; I Avisli then to
employ it in most humbly asking pardon for all
the faults I have committed amongst vou ; both in
direction, and in all ways. I beseech you to
pray God, that he may give me grace to accept the
humiliation and deprivation he calls me to. I
shall probably see your faces on earth no more. At
my age, it is most unlikely I should return. Par
don me then for faults, which toAvards you I
cannot repair; and give thanks Avith me to God,
that he has permitted me to suffer Avith you, my
dear children, for his truth."
" Scarcely had she uttered these words, at
Avhich all the community were dissolved in tears,
when a sound of carriages and horses, trampling
and voices, Avas heard ; and a messenger ran in
breathless, to announce the approach of the arch
bishop in full state ; with a train of ecclesiastics,
constables, and armed men, followed by eight
coaches. The grief and consternation excited by
this intelligence, cannot be expressed ; tears, cries,
and groans, Avere heard on every side. E\-ery
body ran here and there, not knoAving where

320 MEMOIRS OF
they went. The abbess was informed, that the
almoner of the archbishop wished to speak to
her. She went doAvn accordingly to the parlor,
Avhere many followed her.
" The M. Agnes returned to her own room, and
Avas just about to kneel down to prayer, when the
nuns rushed in, and with one accord threw them
selves at her feet, and in tears implored her bless
ing. She excused herself, saying, " God, my
children, is the source of blessing ; he is the
fountain of all benediction." But they still urg
ing her, in great distress, she clasped her hands,
and said, " I do, my dear children, with the
heart of a mother, who Avill never see you more,
commend each and all of you, to him with whom
are all benedictions ;" so saying, she laid her
trembling hands on the head of each, embracing
each as she knelt before her. But their grief
quite overpoAvering them, especially the young
ones, and crying aloud, the Soeur Angelique de
St. Jean, then mistress of the novices, and a
worthy niece of the M. Angelique, said, "My
sisters, God is present, and can you thus despair?"
A bell being now rung in the parlor of Saint
Theresa, the Soeur Angelique went down ; she
found M. Chamillard, an ecclesiastic of the arch
bishop. He told her, she should go to the
church, to receive the archbishop. She replied,
all the community were about to assemble in the
choir, and to open the great grate of inclosure, to
hear what it might please his grace to say. M.
Chamillard answered, with a look of ineffable

PORT ROYAL. 321
contempt, "What of that, my sister? all that
shoAV of respect will profit you nothing." " Sir,"
replied the Soeur Angelique, "Ave wish to con
sider, not Avhat will profit us, but what belongs
to the respect we owe to our ecclesiastical su
perior." " Whilst our mother was speaking to the arch
bishop's Almoner, the nuns were all pressing
round the venerable Mere Agnes ; taking, as thej-
thought, a final leave of her. Some closely em
braced her, without having poAver to utter a
syllable ; others cast themseh^es at her feet,
where they remained as it were half dead ; others
recommended themselves to her prayers ; and
others conjured her to say something to each of
them, of Avhich they might retain a remembrance,
as of her last words ; but what could she say, in
so pressing an affliction; or how could she suffice
to answer so many? Her actions, or rather her
tranquillity, spoke more forcibly than words. Her
countenance marked, indeed, intense .feeling, but
its settled peace was not disturbed ; and her force
and constancy, the fruits of her long tried and
eminent piety, seemed alone to be the stay of the
whole community : and when, having paused, to
allow a certain expanse of- feeling to her sisters,
she looked round on them with the compassionate
tranquillity you know, and said, "My dear
sisters, I can only say. Rejoice always, and in
everyi;hing giA^e thanks; in everything, once
more, give thanks; for from all we shall reap
abundant blessing." Her words, and the manner
Vol. L 41

322 MEMOIRS OF
which accompanied them, seemed to touch every
heart ; and those who came to mourn knelt down,
enabled to close with thanksgivings, and songs of
praise. "My sister Agnes of St. Thecla, finding her
self animated by this spirit, said to the M. Agn^s,
that she had often felt confusion in reading the
Scripture, " Behold, we have left all and followed
thee." Thinking she had left nothing, except
Avealth and a title, and the luxuries of life, which
are nothing ; whilst on the other hand, she had
gained in that monastery everything. Her rclar
tions whom she best loved, having retired there;
and having found in her noAv associates, not only
infinitely more than she had lost, but more than
she had ever hoped for ; and with that, peace of
heart and mind ; but she now hoped, for the first
time in her life, to be favoured to be one of those
Avho really leave all which is most truly valuable
and dear, to follow Christ.
My Soeur Margaret of St. Thecla, transported
by another movement, considered Avitli admiration
the guards and constables, Avho noAV began to pour
into the court yard of the monastery, ready to use
force to compel our expulsion, and said, "0 ma
Mere, is it possible that we, Avho are such un
worthy disciples, should be sent for 'with a band
of men ; with swords, and staves, and chief priests,'
just after the manner of our Lord himself?"
The gates then of the great court of the monas
tery being opened; the archbishop's state coach,
with others containing his officers, silver cross

PORT ROYAL. 323
bearers, and ecclesiastics, and eight empty coaches,
with twenty constables with staves, and eighty
soldiers fully armed, and with muskets on their
shoulders, entered and arranged themselves round
the court, with loaded fire arms and fixed bayo
nets. Guards were placed at the doors; and the
archbishop alighted from his coach in full state, with
his large archiepiscopal silver gilt cross borne before
him, his mitre on his head, and his train borne by
numerous ecclesiastics.
As he alighted, M. d'Andilly, bare headed, his
hair white as silver, threw himself at the arch
bishop's feet. He had in that monastery six
daughters, and had had as many sisters, two of
Avhom, the venerable Mere Agnes, and Eugenie
de I'incarnation, yet lived. And in the burying
ground of that monastery, Avere the remains of his
mother and grandmother, both of whom had died
exemplary nuns of Port Royal ; and one of whom
had bestowed on it that very house. He uttered
not a word, but a tear betrayed what he felt on
seeing the hour come, when they were, for their
constancy in the truth, to be torn from that very
house their munificence had bestowed ; and to be
immured separately in prisons, in destitution of
everything. The archbishop raised up M. d'Andilly,
and took him apart to converse with him. M.
d'Andilly said, " He was truly unfortunate to have
had a life prolonged until seventy-six years, to
behold what he was now to witness." The arch
bishop replied, " I am sorry too, but they compel
me to it by their obstinacy." M. d'Andilly replied.

32-4 MEMOIRS OF
"My Lord, there is no laAvful thing in which they
would not immediately feel it an honour to obey
you with the utmost submission ; but in this
instance, it is impossible for them to obey, because
it is against their conscience to subscribe to an im
putation against another, on a matter they knoAV
nothing of." " Conscience," returned the arch
bishop, " what conscience ? have not I resolved all
possible scruples?" M. d'Andilly made no reply,
but besought the archbishop to remember the favour
he had before promised him, if ever this dispersion
should be resolved upon ; -viz. " that he should
be at liberty to take his three daughters, and his
sister, the M. Agnes, to reside with him, at his
country seat of Pomponne." But this, the arch
bishop declared, could not be done, having resolved
to dispose of them elsewhere.
The archbishop then entered the church, followed
by all his train, civil, military, and ecclesiastical,
and;kneeling before the altar, sent one of his almo
ners, meantime, as was already observed, to ad
vertise our Mere Abbess of his arrival; and to desire
that the gates of inclosure might be thrown open,
for the reception both of himself and those of his
train he judged necessary.
The Mere Abbess, accompanied by all the other
officers of the monastery, and by the Avhole com
munity, entered the ante-choir to receive him,
and the door of the sacraments was thrown open ;
when the archbishop entered, accompanied by
twelve ecclesiastics, his grand vicar, his official,
his almoners, his grand silver-gilt cross bearer.

PORT ROYAL. 325
his secretary, and his notary apostolic. The door
being shut, lie ordered the community to attend in
the chapter '.iou.'e.
" When they AA'ere assembled, he began a dis
course, by- representing his OAvn mildness, and the
obstinate resistance of Port Royal, to the decrees
of the church ; and after dwelling much at length,
on his own long forbearance, he proceeded by
declaring, it was noAV time to adopt other mea
sures; that he had already interdicted them the
sacraments, or communication with any persons
Avithout; but that the day was now come, to
imprison the most refra,ctory, and those whose
influence might be supposed to extend over the
community. He was now come to execute that
design, and desired that they Avould listen atten
tively to the names of those he meant to take
aw-ay ; he then repeated the names of the Mere
Magdalene of St. Agnes Ligny, abbess; the Mere
Catherine ; Agnes of St. Paul Arnauld, sister to
the M. Angelique; the Soeur Angelique Theresa,
daughter to M. d'Andilly, who Avas to accompany
her aunt ; the Mere Marie Dorothee ; the Soeur
Angelique de St. Jean, and; twelve others, all of
whom he ordered to be withdrawn, and imprisoned
in separate convenis till further orders..
"As soon as the archbishop ceased' speaking,"
our Mere said, " My Lord, we esteem ourselves
obliged, in conscience, to appeal against this Aio
lence ; and we hereby appeal and protest against
it." All the community joined in one voice^ in
the same sentiment. " What," rephed the arch-

326 MEMOIRS OP
bishop, "do you protest against your archbishop?
take care it is not worse for you ! I laugh at all
that, protest, appeal, address, do all you will, but
you shall obey me !" Then turning to the offi
cers, ecclesiastical and civil, who Avere with him,
he said, " Gentlemen, you know your duty, do
it." The officers at once rose, and seemed about
to seize on the nuns ; when our Meres, and several
sisters rose, and approaching the archbishop,
assured him, that they should yield Avithout
violence, though without prejudice to their legal
protestation and appeal against the legality of his
measure. "All the community then, with one accord,
prostrated themselves at his feet, and besought
his mercy, representing that he well knew, con
science alone withheld them from obedience, as to
the signature ; declaring the excess of grief, to
which he thus reduced the community, by render
ing them orphans ; and that he gave the death blow
to the Mere Agnes, whose wisdom and piety was in
honour in all France : who was in the seventy -first
year of her age, and who, within two years, had
had three attacks of apoplexy. That it was forcing
a dagger to her heart, thus to ruin the estabhsh-
ment her late sister had formed : and that God
Avould, at the day of judgment, judge this unjust
sentence ; and that then our conscience Avould not
fail to be recognized. He mocked again, saying,
" Aye, aye ; we shall see, Ave shall see. It will be
time enough to settle the right of the business when
we get there."

PORT ROYAL. 327
" Some of the sisters having thrown themselves
into the arms of our Meres, to bid them a last fare
well, fearing they might never see them more ; he
turned them out of the chapter house, Avhere we
were standing, and sent them into the choir, where
they remained in prayer.
"The archbishop then went to the M. Agnes,
and our Mere Abbess, whom he reproached :
saying, that their own brothers being bishops,
they ought the rather to honour the episcopal
character in him, by paying him instant obe
dience, instead of refusing compliance to what tho
rest of the world submitted. One of the nuns
having her packet to arrange, he said in great
wrath, " Why does she not come instantly ? I
will have her seized by the neck and heels, if she
does not appear instantly." In short, his anger
was so violent, that when his prisoners were
assembled, and he bade them follow him out, he
even passed the door, which he knew perfectly
Avell, until reminded by the Soeur. Angelique de
St. Jean, who showed it him. Our Mere Abbess,
being on the threshold of the door, humbly asked
the archbishop to inform her what was her desti
nation ; but the archbishop instead of acquainting
her, took her roughly by the shoulder, and pushed
her out, answering harshly, " Get along ! get
along! do not trouble yourself; it is enough that
I know it."
" Our other Meres and sisters Avent afterwards.
What most called forth the compassion of those
Avho witnessed it, was the Mfere Agnes, who, on

328 MEMOIRS OF
account of her great age and infinnities, could
scarcely get into the carriage, though assisted by a
chair. Yet the tranquil serenity of her countenance,
and the constancy exhibited in those of her com
panions, imparted consolation, even to those who
were left behind.
"M. d'Andilly stood at the door, amongst
several friends, to bid the last farewell to his
sister and daughter. As he drew near the M.
Agnes, to bid her adieu, she said to him in a Ioav
tone of voice, but Avhich sufficiently marked her
constancy, " It seems to me, my brother, that as
Caiaphas said formerly, that it was necessary that
one man should perish that the nation might be
saved ; so noAV, we may almost say, that one
monastery must perish for the truth, that all others
may not lose the knowledge of it."
" He received also his three daughters, who
threw themselves af his feet as- soon as they per
ceived hiin at the door, in order to implore his
last benediction. He gave it to each separately,
they not having come out together, Avith all the
tenderness of a good father, but Avith deep grief
He exhorted them to constancy, and conducted
each successively to the steps of the altar, to ofier
her a second time to God; it being the same
place Avhore he had himself led up each, to make
her religious profession. Each time he offered
them as living sacrifices, yet how AAide Avas the
diflerence; at their religious profe.'^sion, they
quitted the world to join a society of the excellent
in the earth, and that, a society containing very

PORT ROYAL. 329
many of their OAvn nearest and dearest relatives.
Now they Avere, at one stroke, to be severed both
from each other, from every one they knew upon
earth, and from all who might be spiritual helps to
them. On quitting the church, he accompanied
each to the carriage, and helped them in. Indeed,
he performed the same good office to all the captives.
The ecclesiastic who accompanied my Soeur Ange
lique de St. Jean, wishing to give her some tem
poral consolation, she looked down on her scarlet
cross, and replied, " I expect no consolation from
temporal things, but from Christ alone. We carry
the image of his cross on us ; may we bear the
impression of its reality within us. In the cross,
of which this is an image, I place all my hope."
As the carriages filed off, the archbishop said
laughing, " Well, Ave have just sent off tAvelve ;
we will now do the same good office to twelve
more." So saying he returned to the choir,
where he was much surprised to find the nuns as
sembled, and the services conducted with as much
fervour and devotion, as if nothing extraordinary
had occurred. The archbishop then visited the
whole of the house and gardens, followed by all
his suite, both civil and military ; and after many
scenes of similar violence to those already exhi
bited, he assembled the nuns once more, and
declared that having taken away their own officers,
he was about to introduce others, under whose
control he should for the present place them ; for
which purpose he had selected six nuns of the order
of visitation, to replace their exiled companions ; and
Vol. I. 42

330 MEMOIRS OF
that they Avould arrive immediately. Accord
ingly, about an hour elapsed, during Avhich the
archbishop manifested the utmost impatience at
their non-appearance; opening the door repeat
edly, calling his people, and commanding that
one messenger should be sent after another, till
they appeared. He then paced up and down in
the ante-choir; his chair of state was presented
to him, but he refused to be seated; happening
to see some of the lay sisters weeping, he ex
claimed Avith great contempt, " Be silent ! you
have no cause to weep, you ought rather to
rejoice ; your Meres are taken away because they
Avere heretics, and disobedient like yourselves!"
M. de la Brunetiere, wishing to apologize for
the archbishop, said to the sister Eustoquie de St.
Flescelles de Bregy, " My dear Soeur, be com
forted, this cannot last long ; his grace, I am sure,
however appearances may seem to the contrary,
feels more pain at what he is obliged to inflict,
than your Meres, Avho are imprisoned, feel at this
moment." " I do not doubt it. Sir," replied the
Soeur Eustoquie, " with respect to our A-enerable
and excellent Meres, they, by the grace of God,
only experience a conflict in their natural affec
tions; but the peace of God is in the bottom of
their hearts; they serve God, and therefore their
consciences are at rest." After some hours spent
in scenes of a similar description, the archbishop
took his departure for a season, after again having
urged the sisters to receive the strange nuns as
their officers, which they answered by a positive

port royal. 331
refusal to comply, having officers of their own ; and
the nuns he proposed sending, not only being ille
gally imposed on them, since they were not elected
by their oAvn choice ; but moreover, beings nuns of
a different order, they were therefore not even ca
pable of being elected, had it been their wish."
We will subjoin a short extract from the journal
of one of the exiled nuns, Avhich is interesting
both as exhibiting the spirit of Port Royal, and
because it is from the pen of the celebrated Mere
Angelique de St. Jean, niece to the Mere Ange
lique ; and avIio was afterwards so distinguished
as the abbess of Port Royal, in its most difficult
times. She was at this period mistress of the no-
Aices ; our extract commences at that period in the
archbishop's visit in which he had read to the nuns
assembled in the chapter house, the list of those he
had sentenced to exile ; amongst whom she was one
of the principal.
"After M. Perefixe had done speaking in the
chapter house, and had read the list of those he
meant to expel; our Mere Abbess, joined by the
whole community, protested against the validity
of this ordinance, to Avhich the archbishop angrily
replied, " Oh ! I understand perfectly ! yes, yes,
you refuse to obey," then looking at his ecclesi
astics he added, " Gentlemen, you know your
business;" this gave us to understand, he was
about to summon his archers to employ force, as
some of the ecclesiastics rose, and Avent out imme
diately. Our Mere and some of ourselves then
said, that we had no intention of offering any

332 MEMOIRS op
resistance, and. that we were all ready to go out,
but Avithout prejudice to thesvalidity of our appeal.
I confess that this act of open violence, almost
effaced at the moment, all thoughts of the course
of conduct, we had determined, it w^ould be right
to observe in such a case; and seeing that we
Avere surrounded with officers, soldiers, and priests,
Avlio came to seize us with 'swords, and staA-es,
and Aveapons,' I only thought of uniting myself
in spirit to Jesus Christ ; to suffer as he did, and
Avith him in silence, all that it might please God
to bring upon us. The first words that rose to my
lips, Avhen I entered the choir, where the arch
bishop had assembled us who were to be exiled,
in order to separate us from the community which
remained in the chapter, Avere those of St, Igna
tius ; " Greatly do I rejoice, that I am counted
Avorthy to suffer bonds for Christ;" and the first
movement of thankfulness Avas so great, that I felt
as complete an abandonment of the future, as if I
Avere going that moment to martyrdom ; and were
never again to see the house or the persons I was
quitting. Indeed, I think I Avas in the disposition
of persons ready to die; Avho are ordinarily so
occupied Avith the vast thoughts of that blissful
eternity, on the verge of Avhich they stand, that
they are no longer engaged Avith those regrets and
yearnings of human tenderness, they once enter
tained for those they loved best. I considered all
my earthly attachments, but as the various parts
of the one complete sacrifice I was called on to
offer ; Avhich was to be dismembered before it was

PORT ROYAL. 333
consumed; and I only thought of presenting to
God, all the persons I left behind, Avith the same
unreserve with which I offered myself I had
some time to wait, whilst my twelve fellow victims
Avere assembled. After having received the arch
bishop's benediction, I Avent out. My father Avas
at the door, in Avaiting for me. I tlircAV myself on
my knees before him to ask his blessing ; it being
reasonable he should bless the victim, Avhom he
for the third time offered to God. Then he con
ducted me to the same altar, to Avhich he led me
Avhen I assumed the religious habit, and took my
vows. The lieutenant of police Avas standing at
the door of the chapel, and asked my name; I
told him my appellation of religion, Soeur Ange
lique de St. Jean; on AA-hich he demanded my
family name. Some persons near him, said in a
whisper, ' She is led by M. Arnauld d'Andilly ;
it is one of his daughters J' he made a sign Avith
his head, that he knew it well, but he wished to
have the pleasure of making me repeat a name,
now so odious. I then told it aloud, without
blushing; for in such circumstances, confessing
our name is like confessing the cause of God.
From thence my father led me to the steps at the
rail of the altar, where I do not doubt but that
he sacrificed me to God in his heart, like his
Isaac ; for though not his only child, I might just
then, perhaps, be in some sense considered so;
as he had just given up my two sisters, who went
before me. I silently made my sacrifice on my
part also ; when raising my head, my eyes caught

334 MEMOIRS OF
the picture over the door, of our Lord, as the good
Shepherd, walking amongst thorns, and carrying his
lambs in his bosom. I could not refrain from saying
aloud the verse, ' Bone Pastor, Panis vere.' My
father then led me to the carriage, with my Soeur
Candide le Cerf, Helene and Gertrude, and an
ecclesiastic unknoAvn to me. It seemed to me a
good presage, that God gave me as companions of
my journey, those of my sisters whom I believed
Avere most strong in their faith. We said not a
Avord on the road ; each praying to God separately,
and each feeling that the Good Shepherd we invoked,
Avas indeed in the midst of us. I felt but little pain
during our journey, my heart being so overflowing
Avith gratitude, at the favour of being selected to
suffer such shame for his truth, that I could only
sing anthems and hymns of thanksgiving in my
heart the Avhole Avay; and amongst others I re
member especially, that of the dedication, ' Urbs
Jerusalem beata.' Believing Ave had the favour to
be amongst the living stones of that spiritual tem
ple, fashioned indeed separately, and by repeated
bloAvs of the hammer; but every blow of w^hich
should square and polish it, till it should at
length, in God's good time, be fltted for its place
in the temple of the new Jerusalem above ; of
Avhich God is the light, and Avhere sighing and
tears are for ever fled away ; and Avhere I trusted,
I "should soon be united Avith all the beloved com
pany 1 had left.
" I was the first who was set down at the con
vent of Annunciation ; having embraced, and bid a

PORT ROYAL. 335
long farewell to my dear companions ; who waited,
while the ecclesiastic, who accompanied me, deliv
ered up his prisoner to the prioress." So far Ave
have extracted from the account of the Mere Ange
lique de St. Jean. The imprisonment she under-
Avent, her persecutions, and the various feelings she
suffered, are beautifully described. She goes on to
say, " Being noAV alone in my prison ; at the end of
a long loft or gallery, and separated by four strongly
bolted doors and passages, from the inhabited part
of the house, I thought it probable my trial might
not continue long ; being subject to sudden attacks
in the head, Avhicb render me insensible ; and which
Avould be fatal did I not receive immediate help,
which, in a room so remote, I could not call for. It
Avas hoAvever, a sensible relief, after a whole day of
such cruel constraint, to find myself alone. As soon
as the bolts and bars were shut upon me ; and I
heard the steps of my jailor receding through the
long passages, and one door locked after another, I
prostrated myself before him, who is present every
where, and who led me in that solitude to live with
him, and for him. I thanked him for his grace, and
earnestly besought him to renew my strength, day
by day, for the combat. But when night was come,
and I rose from prayer, and Avas about to lie down
on my couch, to seek rest, I felt as if my heart,
which had been sustained till then, suddenly fell
from a great height, and was broken by the fall. In
one moment I felt OA^erwhelmed, and torn with all
the separations I had endured ; and Avith the suffer
ings of those I left behind. I in vain tried to turn

!Q

6 MEMOIRS OF PORT ROYAL,

the eyes of my mind from the vioAv; my AA-earied
frame and memory refused to obey; and I Avas
obliged to give free course to my tears ; and to say
truth, I shed very many in the course of that terrible
night ; in that aAvful conflict and combat between
grace and nature. HaAing no other arms than the
shield of faith to repel, not merely all the fiery
darts of the AAicked, but all the tenderness of nature :
and blessed be God, though my heart Avas torn, the
anchor of faith, sure and steadfast, did hold my soul
upon the rock. The storm indeed raged, but I felt
sustained, by the deep conviction of the happiness
God has attached to suffering for his sake : the ad-
A^antage there is in losing all, for the kingdom of
God ; and to partake of the cross of Christ, that we
may likewise be partakers of his glory. The next
day, Avhen my jailor appeared to conduct me doAvn
to mass ; the first Avords I heard, in approaching
the choir, were, ' Those who go forth Aveeping, sow
ing precious seed, shall reap in joy, and return laden
Avith sheaves.' "
In this prison, the Soeur Angelique w^as confined
for ten months, often being ten days together, with
out seeing a creature, except her jailor, who was
forbidden to speak to her, or to stay a moment
longer, than to set down the bread and water, the
only sustenance allowed her.

CHAPTER IX.

Nuns of the Visitation. — Doctrine of Implicit Obe
dience. — Port Royal de Paris. — Letters of M. de
St. Marthe, to Port Royal des Champs, and to the
Abbess of  .
We return from the exiled nuns to the bereft
community of Port Royal.
The abbess and nuns, who held the chief posts
in the monasteries of Port Royal des Champs, and
Port Royal de Paris, being seized, and temporarily
imprisoned in the convents; that they might be
induced, by intimidation and hard usage, to give
up the point in contest; the archbishop of Paris,
it may be remembered, had resolved to send
other nuns, of the visitation of the convent of St.
Mary, to fill up their places. This he did, partly
to seduce the community of Port Royal into com
pliance by persuasion, or terrify them by autho
rity; and partly to act as their jailors, and pre
vent the possibility of their drawing up any
representation against this unjust and illegal
43 ("3'')

338 MEMOIRS OF
usage, and to prevent the possibility, even if
draAA-n up, of such a document finding its Avay
beyond the walls of the convent. Thus were the
unfortunate nuns of Port Royal, not only deprived
of their own officers, but contrary to every rule,
their archbishop attempted to compel them to
submit to the government of nuns, not elected by
their own community, which was necessary to
their lawful establishment; but nuns Avhoni it
Avould have been wholly out of their power, had
they been so inclined, to elect; as they were
persons of a totally different religious rule. The
nuns of Port Royal were bound, therefore, to bear
their testimony against this total infringement of
their constitution. The strange nuns established
themselves at first in the infirmary; where they
only however spent a few days. For seeing they
Avere there too remote to \vatch over the actions
of the community, as narrowly as they had been
enjoined, they came out into the body of the
convent. The bereft captives meauAvhile, spoke
to their jailors with the greatest circumspection.
They endeavoured, by every means, to avoid com
munication with them ; but when it became
necessary to speak, they did so with great respect
and politeness. This was the more easy, as they
knew those nuns had this odious office imposed
on them, without any solicitation on their part,
and probably much against their inclination.
The nuns of the visitation, on the contrary, used
every possible effort, to enter into conversation
with those of Port Royal. This was particularly

PORT ROYAL. 339
done by those more especially charged by the
archbishop, with the office of converting, or rather
of subverting them ; Avhich these good, but mis
taken nuns, conceived to be a very important
duty ; and Avhich might much advance the glory
of God, and hence they exercised in it much
zeal. The day after the lawful superiors had been
taken away, M. Chamillard, a creature of the arch
bishop's, whom he had also forced on the nuns as
their ecclesiastical superior in defiance of their con
stitution, assembled the bereft community ; and
commanded them on the part of the archbishop, to
place all the keys of the monastery in the hands of
the nuns of St. Mary.
To this the community replied, " that it would
be out of their power to comply : for that the nuns
entrusted Avith the keys by their lawful superiors,
had no power to deliver them up, but into their
hands; nor could they under any circumstances,
receive as superiors, nuns not even belonging to
their OAvn order." M. Chamillard seemed much
chagrined, and told them they had better submit,
seeing they must do so in the end. In the after
noon ; the Mdre Eugenie, the superior of the nuns
of the visitation, assembled the nuns of Port
Royal, under pretext of paying her respects to the
community; but with the real intention of exe
cuting the designs intimated by M. Chamillard.
After embracing some of the nuns, she stated to
the Soeur Frangoise Claire, who filled the post of
tourriere, that she had orders from the archbishop

340 MEMOIRS OF
to place at the turn, in her stead, two nuns she
had brought with her; one to attend the turn,
and the other to transact all its business Avith those
without. That therefore, she had nothing to do
but to deliver up the keys of the inclosure and of
the parlors. This the Soeur Frangoise refused.
In vain did the Mere Eugenie urge, " that their
own officers were now taken aAvay, and that con
sequently they ought to receive whomsoever the
archbishop appointed." The Soeur Frangoise
replied, " that in the absence of their lawful
superiors, although they might willingly receive
any persons she might choose out of their own
number, which however Avould be an infringe
ment of their rights, as their officers were elective,
they had no poAver to receive any others." The
Soeur being returned to the turn, found the
strange nuns already established there by the
Mere Eugenie ; she did not hoAvever yield up to
them the keys, which the Port Royal nuns re
tained till the 24th of September; but under the
inspection of the tAvo nuns of the visitation, Avho
closely watched at the turn, everything that went
in or out of the monastery, and Avere ready,
through M. Chamillard, to give immediate notice
to the police. They proceeded to station nuns of
the visitation, as sentinels in the cloisters and the
dormitories : to prevent, if possible, the Port Royal
nuns from holding any private communications
with their own sisters. Thus were they, according
to their own observations, reduced in the space
of half a day, to a state of captivity in their ¦ wn

PORT ROYAL. 341
house. In the meantime, the Mere Eugenie, and
her assistants, the M^re Seraphine, and Marguerite
of St. Ehzabeth, treated the Port Royal nuns with
the greatest haughtiness and insolence. One of
their priests, M. Bail, observed, " that he thought
the Port Royal nuns, had been treated with far too
much lenity. That in Italy or Spain they would
have been dressed as devils and burnt alive." Two
indeed of the nuns of St. Mary, were very different
from the other ; the Mere Meaupeau and Sourdiere.
They were persons of contracted minds, yet of
amiable dispositions, and Avho showed their captives
every kindness in their power.
The M^re de Meaupeau especially, Avas an emi
nently devoted nun, and her conduct was truly
edifying. She was much attached to the nuns of
Port Royal ; nevertheless, she also seemed to con
sider that they were greatly mistaken, in not
blindly obeying their superior. This nun was
aunt to the celebrated Minister Fouquet. During
his prosperity she often prayed that something
might happen to humble him for his good; and
though his disgrace was accompanied with circum
stances she could not wish, yet the nuns of Port
Royal derived abundant subject of admiration and
edification, from the way in which she conducted
herself throughout the whole, and more especially
during that of his trial. It seemed quite doubtful,
Avhether even his life might be spared. Yet in the
midst of this heavy affliction and disgrace, at the
advanced age of seventy, her peace remained
uninterrupted; and her chief desire Avas, that all

342 MEMOIRS OF
might be done to the glory of God. Perhaps the
sorrows of her own family, made this good mother
feel more sympathy for the Port Royal nuns.
There is no doubt, however, but that it was truly
odious to her to be charged, even in name, Avith
such an occupation. She earnestly sought her
dismission, saying that though she could not join
in sentiment Avith the Port Royal nuns, she could
yet take no part in augmenting their sufferings.
Her dismission was granted; and when she went
to embrace the nuns, she said to one of them,
" Well my Sister, I only pray God that he may
give me the grace to find in heaven a place at
your feet." And indeed, as truth requires that
justice should be done to every person, we must
add that all the nuns of St. Mary, had they not
been placed in such an odious capacity, were well
capable of edifying their prisoners in many things.
Their love for their vocation, their love for evan
gelical poverty, their charity to the sick, was truly
admirable : though combined with their vicAvs,
even these virtues proved some of the most cruel
means of tormenting their fellow prisoners. For
no sooner was any nun taken ill, and more
especially if she was in extremity, than these
good, but injudicious nuns, took their station at
her bed side, and began interminable discus
sions on their revolts, rebellion against the Pope,
heresy against the church, and disobedience to
the archbishop. Sometimes with tears, and at
other times with threats, assuring her that she
would die, without sacraments, and be ever-

PORT ROYAL. 343
lastingly damned as to her soul; and that her
body would be throAvn on a dunghill and deprived
of Christian burial. Such were the tender mercies
of these nuns to their prisoners. In short, as there
are some bodily diseases which preclude persons
from the use of their senses ; so the notion of
obedience, which possessed these daughters of St.
Mary, was a moral paralysis, Avhich produced the
very same ill effects on them mentally. This
notion seemed not only to impede the powers of
their souls, and hearts, and minds, but actually
to suspend the functions of conscience. To take
away the use of their spiritual senses, and to
abridge them of the holy liberty which God
has not only bestowed, but absolutely commanded
his children to use, in discerning between right
and wrong ; that the one may be adopted and
the other rejected. So that these good, but nar
row minded nuns might be truly said, "to have
eyes and see not ; to have ears and hear not ; and
hearts without understanding." This delusion
Avas really a sort of soporific, which deprived them
not only of enlightened judgment, but even of com
mon sense ; so little did they make use of their un
derstandings, in all the actions, civil or Christian,
Avhich constitute a well conducted life. The M.
Eugenie especially, whom they regarded as a se
cond Mde. de Chantal, even exceeded all the others
in blindness ; and had not even those good intervals
Avhich were occasionally observed in the others.
Blind obedience was her only rule. The practices
of her own order her only models ; and it would

344 MEMOIRS OF
have been utterly impossible to make her under
stand the existence of any goodness or hohness,
but in the duties of blind obedience. All the
daughters of St. Mary were formed on one same
model; all were pervaded by the same spirit;
and all (as might be expected from persons
adopting it) were of a very hmited capacity.
Such were the persons, well intentioned, but
narrow and bigoted, whom M. de Perefixe, arch
bishop of Paris, most injudiciously established in
the place of the Meres de Ligni, Agnes, and
Angelique de St. Jean; to conduct a community,
containing a greater number of the most enhght-
ened persons of their sex, the best instructed in
general knoAvledge, and in the grand and solid prin
ciples of religion, of any community in Christen
dom. Under this new domination, persons were
no longer encouraged to speak of the precious blood
of Christ, of the outpouring of his Spirit, of the
spirit of prayer, of a circumspect walk, and of com
munion with God, but only of the virtue of bhnd
obedience, and of the duty of signing the formu
lary; just as if all religion, and salvation, and
damnation, were suspended on believing or dis
believing that the five condemned propositions
were to be found in Jansenius; a latin book,
Avhich none had probably ever seen, and which
certainly, none of the nuns of the Aisitation could
have read.
The opinion of these nuns on the duty of im
plicit obedience, will perhaps be more clearly
understood, by an extract from the ' Relations de

PORT ROYAL. 345
Port Royal,' given in the Lettres Edifiantes, tome
iii. p. 385.
The Soeur Angelique de St. Alexis de Char
mont Hecaucourt is the speaker, and is giving an
ticcount of a conversation between the Soeur Flavie
Passart after she had thrown off the mask, and
herself; after having spoken for a considerable
time on the duty of implicit obedience, she (the
Soeur Flavie ) added, " That for her part, she was
in the disposition of obeying, Avithout any distinc
tion or discernment at all; and without ever
making any reflection, whether the commandment
of her ecclesiastical superior were good or bad,
because she ought not to pre -suppose, that he
Avould give her any order, which was not conform
able Avith Avhat God required. " Upon which I
proposed to her the following question, " My
sister, if after the death of his grace the present
archbishop, another arose in his place, who com
manded you to condemn him, or to sign a formu
lary, declaring the whole of his present conduct
to have been unjust and arbitrary, that he was a
violent and time-serving man; one 'who abused
his ecclesiastical prerogative, in requiring the
signature of a formulary, which is no article of
Christian faith; and that moreover, you yourself
had committed a still greater crime, in upholding
him by your signature : would you sign such a
declaration ?" She answered, " Yes, my sister, I
would sign it Avith all my heart, because I am
resolved always to obey my superiors, and it is
not my business to discern what they command;
Vol. L 44

346 MEMOIRS OF
it is their concern to inquire if what they do, and
command to be done, be right or wrong; but my
only part is to yield them implicit and prompt
obedience, nor can I sin in obeying them," " But
my sister," rejoined I, "supposing there arose
five or six archbishops of Paris one after the
other, each of whom in his turn, commanded you
to undo and condemn the act his predecessor had
ordered you to perform and to approve, what
Avould you then do ?" She replied, " My sister, if
fifty archbishops of Paris succeeded each other,
I should always obey the command of the one in
office." I ansAvered, " But, my sister, Avhat then
is your foundation ? it is not God, for you serve
other Lords before him; nor are you led by the
Spirit of God, for God has no variableness nor
shadOAV of turning; whilst, on the contrary, you
are ready to change Avith every wind of doctrine ;
a sure test of those who rest on frail man, instead
of the immutable Lord; and Avho follow false
teachers, instead of the Spirit of truth, the ap
pointed teacher of the church." She answered,
" I hold to perfect obedience, and that is aU."
With these words she Avent aAvay; whilst I
answered, " Would it not be w^ell, my sister, not
merely to hold perfect obedience; but to see,
that this perfect obedience, be yielded to God, and
not to man."
Such Avere the opinions of the Soeur Flavie;
and as it appears, by the numerous relations of
Port Royal, such were those of the ecclesiastical
party whose tool she was.

PORT ROYAL. 347
The difference of sentiment between the crea
tures of the court party, under the dominion of
the Jesuits, and the Port Royalists, on these sub
jects, will plainly appear by the following letter,
from the venerable M. de St. Marthe, one of their
confessors. — Lettres Edifiantes, tom. i. p. 15.
January, 1664.
" My Sisters,
Do not fear all the threats which may be
made, concerning briefs and bulles, or all the
mandates you may receive, whether by the
authority of the pope, or that of his grace the
archbishop. St. Paul says, ' The end of the
commandment is charity, out of a pure heart,
and of a good conscience, and of fiiith unfeigned.'
1 Tim. K then, you have every reason to believe
this commandment to be contrary to charity, and
if you recognise that it does not lead to purity of
heart, and that it does not accord Avith a good
conscience, and that it does not spring from a
faith unfeigned ; how should you imagine you
ought to conform to it ? A lively faith is inse
parable from purity of heart, and from a good
conscience, as the Apostle says. Never forget
that you will soon weaken yourselves in the faith,
if you neglect purity of heart, and if you sacrifice
a good conscience. The same Apostle teaches us,
a little lower, in instructing his disciple Timothy,
he commands him to preserve faith and a good
conscience ; and he adds the awful caution, that
' Those who have neglected or put away this good

348 MEMOIRS OP
conscience, have soon concerning faith made
shipwreck ;' adding, that Hymeneas and Alex
ander Avere amongst such, they would be excom
municated, and delivered over to the power of
Satan. Hence my very dear sisters, very far
from fearing excommunication, so long as you
remain faithful to the dictates of conscience, you
ought, on the contrary, to fear lest God should
abandon you, if you should be unfaithful ; and
lest he should punish you, by allowing you to
fall into errors against the faith ; and^ so far from
being able to excommunicate you, whilst you
maintain this exact fidelity, remember that on
tho contrary, St. Paul would have excommuni
cated you, if you did contrary to a good conscience,
although commanded by men so to do ; and one
may say, that in the sight of God, you would
by so doing, have excommunicated yourselves.
Whereas, if you remain in an humble firmness,
in the state in which he has placed you, you can
neither fear excommunication nor any other evil ;
because as Ave have seen, true faith is inseparable
from purity of heart, and the answer of a good
conscience, and that from the love of God. Now
it is written, ' That all things shall work together
for good, to those who love God ;' that is to say,
to those who preserve themselves in this purity of
heart and love : and all that can be done to those
who really abide in these divine virtues, cannot
injure them, but on the contrary, we are assured
by revelation, that all must work together for their
good.

PORT ROYAL. 349
Moreover, my dear sisters, let us console our
selves in the Lord; and in a sure trust that he
will not abandon us. The persecution you suffer
places you in the rank of the early Christians;
and be willing, and think yourselves honoured, in
being called to partake of the same sort of suffer
ings they endured. For believe me, it was a deep
suffering to have the sorrow of seeing their breth
ren fall ; you must expect similar trials, but let
us seek to imitate them, in their firm and humble
faith. If these things humble us, in making us
enter into a feeling sense of our own nothingness,
surely they likewise fortify us, since there is no
other strength, than that which is founded on
that deep self-abasement and humility, Avhich may
lead us to dig deep, and build upon the rock of ages
himself. Always propose to yourselves the examples of
the primitive Christians. They had to bear false
brethren. They were tried by many who denied
the faith, after having embraced it; and who
abandoned the truth, after having known it.
This it was, which occasioned the apostle to ex
claim, "0 foolish Galatians, &c. &c." You must
extend your charity to those who fall, since Jesus
Christ commands us to imitate God his Father,
Avho makes his sun shine on the good and on the
evil : and in the numerous little vexations they
may occasion you, you must exhibit to them your
patience, which is the fulfilment of charity, accord
ing to the word of the apostle, " In patience possess
ye your souls."

350 MEMOIRS OF
God is just in all his judgments, and what we
suffer both is, and when seen truly seems to us far
less than we deserve. We ought to esteem our
selves too happy, that though in the midst of the
furnace he sustains us ; whereas, those truly to be
pitied, are the unhappy persons, who, dehvered over
to the blindness of the natural understanding, and
impenitence of the natural heart, persecute the
church of God. And if he permits some of your
sisters to fall, Avhile you stand, let none glorify
herself on that account ; but seeing her own danger,
in the lapse of those Avho once walked with her, as
fellow-pilgrims, let her cleave more closely to the
Lord, and if she thinketh she standeth, take heed
lest she also fall.
Hence my dear sisters, we pray continually for
you, that he may render you worthy of your high
vocation : that he may make you more and more
able to perform the duties of a religious calling,
and to conform to it, not only as to fidelity to its
rule, but faithfulness and cheerfulness under the
sufferings and persecutions in Avhich he has engaged
you. Rejoice and be exceeding glad, &c. for in this
consists your glory. And w^e also ask for you,
Avith the same apostle, that he should accomplish
his good work in you, and finish the work of your
faith in him : that Jesus Christ may be glorified by
you, and you in him ; for that is all to Avhich we
must pretend.
If we have anything more to wish for you, it is
to beseech you, as that great apostle did Avith re-

PORT ROYAL. 351
gard to his disciples, " Ut non cito moveamini a
vestro sensu ; neque terreamini, neque per spiri-
tum, neque per sermonem, neque per epistolam."
Do not be terrified, do not be troubled. And with
the knowledge and light it has pleased God to
afford you, whether briefs are handed you, or
bulles fulminated against you ; whether discourses
are held to terrify you, or casuistic subtleties to
ensnare you, or although those who Avould mis
lead you, boast that they are led by the Spirit of
God; do not be astonished, for the apostle pre
dicted all these things would happen. But then,
he adds at the same time, that they should suc
ceed only against those who should perish, and
Avho had not received the love of the truth in their
hearts. By which he marks, that there can be no
salvation independently of a love of the truth,
Avhich is the bond of all true faith, and living
charity.
, Thank God, that he has vouchsafed to choose
you, as the first victims of this persecution against
his truth; thank Him, that he has bestowed on
A'ou that knowledge of the truth, now so rare,,
Avhich may render you a blessing to his church ;
and that he has crowned it, with those persecu
tions, which may issue in your own sanctification,
and in the glorification of your Redeemer. This
grace is so great, that we cannot be sufficiently
thankful for it; and we are wholly unworthy of
such a favour, if we do not appreciate his having
called us to a participation of his sufferings. Let
us then abide firmly, by a thankful humihty, in

352 MEMOIRS OF
the state to which he has called us. And now,
may the Lord bless and keep you. May the Lord
lift up the light of his countenance upon you, and
give you peace, even that peace in believing,
which passes all understanding; and Avhich as
the Avorld cannot give, so neither can it take
aAvay." A few days after the entrance of the Mere
Eugenie, she demanded the constitutions of the
order that she might read them, and assume the
reins of government, Avithout being obliged at
every moment to ask for assistance from those she
was to govern, and accordingly supposing that the
twelve who were taken aAvay, comprehended all
the persons of talent in the community, and that
she should find no difficulty in subjugating the
rest, but be able soon to intimidate them, she
began to issue her orders in the most authoritative
manner. But she soon found herself mistaken^
It was calmly and respectfully observed to her,
that so long as she staid, they wished to show her
every respect, which could be paid to the most
distinguished visitor; but that their officers being
in existence, though absent, they could not elect
others, and still less form a precedent so contrary
to their rules, as obeying one not of their commu
nity. The nuns then without acquainting the
M. Eugenie, proceeded to elect temporary substi
tutes for their officers, amongst themselves, and
obeyed them in all things, as though their own
abbess had been at home. Ev^ry day the M.

PORT ROYAL. 353
Eugenie undertook some new encroachments,
particularly that of holding the assembly and the
chapter. This the nuns resisted for a considerable
time, but hearing it was intended to imprison
many more of their number, it was thought it
would be more expedient, to remain together in
their monastery, than to cause the loss of more of
their number, by resisting what was, after all, a
mere form, by which they did not feel bound.
The nuns being then all assembled to hold their
first chapter; the nuns of St. Mary entered, and
the Mere Eugenie declared she alone should hold
it, notAvithstanding all their representations of the
illegality of their proceedings. The Soeur Fran-
goise Agathe, sub-prioress of Port Royal, and con
sequently their head, now the others were taken
away, then rose and said aloud, " My sisters, the
Mere Eugenie is about to hold the chapter, but
Avithout prejudice to our appeal, and acts of pro
testation against it." About the same time, the
M. Eugenie took in the choir the place of the
Mere Prioress, as she had done in the refectory:
and she did attempt to assume that of the abbess,
till the Soeur Genevieve de I'incarnation told her,
that she could not, under any pretext, assume the
rank of a titled abbess. From that day, the nuns
of St. Mary attended all the offices. They always,
however, manifested the greatest inquietude, when
any of their prisoners, especially those who wrote
with elegance, were absent. Because it had been
especially recommended to them, to use the
utmost precaution and vigilance that their pri-
VoL. L 45

354 MEMOIRS OF
soners should not be enabled to communicate
together, to draw up any protestation, or appeal to
the laAv ; or that if drawn up, it should never find
its way out of the walls of the house. Neverthe
less, all their vigilance, united with the perfidy
of the Soeur Flavie Passart, did not prevent the
nuns both from holding communications without,
or receiving necessary advices from time to time ;
Avhicli enabled them to unveil, in proces verbaux,
the crying injustices, which their persecutors
wished, by every means, to conceal from the
public. Whilst the M. Eugenie endeavoured, by a union
of force, stratagem, and ever wearying and re
newed contentions, to render herself mistress of
the house, and to estabhsh her pretended superi
ority, the Soeur Flavie, like an evil genius,
unobserved and unsuspected, glided amongst her
sisters ; insinuating herself into their counsels, all of
Avhich she betrayed, under the guise of being herself
one of the most determined on their side. To the
community, she always appeared as a saint, ready
to bear testimony to the truth before the archbishop ;
whilst she was in reality plotting with him, how to
betray them.
Thus were the saints of Port Royal, like the
apostles of old, in perils of false brethren. And
this trial was more deeply felt, than all their
others. Their sweetest consolation, till the time
their mothers were taken away, was the perfect
peace and union that reigned amongst themselves.
The demon of discord had now entered in. And

PORT ROYAL. 355
He who had permitted that there should be
found one Judas amidst the apostles, permitted
that there should also be found a traitor in the
house of Port Royal; that his handmaids should
be favoured to drink of the same cup with their
Lord ; and show this trait of conformity with their
divine Master. It is time to unA'eil this new mys
tery of iniquity.
The imprisonment of the abbesses had opened
all at once a new perspective of ambition. The
nuns of St. Mary could only be at Port Royal for
a season. Being of a different order, they could
never remain its legitimate superiors. If she
stirred up the nuns, with all her power, to make
remonstrances, proces verhaux, &c., she might,
she imagined, easily succeed in establishing the
resolution of the archbishop, to give Port Royal a
new superior, and keep the old ones imprisoned
for life ; and if she herself became subservient to
him, and was useful in revealing their plans, and
exhibited her talent, of which she had a large
share, who so likely to gain that envied office as
herself? Nay, the archbishop would be compelled
to yield it to her, as the only nun of the order,
and of the same community, he could permanently
substitute for the exiled abbess. Her part was
then, to enter into the views of the archbishop
secretly; and to make her talents appear to the
best advantage, in endeavouring to gain over
some proselytes to the same views, from amongst
her weaker sisters; whilst in the mean time,
under the most profound mask of dissimulation,

356 MEMOIRS OF
she entered into all their counsels to betray them ;
and to urge, under the appearance of zeal, all those
nuns Avho Avere distinguished for talent, and who
might be her rivals, to such steps as might seal their
disfavour Avith the archbishop. Accordingly, she
expressed to the community her great sorroAv that
they had not used more forcible expressions against
the formulary, and taxed them Avith expressing too
much respect to their ecclesiastical superiors. —
She then urged them to more zeal, and to set them
at defiance. She assisted them in secretly draw
ing up a very decided proces verbal, and several
other pieces ; but on the day of signature, she was
A^ery opportunely as usual taken ill, and prevented
from herself signing it. When the pieces were once
sent forth, she as suddenly recovered, and bitterly
beAvailed having been prevented from adding her
signature. The nuns Avere, howeA^er, not long Avithout re
ceiving advice that they Avere undoubtedly betrayed
by some one of their own number. Accustomed,
however, to judge favourably, and being indeed
themselves only suffering because they would not
pass a rash judgment, they could not persuade them
selves the intelligence Avas true. So that a friend
of theirs, M. Doamloup, having called and asked
the Soeur Genevieve de I'incarnation, who being
their elder took the place of abbess, in what
state the nuns were, she answered " that they
Avere all firm." But M. Doamloup spoke to
her in a manner which convinced her that he
was persuaded othei-Avise : on Avhich the Soeur

PORT ROYAL. 357
Genevieve again said, " How, sir, can you doubt
it? It seems to me that there are none of our
sisters, that would not prefer dying to offending
God." About the same time, the Soeur Euphrosine
said also, with deep grief, to the Soeur Genevieve,
"My sisters, I have seen his grace the archbishop,
but I am sure that there must necessarily be one
ti'aitor amongst us, who reports to him every
thing, because he knew exactly, all which passed
in the interior of this monastery, in the time of our
Mothers. It is truly deplorable, but I assure you,
that nothing has here been resoh^ed on or trans
acted amongst ourselves, in the most profound
secrecy, of which he and M. Chamillard are not
immediately informed, and that of councils at
which the nuns alone have been present." These
circumstances, combined with various others, did
not fail to impress the Soeur Genevieve, and per
suaded her that a party was by degrees forming,
and a division gradually taking place amongst
themselves; and disunion spreading in the very
heart of the community. Several sisters entered
into her views, and circumstances daily occurred,
which appeared to place their conjectures beyond
all possibility of doubt. But who could be the
guilty individual, they could not even conjecture.
Their state of suspense was almost insupportable.
The total ignorance and uncertainty as to those
who might or might not be implicated, its neces
sary consequence of infusing the greatest distrust
of each other, rendered their situation most afflict
ing. Each of the poor nuns, Avas obliged to con-

358 MEMOIRS OF
centrate her grief in her own bosom, lest she
might be addressing herself to some concealed
enemy. When it was necessary to deliberate upon the
affairs of the community, they were constrained
to speak before those, who listened only in order
to betray them. Thus were they reduced, neither
to be able to communicate their affairs in public
nor in private, without an inevitable danger of
being betrayed. If their resolution was worded
in a manner too soft and respectful, it only
afforded their enemies hold upon them. If, on
the contrary, it was too rigorous, they were treated
Avith still greater harshness. If they did not
consult together, they were exposed to the evils of
not acting in concert; if they took mutual coun
sel, they were assuredly betrayed. Thus did they
continually walk between contending difficulties. —
Situations however did occur, in which they were
compelled to exhibit their genuine sentiments;
and to show the respect Avhich they OAved to their
legitimate, but exiled superiors ; and to mark by
their conduct, that they could neither recognize
the M. Eugenie as their superior, nor M. Chamil
lard as their director. This firmness exasperated
their jailors to the greatest degree; and they began
to publish on all sides the foulest calumnies, not
only against their doctrines, but even against their
characters. M. Chamillard most falsely insinuating
on all sides, that they were abandoned to the great
est disorders, and had cast off even the form of
religion.

PORT ROYAL. 359
Meanwhile, the Soeur Genevieve determined to
use every means to disco\-er by whom they were
betrayed. She therefore divided the whole com
munity into three bands, placing over each a nun,
Avhom she could thoroughly trust. These bands
Avere to read and consult together, at different
times and places, and on different, subjects, and
the three heads were afterwards to confer together.
The reading consisted of pieces sent by their
friends, for their consolation and edification;* the
Soeur Genevieve justly thought, that by observing
Avhich of the bands had its proceedings divulged,
they should in process of time find out the traitor ;
resolving, in case her plan succeeded, to subdivide
that band again, and so on, till they discoA'ered the
individual. Accordingly, one day when about twelve nuns
were assembled, reading a letter of M. de St.
Marthe, the Soeur Flavie gave notice of it to the
M. Eugenie, who made them a rigorous repri
mand. Whilst all this trouble distracted them
Avithin, M. Chamillard assailed them without, by es
tablishing conferences and sermons, the whole of
which consisted of homilies on the duty of passive
obedience, the danger and sin of disobedience. His
discourses were most frequently one tissue of
invective against themselves, interlarded Avith the
most injurious epithets, and calumnious tales of
their imprisoned fi-iends and superiors ; comparing
* One of these we will insert at the termination of this chapter,
by way of specimen.

360 MEMOIRS OF
them to every rebel, heretic, and schismatic, Avho
had ever troubled church or state, from the time
of Cerinthus, to that of Madame Guion. He closed
his first harangue in these terms : " You think to
be martyrs ? so you shall be, but to the devil ; and
instead of a crown of glory, your portion shall be
the flames of hell !"
At the third of these conferences, the nuns, not
thinking it right to assist in thus profaning the
pulpit, which ought to be the oracle of truth, nor
yet choosing to hear such atrocious calumnies
against their imprisoned Meres and Soeurs, mostly
rose and departed. The fanati6al preacher be
came so incensed, that he broke off his discourse,
and quitting his place, rushed to the grate which
separated him from the nuns' choir, and trans
ported with fury, shook and struck it with all his
force, exclaiming with a voice of thunder, " Those
who go out, shall never be received to communion
more ; they shall die without sacraments, and be
thrown as carrion on a dunghill. There are
canons excommujiicating all who go out whilst
the word of God is preached." On this the Soeur
Flavie, trying to detain the Soeur Angehque of
St. Alexis of Charmont Hecaucourt, hypocritically
said, " Alas, my dear sister, had you not better
stay ? what if you should be unhappily excommu
nicated ?" The Soeur Alexis answ^ered aloud and
firmly, " The canons of the church do excommu
nicate those who go out when the word of God is
preached. But this is not the word of God. Let
the word of God be preached, and we will listen."

PORT ROYAL, 361
After the conference, M. de Chamillard sent for
the Soeur St. Eustoquie de Flescelles Br^gy, and
abruptly addressed her thus : " You too, I suppose,
Avere one who went out ?" She replied, " Indeed,
Sir, you do me injustice ; I did not." On Avhich he
began praising her, and wishing the others to follow
her example ; to which she replied, " Indeed, I
wish so too ; for then not one would have been
present, in the first instance." From that day,
most of the nuns withdrew from his conferences
and his confessional, both of which became de
serted ; and M. Chamillard found himself a priest
without a flock. His complaints, added to those
of the Mere Eugenie, and to the reports of the
Soeur Flavie, who assured them that the nuns
Avould rather die than jield, determined M. Perefixe
to exert himself, to devise some new and more
effectual measures.
The persecuted nuns, meanwhile, had demanded
and obtained, on the 10th of September, letters
of chancery, by Avhich it was permitted them to
cite the archbishop of Paris, and all who were
concerned, to answer before the parliament of
Paris, for the part they had taken in the illegal
measures they had perpetrated, and the violences
the nuns had endured. These letters were signi
fied to the archbishop, M. Chamillard, and the
intruding nuns, on the 15th of the same month,
Avith the assignation to parliament. The bereft
community of Port Royal then imagined them
selves on the point of obtaining justice. But it
was easy for one, who had so strong an interest as

362 MEMOIRS OF
the archbishop, in not having his violence and
illegal proceedings , condemned, to prevent the
nuns from obtaining justice ; and the archbishop
obtained a decree of the privy council, by which
the king interdicted all knowledge of this affair
to parliament, and transferred it to the hands of
his own council. Now, as M. Perefixe had taken
the part he had, simply in compliance Avith the
vicAVS of the king, it was easy to foresee the
termination of any - proceedings, before the royal
council. About this time, the duplicity of the Soeur
Flavie became apparent. Some years before, and
in the midst of their persecutions, she had had a
long conversation with Mile. Perrier, M. Pascal's
niece, and who had been one of her scholars,
(the same who was the subject of the miraculous
cure,) respecting the signature of the formulary.
The Soeur Flavie expressed great fear lest the
nuns should yield, and had besought her to ask
from M. Pascal, her uncle, instructions for her
self; that she might both sustain herself, and
fortify her sisters ; and she earnestly and reiter-
atedly besought her to obtain a writing to that
effect. The demoiselle Perrier asked M. Pascal,
who complied with reluctance, and on the express
condition that no copy should be taken ; that the
Soeur Flavie should communicate it to no one;
and that she should restore it in six weeks. She
did indeed restore it, but not until after she had
shoAvn it to M. Chamillard, the emissary of the
archbishop of Paris, who took a copy. This

PORT ROYAL. 363
happened in 1662. Three years after, that is in
1665, a work appeared of P^re Annat, in which
that Jesuit adduced long extracts from the MSS.
of Pascal. Then the demoiselles Perrier went to
the Soeur Flavie, and reproached her with her
treachery, which she could not deny. They also
taxed her with having betrayed the house, by
revealing its councils, and adding much of her
own, and thus obtaining from the archbishop, the
exile of the sixteen principal nuns, to the end that
she might be chosen abbess herself; to which
reproach they added another, respecting Mile, de
Roann^s, whose banishment she had occasioned
by her calumnies; that lady having at the Soeur
Flavie's instigation, received a lettre de cachet,
exiling her to Poitou, and when the Duke of
Roannes her father, inquired the reason, he found
it Avas this nun, who having accused her of resist
ing the formulary, had been the means of her
disgrace. It has been observed, that the nuns,
instead of holding one full chapter, determined to
divide the council in three divisions, and to treat
of different matters at each. They soon observed,
that the division Avhose councils were revealed, was
always the one in which was the Soeur Flavie.
Whilst, however, they were yet in some doubt,
it was clearly discovered who the traitor was.
The archbishop having one day brought copies of
some of their archives, the treachery of the Soeur
Flavie was apparent ; as she was at that time
procuratrix, and had the sole care of the papers,
and consequently no other person could have

364 MEMOIRS OF
shown them to the archbishop. This was the sig
nal for the most cruel persecution.
The Soeur Flavie now completely threw off the
mask, she watched them from every corner,
estabhshed the strange nuns as spies over them ;
inimical persons, nay, even persons of infamous
character, were posted at all the turns, so that
they could hold no communication from without,
but through their enemies. Jesuits were sent to
them as ecclesiastics, to denounce damnation and
threats of excommunication ; their gardens Avere
given up to a party of soldiers, established there
in defiance of all decorum as a guard ; so that the
nuns could not walk out, but Avere whoUy con
fined to the house. Meanwhile the heat of the
summer was intense, and the garden being occu
pied by soldiers, a contagious fever broke out in
the monastery; death succeeded to death; the
sacraments were refused to the dying, and even
in the agonies of death, they were terrified with
threats of excommunication ; the unrelenting
Soeur Flavie, the twelve strange nuns, and the
ecclesiastics, going from room to room, to terrify
and entangle the consciences of their victims,
and to insult them in their last hours. Mean
while at length, six out of the hundred nuns,
yielded to the artifices and persecutions used, and
signed the formulary; amongst whom Avere two
nuns AAiio had. for four years been in an imbecile
state ; Avith one other on the point of being
expelled for bad conduct; and a fourth, and
afterAvards the most celebrated, the Soeur Dorothee

PORT 'ROYAL. 365
Perdreau; a person of pious feeling, but very
limited understanding. She was of low origin,
and of very moderate fortune, and was received
by the Mere Angelique gratuitously; Avho nobly
gave the whole of her portion on the day of her
profession to the Soeur Dorothee's brother; send
ing him her contract torn to pieces. This nun,
after being much entangled in conscience,
yielded; and from that hour, became the passive
tool of the Soeur Flavie : who, after many months,
finding that the imprisoned nuns did not yield,
nor the community submit, and being now un
masked, began to fear what might be her situa
tion, should the abbesses return. In order then,
both to accomplish her ambitious projects of
seeing herself the head of a community ; and also
to screen herself against the return of the nuns,
Avho had been exiled; she suggested to the arch
bishop, the idea of separating Port Royal des
Champs from Port Royal de Paris; and of plac
ing the six nuns, who Avith herself had signed the
formulary, in Port Royal de Paris, constituting it
a separate community, and of electing an abbess
from amongst those nuns; not doubting, but in
that case, the choice would fall upon herself
Thus unjustly did she excite the archbishop to
wrest from these nuns, what the bounty of the
family of Arnauld had bestowed on the commu
nity ; and thus did she propose to take for seven
nuns, one third of the provision destined for above
one hundred and thirty. No sooner was this
design formed, than the Soeur Flavie resolved

366 MEMOIRS OP
vigorously to push it on. In her character of
procuratrix of Port Royal des Champs, she had
the care of all the stores; she therefore profited
by rising even by two in the morning, and surrep
titiously sending out, day by day, carts loaded
with stores of every description, to the monastery
of which she hoped soon to see herself at the head.
Furniture, house-linen, provisions, clothing, stores
for all the obediences, all was pillaged. The
nuns of Port Royal des Champs, were in great
astonishment at seeing their house thus dis
mantled, and were wondering to what it was to
tend ; when a mandate of the archbishop, contrary
to all observances of law, declared the nuns of
Port Royal des Champs, deprived of any votes;
and called on the seven nuns of Port Royal de
Paris, to proceed to an election. MeanAvhile the
Soeur Dorothee, very inferior in capacity to the
Soeur Flavie, gradually became Avearied of being
the tool of her ambitious sister, nay, even the
nuns she had overaAved to her purposes, dreaded
the Soeur Flavie's intriguing, overbearing, and
meddling spirit; and the archbishop himself, Avho
had so often had recourse to her services, had
now seen sufficiently of her character, to think it
Avould be more conducive to peace, to place no
more power in her hands. So that as the time
of this unjust election drew nigh, the Soeur Flavie
Avas astonished to find her tool, the Soeur Dorothee,
Avhose mediocrity she had so long despised,
named as her rival; and instead of continuing
subservient, using every means to thwart her, and

PORT ROYAL. 367
bear away the triumph on which she had so long
set her heart ; and to obtain Avhich, she had com
mitted so many crimes, and acted so treacherous a
part. Thus did the phantom elude her grasp, for
which she had for years practised a course of
calumnies and double dealing; for which she had
immured in a close prison, and deprived of the
necessaries of life, some of the most excellent of
the earth ; those to whom she OAved her bread :
for which she had succeeded in wresting from
them their possessions, and caused them an im
prisonment, the severity of which had occasioned
a pestilential disease, in which many had died,
persecuted by her until death ; deprived of the
sacraments of their church. Accordingly, when
the election took place, the Soeur Dorothee Per
dreau was unanimously chosen. And thus the
reward of all the Soeur Flavie's treachery, was to
find herself fixed under the absolute domination of
her own tool; a person she cordially despised,
and who hated her for her former tyranny. A
person equally weak and obstinate ; and who,
like many others of that description, had no
greater pleasure than in AA-reaking her vengeance
upon her, by every sort of petty mortification.
And instead of finding a friend in the archbishop,
he informed her in the most cool manner, " That
he had never entertained the least thought of
making her abbess; for which her intriguing
character entirely disqualified her." Thus did
she find herself completely over-reached, and all

368 MEMOIRS OF
the pains she had taken, in surreptitiously ab
stracting furniture and moveables from the
monastery of Port Royal des Champs only served
to aggrandize her bitterest personal enemy. When
she reproached the archbishop and the ecclesiastics,
telling them it was by her unAvearied industry and
cleverness alone, they had gained their point,
they coolly replied, "Many may profit by
treachery, but all abhor the traitor." Such was
the only comfort this poor sister obtained from her
friends. Meantime the Soeur Dorothee was as much
elated, as the Soeur Flavie was cast down. She
usurped the place of abbess with a high hand,
and the assumed importance weak minds attach
to honours. On the very day of her election, she
admitted six new postulants, collected with great
pains by the archbishop ; but the next day, when
their instruction was to commence, she found
herself strangely at a loss; knowing nothing
either of Latin, or of the principles of music. She
was then obliged, with much shame, to call in
a vicar of Notre Dame, to instruct them.; and it
was with the greatest difficulty, on the festival
held on her inauguration, which succeeded a few
weeks after her election, that a motet was most
wretchedly performed, to the derision of all
Paris, whom the archbishop had unadvisedly
invited to grace the ceremony. Meantime, the
Soeur Dorothee, finding herself rather at a loss in
the duties of an abbess, thought it necessary to
veil her deficiencies, by surrounding herself with

PORT ROYAL. 369
all the pomp which could be assumed. She
therefore had st£|,te apartments fitted up for her
self; kept a separate table, and in every respect
took upon herself all the honours that could be
arrogated by a titled abbess. Meanwhile, the
Soeur Flavie Passart continually acted as a thorn
in her sides ; using every means to render her
despicable and ridiculous in the eyes of her ncAv
community. The abbess Dorothee on the other
hand, knowing by experience her intriguing
spirit, began to fear she might in turn prove
the victim of similar plots, to those in which she
had been a tool ; and in order to watch oA'er the
Soeur Flavie, she stationed herself at the turn, to
scrutinize all that went in and out of the monas
tery; nor did she at all seem to consider hoAv
derogatory was such a mode of proceeding to her
station as abbess ; nor the derision and contempt,
to which this strange mixture of state and mean
ness exposed her. From day to day, the new
abbess seemed more and more perplexed. Wholly
inadequate to the duties of her office ; hated by
the only person of talent in the community, and
Avho, as her unsuccessful rival, spent her whole
endeavours in tormenting her; unable to enforce
discipline ; now trying to obtain respect by un
wonted state ; now meanly watching lest plots
should be formed against her; alternately treat
ing her community with harshness, and conceding
everything in vain, to conciliate; such was the
life of this wretched abbess. Meanwhile, the
Soeur FlaAie's state was no less miserable. Out-
VoL. I. 47

370 MEMOIRS OF
Avitted by the ecclesiastics, whose dupe she had
become; and by the stupid Soeur Dorothee, her
own tool; hated by the whole little community,
she had by her artifices gained over ; but Avho
Avith one voice reproached her for the thraldom
she had led them into ; and who were obedient
to the Soeur Dorothee, only in tormenting her;
she Avas yet worse used by the abbess, whom she
so heartily despised, than by any of the others.
Her high spirit was completely borne down, and
she was reduced to such a state, that she did
little but weep from morning till night. Yet she
Avas not happy enough to see the hand of God ;
and to recognize that it was a just punishment
for all her prevarications and her treachery ; or
rather a warning voice, to lead her to repentance.
She had imprisoned her mothers and her sisters.
She was the cause of unjustly turning out her
legitimate superiors and benefactors ; and the just
God to whom vengeance belongeth, and who pun
ishes men by their own crimes, permitted her,
by her own machinations, to throw herself into a
thraldom, and under the dominion of one who
became her scourge. Thus the inhabitants of
Sichem, after having slain the seventy sons of
Gideon, who had exposed his life to deliver them
from the Midianites, chose for king, Abimelech,
a base person; Avho was, to the very individuals
to whom he owed his ill-gotten croAvn, a devouring
lire. Three, out of the seven nuns who had
joined the Soeurs Flavie and Dorothee, were so
miserable under their tyranny, and so tortured by

PORT ROYAL. 371
remorse, that they found means to interest their
relations at court, for their emancipation; and
obtained a mandate for their return to Port
Royal des Champs. The others, who were of less
note, were less fortunate ; though equally wishing
their escape. Meanwhile the greatest dilapida^
tions took place in the revenues of Port Royal de
Paris. The abbess, to conciliate the public, and
to unite her refractory community, was continually
giving magnificent entertainments; nay, she even
gave a ball in the exterior of the convent. —
The disorders of their finances urged them to
fresh pursuits against Port Royal des Champs;
but after much litigation on the part of the clergy,
the king refused to ratify their unjust claim,
saying, "If Port Royal de Paris chuses to give
a ball, Port Royal des Champs shall not be taxed
to find fiddles."
The archbishop having now succeeded in wrest
ing the house of Port Royal de Paris from that of
Port Royal des Champs, and having established
the abbess Dorothee in the former, determined,
since nothing more was to be gained by further
contention, to separate the two communities en
tirely, and to remove to Port Royal des Champs,
all the nuns from whom he could not obtain the
signature of the formulary. In pursuance of this
resolution, he determined to send back all the
nuns he had imprisoned in different monasteries,
who were twenty-three in number; and also
those who were in the house of Port Royal de
Paris, when the abbess Dorothee and her six

372 MEMOIRS OF
nuns took possession ; these nuns were thirteen in
number. Before we proceed to the account of their return,
we will close this long chapter, by one, amongst the
large collection of excellent letters written to the
community of Port Royal, by their pastor, M. de St.
Marthe, during the captivity of the nuns, and his
own exile from his flock.
Letter from M. de St. Marthe to the community of
Port Royal des Champs. October, 1664.
" My dear Sisters,
The blessing of our Lord Jesus Christ ever
abide with you ! Your present state calls you, in
an especial manner, to humble yourselves under
the hand of Almighty God, as under that of a
good father Avho chastens you in mercy, and for
your benefit. For he chastens every child whom
he receives into his household, and for whom he
prepares his inheritance. Be content to endure
all manner of affliction, provided he be with you
in those afflictions. Rejoice that for his sake you
lose every earthly possession ; since, without doubt,
he will give himself to you, in the place of all
that he deprives you of. Does it rend your heart
to be torn from the counsel of your spiritual
mothers, and the society of your sisters? Re
member, that the very wound it inflicts is sent in
mercy, and in order to heal you. Be patient
under the means by which your heavenly Father

port royal. 873
sees needful to break your bonds to earth ; sub
mit to the correction of what may yet remain too
h:\m"an and earthly in your affections ; in order
that your charity may become thoroughly purified.
You will love God more undividedly, your affec
tion for your mothers and sisters will be more
holy ; and remember that perfect love to God,
and perfect love in him to his creatures, is the
complete health of the human soul. Learn to say
with St. Paul, that you glory in being attached
to the cross with Jesus Christ your Lord ; and
may you be enabled to go on to say with him,
that no person is able to separate you from Jesus
Christ. Love to endure the yoke of Christ ; a
yoke which is never borne, without a greater
weight of blessing. And if at any time it should
appear to you hard to support, do not delude
yourselves by repining against its apparent
weight. Recollect it is the sickness of the soul,
not the heaviness of the cross, which makes it
hard to bear. Seek then divine help, to increase
your love ; cast off the burden of earthly attach
ments and passions; these are the real causes
that bow you down, and debilitate the soul.
Wait then, my dear sisters, upon the Lord ; then
shall you ' mount on wings like eagles, you shall
run and not be weary, you shall walk and not
faint.' Jesus Christ whom you love was crucified ; he
Avhose disciples we are, ' became obedient unto
death ; even the death of the cross.' Will you not
then suffer all creatures to unite in crucifying your

374 MEMOIRS OF
sins ; when your sins conspired to crucify him who
Avas without sin ? Those to whom God has given
power to persecute and to oppress, have only power
allowed them to perform that work upon his chil
dren, which the love of God sees is requisite. It is
their office to try us by fire, ours to endure the
purifying furnace. If we love not the world, we
should surely be well content that the world should
not love us.
Courage, my dear sisters ! submit in faith to the
crucifixion of spiritual, as Avell as of natural de
lights; for even in that did our Lord set us an
example. If during the long and weary hours of
a close imprisonment, your Lord appears occasion
ally to withdraw his presence, and to leave you like
the spouse in the canticles, who sought her beloved
and could not find him, because of the darkness
of the night, possess your souls in patience until
his return ; till the sun of righteousness rise, above
the limited horizon of your view, with healing in
his beams. Jesus Christ does not really abandon
you. The more he is concealed from your view,
the more intimately does he enter your heart.
Without inspiring sensible joy, he will yet prove
your assured strength, and your eternal salvation ;
your shepherd, your redeemer, your deliverer ; the
Avonderful, the counsellor, the mighty God, the ever
lasting Father, and prince of peace. He will fight
Avith you, and you will triumph with him. " Con-
fidite; ego vici mundum."
Since then no persecution can befal you, but in
accordance with the views of a God of love con-

PORT ROYAL. 375
cerning you, it is a contradiction in terms, for a
disciple to feel anything but love and kindness to
those Avho are the instruments of fulfilling the Avill
of God in his behalf. Let us then manifest our
sincere union Avith the designs of God, by loving
those visible enemies, who are amongst the most
powerful instruments in helping us to detect and
conquer our invisible, who are our only dangerous
enemies. In order to profit by the ill-usage you ma}-
receive, beseech of God, that no vain anxieties
may interrupt the tranquillity of your communion
Avith him ; and that no want of charity, may-
disturb your love for your persecutors. Once
more in your patience possess ye your souls ; not
that you should jield a culpable and blmd
obedience to your temporal or ecclesiastical supe
riors, Avhen they require of you that which is
contrary to conscience; rather imitate the holy
angels, who remained steadfast in the faith, though
Lucifer, their superior, commanded their revolt ;
but then like the holy angels, be steadfast, not
resisting even Satan Avith railing accusation, but
by adhesion to God in a spirit of love and of sub
mission. The Christian conquest, is a conquest
not of force of arms against your brethren, but b}-
intensity and fervor of divine love.
Fear not, though persecution should rage, that
y^ou should seem to have no place whereon to lay
the sole of your foot. Jesus Christ your Lord,
though the foxes had holes, and the birds had
nests, had not even where to lay his head. Nor

376 MEMOIRS OF
yet be astonished, though every place of outward
worship should be shut to you. If we have no
religious house wherein to seek Christ on earth, he
will even come and dwell in the temple of our hearts,
and abide there as master of the house. Nothing
is so httle, as an humbled and contrite heart ; and
yet nothing is so exalted, since God has declared
that he dwells there in all his majesty. Nothing is
so poor, as he who has nothing on earth ; yet no one
so rich as he who possesses God. "0 humihtas
augusta tibi ampla salvatori."
The name of a prison appears indeed horrible,
but if the Holy Spirit abide there Avith us, he will
bestow on us the liberty of children of God. If
truth enter with us, and increase in us, it will
deliver us more and more from the father of lies.
If for Christ's sake, we are as it were slaves of the
injustice of men, Ave shall have the consolation of
seeing the chains of our sins broken, and thus
become the freemen of God. The wicked carry
their prison about with them wherever they go ;
because their own heart is a dark dungeon, their
passions adamantine chains, and scourges to the
soul; whilst on the contrary, those whom Jesus
Christ has delivered, and who have renounced the
Avorld, experience the liberty of the children of
God, even in the midst of bonds.
Jesus Christ is come a light into the world ; and
those unhappy persons who love the world, and
prefer darkness to light, have their eyes so bhnded
by earthy mists, that whilst persecuting the
children of God, they cannot see the gulph Avhich

PORT ROYAL. 377
yawns beneath their own feet ; their heads are so
intoxicated with worldly pursuits, that they are
insensible of the dizzy height on which they stand,
till their feet slide, and they are dashed from pre
cipice to precipice, till the abyss finally closes over
them. Whereas if the eye be single, Christ will be
a light amidst the darkness of the gloomy dungeons.
Let us then believe, that the happiest spot for the
Christian, is not always that which to sense appears
brightest ; but rather that in which he is the most
frequently compelled to cast himself upon the
strength of God only ; and where outward circum
stances, by affording him the most frequent
exercises of humility, charity, and patience ; yield
him most facilities for practising the tempers, and
receiving the impress of the likeness of his divine
Master. When therefore you are beset by trials,
seek not to escape from the hand of him Avho has
attached you to the cross ; but rather say to him,
with the humble but fervent love of Israel of old,
to the angel who Avrestled with him ; ' I will not
let thee go except thou bless me !' The way of
tribulation, is the way of the kingdom ; walk you
in it. If the ground of your heart be harrowed by
the good husbandman, expect in patience the
abundant harvest; 'Confidete in Domino et mane
in loco tuo.'
Whilst however you maintain love for your per
secutors, be not shaken from your steadfastness,
either by their mistakes or subtleties. A disciple,
thanks be to God, is not called to waste his time
and strength in unravelling the long and intricate
48

378 MEMOIRS OF
web of sophisms, elaborated by false teachers ; the
test applied by our Saviour is simple and compen
dious, "by their fruits ye shall know them."
When spiritual teachers resort to courses of con
duct and proselytism, not only unprecedented in
Scripture, but wholly opposed to that practised by
the apostles; we have solid ground for believing
that the doctrines themselves, which demand so
different a method of promulgation, must also be
different. Noav the apostles never resorted to force,
or to any Avorldly incitement, either of pleasure or
pain, to compel the Avill. They never persecuted
nor flattered the world, to make it renounce its
errors ; but they suffered persecution of the world
from those errors. In the case both of the great
shepherd himself, and of those immediately sent
forth by him, they laid doAvn their lives for the
sheep : but it is without example, to find shepherds
commissioned by Christ, slaying their sheep,
under the pretext of exercising the charge of laAV-
ful pastors. Beware then of the doctrines of those
whose practice is so wholly opposed to that of
the Lord they profess to serve. Such practices,
are those the world was wont to use against the
church, not those of the church against the world.
Now neither the world nor the church change their
natures. Where then we see worldly practices
resorted to, we may safely conclude that it is not
the spirit of Christ, but that of the world in dis
guise which has crept in it, w^hich is the agent:
and that for the gratification of its own purposes,
the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, or the

PORT ROYAL. 379
pride of hfe, she is for a time assuming the mask
of that church, to Avhose vitality and spirit, she is
the most deadly and irreconcilable enemy.
It remains to say something of my OAvn disposi
tion, that you may pray God for me. God knows
my weakness, which is no doubt the reason he has
not yet appointed me to severe combats. However,
Avhenever he sees fit to call me out, I trust he will
become my strength. If I have not been found
worthy to give you the first an example, I trust I
shall be enabled to follow yours ; and as you have
been ready to lay down your lives for the truth, I
am encouraged to hope, that I too may be ready to
lay doAvn mine for you.
We seem to me, just now placed very much in a
similar predicament to that of the church in the
time of the emperor Julian. This apostate caused
liis statue to be erected in a place of public resort,
and in the midst of several idols. Noav soldiers
were required in passing, to salute the image of the
emperor. Christian soldiers then found themselves
in a double difficulty ; if they saluted the emperor,
they passed for idolaters, and were cast out by the
Christians. If they refused, they were executed by
the magistrate ; not as Christians, but as traitors to
the emperor. Yours, my dear Sisters, in our Lord,
With much consideration, St. Marthe.
Will the reader permit us to insert one other
letter of M. de St. Marthe ; it was addressed to an

380 MEMOIRS OF
abbess Avho had adopted the reform, and was in cor
respondence with Port Royal. It is by no means
particularly connected with the history of that
house ; excepting so far as it exhibits the spirit of
their pious director ; it is inserted here, simply be
cause it appears to contain advice so universally
valuable and applicable, that it was thought it might
prove both useful and acceptable.
Letter from M. de St. Marthe to the Abbess of L.
" My Rev. Mother,
If I have not hitherto spoken particularly to you
of your own spiritual state, it has not arisen from
any wish to dissemble painful truths; but solely,
from not being aware that I had anything to com
municate on the subject : and I think it against the
order of God, to make an effort in our own will and
understanding, officiously to execute as his minister,
a commission with which he has not truly charged
us ; or to deliver in his name, that which is not
really his message.
But the office I at present hold in relation to
your house, having latterly laid your spiritual state
upon my conscience ; I will now simply note down
a few observations, which have arisen in my mind,
Avhilst bearing you on my heart before God, in
prayer ; leaving them with you to accept or to re
ject, as his Spirit, the alone effectual guide into all
truth, shall direct you.
Let me, however, previously offer a foAv remarks,
on the mode of receiving spiritual advice. It

PORT ROYAL. 381
often pleases God, not only immediately to enlighten
us by the teaching of his Spirit, without any out-
Avard instrumentahty, but likewise often mediately
to instruct us, through the instrumentality of his
servants. When he who is the truth itself, vouchsafes to
become our immediate instructor, it is obvious
that the instruction must be perfect ; and that it
needs no consideration on the part of his fallible
creatures, to know whether it is to be adopted, or
with what limitation. But the case is far different
Avhen that teaching is conveyed through the me
dium of men.
When spiritual advice is conveyed CA^en through
the most eminent of his servants, though the
treasure is of God, it has passed through the
channel of an earthen vessel; and therefore ac
quires always more or less tincture therefrom.
Hence, Avhenever we receive instruction from our
fellow creatures, we should carefully Aveigh it in
the balance of the sanctuary; lest, on the one
hand, we reject the message of God, because of the
unsuitable form in which it may be conveyed ; or
lest on the other, Ave prove guilty of leaning on an
arm of flesh, by hastily adopting, unexamined,
advice, a larga portion of Avliich may not be in
tended for us. God reserves to himself, the
thorough knowledge of every heart. He alone can
provide every one his meat in due season; and
that which is offered by the best of men, must after
all be weighed and selected by him who receives
it; lest he should on the one hand rashly reject

382 MEMOIRS OP
much that may be valuable ; and on the other, as
rashly adopt a great deal which is irrelevant or un
suitable. Before then I proceed to giA^e advice, I beseech
you to Aveigh it in a spirit of prayer.
HaAing thus said, how it appears to me, that the
advice of Christian brethren should be received, I
Avill freely say, that it seems to me, that your prin
cipal error consists in bearing yourself toAvards the
sisters with less condescension and kindness than
you ought. You are apt to feel impatient when
they do not at once enter into your reasons, or readily
adopt your superior hghts; and you sometimes re
main too much surprised, may be perhaps a little
grie\-ed, at the occasionally reluctant sulanission you
find in them.
May I not say to you freely, that this defect
arises from a root of that very pride which caused
the heresy of Pelagius, and which it is so difficult
to eradicate from the human heart? Although aa-o
possess a full internal spiritual conviction, that tho
grace of Jesus Christ alone can effect the conver
sion of the human soul ; yet the self love of fallen
nature makes us feel as if our Avords Avere suffi
cient to convert' hearts, and to eradicate the beset
ting sins and evil habits of those over whom we are
placed. How is it, that Avhen it needed an opera
tion of grace from above to change our own hearts,
that Ave should so easily flatter ourselves, that it is
enough that we speak to correct the faults of those
Avho are under our guidance ? And how can we so
soon forget the superhuman power, and the long-

PORT ROYAL. 383
suffering, necessary to influence us ; as to be sur
prised whenever Ave have said something to en
lighten them, to find them still wandering in
darkness ? When it required the beam of the Sun
of righteousness, to enlighten us; ought we to
wonder, that it should require more than the
dim taper of human illumination, to enlighten
them ? This secret sentiment of pride and self love,
Avhich imperceptibly lurks at the bottom of our
hearts, is the cause that we occupy ourselves too
much in condemning the weakness of others ; and
Ave forg-et those means by which aa'c really ought
to co-operate with God in their salvation. We
talk, and exhort, and reproA'^e, beyond measure.
But do we pray and mourn for them in secret?
We do not sufficiently wait for God, and seek not
to go before his hour. We do not feel a charitable
patience for the Aveakness of feeble souls ; and Ave
do not take a sufficiently maternal care, not to
impose on them burthens, which they cannot yet
bear; and which would only serve to overwhelm
them. Sometimes again, through the same iin-
watchfulness, Ave leave them in their infirmities
through our negligence; and omit telling them
truths, when God has really op6ned their ears to
hear ; and when they are truly hungering, Ave do
not mind to present them with solid bread to make
them grow. It folloAvs from thence, that not con
sidering the faults of others, with the charity we
owe them, we easily slide into a pharisaic spirit.
We feel so much impatience at the faults of our
sisters, only because we flatter ourselves we have

384 MEMOIRS OF
not similar ones ; whereas, perhaps, it is bur self-
love only, which prevents our seeing and con
demning them in ourselves, in a still greater
degree. You must consider my mother, at the age ycu
have attained ; the respect in which you are held,
and the obedience' Avhich is accustomed to be ren
dered to you, form so many evils, conceahng
many defects which might otherwise appear in
you, if you were reduced to the level of those Avho
are subject to you. And besides, whatever virtue
you may have. Christian humility should make
you consider all the faults of those you direct, as
though you had yourself committed them. For
since you have nothing of yourself that separates
and distinguishes you from the most imperfect:
since you have within you, the very same root of
corruption and frailty; you will allow, that you
cannot without presumption, profess any advan
tage above others. If it be true, that we who
hold spiritual offices, exercise our ministry after
the example of Jesus Christ; we shall charge
ourselves with all the sins of our community ; and
esteem ourselves not less obliged to grieve over
them, than those who have in person committed
them. And as we are ourselves members of the
same body, with the most imperfect of our sisters ;
and still more, if we are the heads of that body,
we shall be animated at once with the same desire
for their perfection, we feel for our own ; we shall
exercise the same patience in their infirmities, we
do under our own ; and we should have a sedulous

PORT ROYAL. 385
care to mortify that natural activity, which leads
us to irritation, rather against persons, than
against their sins. If it be true, that we have a
solid and sincere desire to serA^e souls; the first
thing in which that desire will appear, Avill be, to
avoid all faults or Aveaknesses in ourselves, which
may place any stumbling block in the way of those
Ave lead; and which might render our corrections
useless, because we do not give them in the right
manner ; because they are not given in wisdom and
in love ; and because we rather follow our own na
tural inclination and spirit, in administering them,
than the teaching of the Spirit of God. Do not
fear gentleness, if you are truly faithful. What
ever may be our gentleness, if it proceeds from a
true Christian charity, we shall not have the less
force, in mortifying those Avho need it : but we shall
have more light to do so in the manner, and accord
ing to the mind of Jesus Christ. We shall afflict
them, and strike them for their benefit; and we
shall at the same time hold them by the hand, and
sustain them, lest they should fall into discourage
ment ; or into a cross, untoward spirit, which would
make them resist instruction. And now my dear
sister, that we may have a perfect pattern of the line
of conduct to pursue towards them, let us observe
that of God, the Holy Spirit, the true teacher of his
church, in reproving, in consoling, and in admonish
ing us.
I have no doubt, my dear Mother, but that you
have charity enough, to well receive what I propose
to you so freely ; and even though I should be mis-
49

386 MEMOIRS OF PORT ROYAL.
taken in many points, I doubt not but your humility
Avill receive that which may be suitable in what I
have said ; and that you will kindly do me the same
good office ; that we may both be followers of that
Lord, who not only washed his disciples every whit,
but commands them daily to wash each other's feet,
as they pursue their pilgrimage here below.

CHAPTER X,

Journal of the Mtre Angelique de St. Jean. —
State of Port Royal des Champs. — Excellent
Letter of M. de St. Marthe, to the community of
Port Royal des Champs. — Recluses.
The division having been effected between the
monasteries of Port Royal de Paris, and Port
Royal des Champs, those nuns who had been
exiled by the direction of the archbishop, were to
be recaUed. They had now passed ten months in
a rigorous captivity; separated not only from
each other, but imprisoned in the communities to
Avhich they were sent, and allowed to hold com
munication with no one. The venerable Mere
Agnes, however, on account of her advanced age,
and frequent apoplectic seizures, was allowed to
have one of her nieces with her. Their captivity
was now to terminate ; or rather their captivity in
foreign houses, was to cease ; and they were to be
reunited in their own monastery of Port Royal des
(387) "

388 MEMOIRS OF
Champs. We Avill extract from the Soeur Angehque
de St. Jean's account of her return.
"I had fully persuaded myself that our long
exile would terminate in the tomb, when on the
fourth of July, at nine in the morning, the abbess,
M. de Rantzau, came to pay me a visit, and told
me with a joyful countenance, that she brought me
good news ; and that the Abbe de la Motte was
just come from the archbishop, to know if I should
like to Aisit the Mere Agnes, at the monastery of
St. Mary, from which I might perhaps return to
Port Royal des Champs. My astonishment was
almost beyond belief So that I could only say,
I was ready for whatsoever the will of GoD ap
pointed ; for the news seemed so bright, that I
feared to believe it; supposing it was a snare to
enhance our disappointment, and fearing lest its
bitterness, should prove an occasion of falling.
After dinner, the M. de Rantzau returned to sit
with me, and showed me the greatest affection,
saying with tears in her eyes, how Avretched it was
to have been compelled to become my jailor; and
rejoicing in the hope of showing me every kind
ness, as long as I might yet stay. I thanked the
community for all the kindness they had shoAvn
me ; at which those present blushed ; but I am
sensible they did all their orders allowed. As I
knew they had long wished to learn modelling in
wax, I offered, now they had hberty to converse
with me, to teach them the art. And as I had
many preparations to make for my return, I deter
mined to sit up all night to arrange my own

PORT ROYAL. 389
concerns, that I might be at liberty to give them
this pleasure next day. This day I devoted to
finishing a reliquiary I had begun for them ; and
to making them a wax crucifix, Avhich I did not
finish till nine at night, when I retired to my cell
to pray, and to say complin ; after Avhich I pro
posed making my httle preparations, which I had
scarcely begun, when I heard many footsteps
approaching my room. The hour had long since
struck, at which the nuns go to bed in summer.
I could not imagine what it could be ; when the
door opened, and M. de Rantzau appeared,
holding a candle in one hand, a paper in the
other. I rose to meet her, when she said with
great surprise, (and I think feeling,) " My sister,
an almoner of the archbishop is just arrived with
a coach, and here is his order to convey you away
immediately." I confess I was not a little sur
prised at being sent for at such an unseasonable
hour. I made haste to collect my papers and
clothes ; in the mean time, the officers of the
monastery who were already in bed, very kindly
rose to bid me farewell, and notwithstanding all
my remonstrances they would accompany me to
the door. When I entered the court, they saw it
Avas already dark, and they did not like to allow
me to traverse the streets of Paris at such an
hour. M. de Rantzau begged me to enter into
the choir, Avhilst she went to the ecclesiastic who
Avas to accompany me, to request him to defer my
departure till morning ; I then entered the choir,
and prostrating myself anew in spirit before the

390 MEMOIRS OF
Good Shepherd, under whose care I had placed
myself at the beginning of my exile, I said with
all my heart, " Though I walk the valley of the
shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art
with me !" There are indeed many darknesses
to be feared in this life far more terrible than
external darkness, through Avhich we may never
theless walk with assurance of -not falling, when
His grace accompanies us ! Soon afterwards the
Mother called me, and said, there was no way of
deferring it, that the archbishop insisted on my
going immediately ; she then said how sorry she
should be to part from me ; I threw myself at
Madame de Rantzau's feet, and begged her par
don, and that of the community, for any trouble I
might have given them ; M. de Rantzau embraced
me with the utmost tenderness and affection, as
did likewise all the other nuns ; they then opened
the door. An ecclesiastic and a female received
me, and I stepped into the carriage with them.
I knew where I was going, but was unacquainted
Avith the road; nor could I discover whereabout
we were, for it was pitch dark, nor were there any
lights, excepting here and there, a candle in the
shops Ave occasionally passed. When we had
proceeded a little way the coach stopped. The
ecclesiastic got out. I perceived we were at the
gate of a convent, and I concluded he was about
to bring me a companion ; but as I did not knoAV
in what part of Paris I was, it was impossible to
guess who it was. We waited above three quar
ters of an hour. Not a Avord had yet been spoken

PORT ROYAL. 391
by any of the party; at length the lady broke
silence, by observing, " It was a very undue hour
to conduct nuns, but that it could not be other-
Aviso, as the archbishop returned so late from St.
Germain." ' I replied, "Madame, it is but fit
that nuns should be as ready at all hours to obey
the will of God, as their ecclesiastical superiors
are to obey the will of the court." "Alas, Ma
dame," replied she, " few except the inhabitants
of Port Royal, could suffer so much, so cheer
fully." She then embraced the opportunity of the
ecclesiastic's absence to say, " that it was well
known no other persons would have endured with
so much constancy, and that whatever the court
party might do, the world at large espoused our
cause." I cut short this discourse, wishing to
spend this time in silence and prayer, for which I
had full leisure. At length, the moon rising in
cloudless majesty in the heavens, and her peaceful
light gilding the silent and solitary streets, I could
not but recollect that beautiful promise of God, that
" The sun shall not smite thee by day nor the moon
by night ;" I felt that he had preserved me from
evil, and above all, that he had preserved my soul ;
and I trusted that He who had watched over my
going out, would also sustain me by his grace, in
my going in, and that from this time forth, and even
for evermore.
After waiting a long time, the ecclesiastic re
turned; accompanied by a nun, whom he seated
in the carriage beside me. It was too dark to
reccgrjizp either her countenance or figure : but I

392 MEMOIRS OF
had no time ' to doubt Avho it might be, for she
threw herself on my neck, exclaiming, " 0 my
dear aunt !" I replied, " My dear child." This
Avas every word Ave spoke at this interview, and
during the whole way ; but these two w^ords from
the abundance of the heart, sufficed to make us
knoAV each other, and to fill our hearts with con
solation; of which the first principle being spi
ritual, though it was also natural, was first to be
enjoyed in gratitude and silence before Him, who
Avas its first object and its true cause. This expe
rience made me understand, Avhat Mary Magda
lene felt at hearing herself called by her name by
Jesus Christ, whom she took to be the gardener,
and the answer which she made, in saying the
single word " Rabboni !" Certainly this mutual
recognizance includes all in a truly spiritual
friendship. How often the multiplicity of demon
strations and of words, injures the principle of true
joy and satisfaction, by troubling the heart and
disturbing the action of thanksgiving, which
should be first rendered to God, in order to con
secrate wholly to him, the first fruits of a rich
harvest sown in so many tears. ^ Then indeed, I
began to feel my heart overflow with joy. I had
before both supposed the news of our hberation
doubtful, and also feared, lest I might learn some
of my sisters had fallen through the severity of
our persecution, and the rigour of their confine
ment; but the joy at once more meeting that
dear child, whom God had sustained in so terrible
a trial, especially at her tender age, inspired me

port royal. 393
with such good hopes that all my fears vanished,
and I only thought of praising God, who gave us
such sweet earnest of his great mercy, and who
began to bind up our wounds, by restoring us to
each other.
The remainder of our journey was very long,
or rather tedious. We were six in number; we
felt almost suffocated with heat, in our serge
religious dresses, and shut up in the month of
July in a coach, all the windows of which were
closed. The night seemed darker and darker, as
the hour became later, and the candles in the
shops were extinguished. We had neither flam
beau nor lantern ; so that in many places it was
so completel}^ dark, that we all fully expected, Ave
should be overturned every moment. I searched
my own heart, to discover if I felt any alarm ; but
it seemed to me a folly and contradiction to dread
anything, when the conscience has no reason to
fear death. For if we had been overturned, or
murdered by the banditti, who at this time in
fested Paris, we should, after all, have died as
certainly in obedience to the appointment of God,
as those martyrs whose death is so much more
glorious before men. After all, true peace must
consist in peace of conscience. The true light
Avhich lighteneth every man Avhich cometh into
the world, is the alone light, which no outward
storms and tempests can extinguish. When that
light is burning, the wise virgins need not fear
the obscurity of night; nor Avill the lion that
goes about seeking whom lie may devour, be
Vol. I. 50

394 MEMOIRS OF
able to gain advantage over them ; whereas when
the oil of interior peace is wanting to a soul,
because of unfaithfulness to God, it trembles, even
Avhen there is no ground of anxiety. The dark
ness of her conscience, at one and the same time,
leading her to fear men ; yet rendering her insen
sible to the tremendous danger of offending that
God, in Avhose hands are the lives of all his
creatures. Thus we proceeded, each silently conversing
with God, in her heart, during the whole way;
which was prolonged to two hours and a half;
because we both proceeded slowly, and met Avith
scA'eral serious detentions. For when Ave reached
the gates of the city, we found them shut; and
were obliged to wait till they Avere opened, which
detained us some time. We were again kept
waiting much longer at the gate of the convent of
St. Mary, in the suburb, where we had to remain
above half an hour, before the tourrieres of the
convent were roused from their slumbers ; after
which they had to wake the nuns, before they
could get at the keys of the outward gate, leading
from the street into the exterior court of the
monastery. Whilst we waited, I unexpectedly
heard a bell, which I immediately recognized as
that of the Carthusians, which struck the second
stroke for matins ; that is, it Avas eleven o'clock at
night. I cannot describe my joy at hearing this
bell, I had so often heard in our house at Paris;
and thus discovering, that I was in the immediate
vicinity of our poor desolate Zion ; of which I had

PORT royal. 395
neither seen or heard anything during the time
of captivity in which I wept by the streams of
Babylon. After a considerable time had elapsed,
the great gate was opened ; and the carriage drove
into the court of St. Mary's, where we had another
long station to perform. For the nuns, who had
not the least expectation whatever of our arrival at
such an hour, were not so soon ready to receive us ;
and being all in bed and asleep, it required some
time to dress, for they do not sleep in their clothes,
as we do. At length they made their appearance ;
so that just before midnight struck, and before the
day of visitation ended, they received this, extra
ordinary midnight visit ; the pleasure of which
was greater to us than to them ; though we must
bear full testimony to their great charity, in the
lively interest they manifested in the extreme joy
of their prisoners, at this emancipation. It w^as
the mother superior herself, and five or six other
nuns, Avho came to meet us at the door. So many
events, and so many feelings crowded on the heart
and mind, that I cannot in the least recollect what
either party said or did ; I only know, that all Avhich
the kindest hearts can exhibit of sympathy and
joy, in the happiness of others, these good mothers
abundantly showed; and indeed they exhibited
much more joy than I did, my ow^n heart being
troubled with conflicting hopes and fears, as to what
might follow, and the state in w-hich we might
meet our exiled sisters. But all my suspense
vanished. I forgot all thoughts of bonds and
imprisonment when I beheld our two sisters, who

396 MEMOIRS OF
were imprisoned in this convent, freed, and run
ning to meet us at the door. It was not till after
I embraced them, that I learnt that one of them
was actually then suffering from a fever, (though
she quitted her bed to see us,) and that our dear
and venerable Mere Agnes was altogether confined
to her bed, through the hardships, and depriva
tions, and anxieties, undergone in the long period
of their imprisonment. I seemed at once to receive
from God an hundred-fold for all we had endured ;
and I longed to go up to the Mere Agnes, who was
looking forward Avith equal pleasure, to once more
seeing me, her niece.
We first, however, went to the altar, to pour out
our hearts in mutual thanksgiving ; for how could
Ave ever sufficiently thank that Good Shepherd, who
not satisfied with pouring out his life for us, had
guided and watched over us during our captivity,
and who had now sought us, and reunited us to each
other. From the church Ave went up to the room of the
Mere Agnfes, who received me with joy, like that
Avith Avhich holy angels receive souls escaped from
the snares of the evil one, and let loose from the
prison of this world ; I shall not attempt to relate,
either her feelings or my own ; no words can con
vey them adequately. The good mother of St.
Mary, took a sisterly part in our joy ; but after a
little while very kindly left us, to pour out our
hearts to each other in full liberty. They wished
however, first to prepare us beds, but I told them,
that I had already taken measures to stay up all

PORT ROYAL. 397
night, before I knew I should spend the night in
their house; and my sister Magdaleine Christine,
said she should also sit up.
It was past midnight, and these good mothers
knew we were to set out very early for Port Royal
des Champs ; so that we had only just time to ex
change greetings, and to realize their reunion. In
deed it was like a dream. I sate a little with the
Mere Agnes, but did not stay, for at her great age,
sleep and rest AA^ere absolutely necessary; but I
found her so full of grace and strength, that after
my long anguish at our separation, and all the
false reports circulated about her, Avhich had torn
my heart, it was indeed a deliverance. After bid
ding her a good night, it was the turn of my other
sisters. They both crowded round me, and told me
all that had befallen them; their persecutions,
deprivations, and the support they had received.
From them, I first received the joyful tidings of
the firmness of all our sisters; of the constancy
and noble conduct of my companion, the Soeur
Magadaleine Christine, of which I knew not a word ;
of the constancy and generosity of our holy
bishops; above all of M. d'Alet, whom amongst
others, my persecutors had tried by every means
to make me believe had abandoned the truth, and
was armed against us. Then news Avas first told
me, of the multitude of our friends, whom God
had not only preserved in truth, but raised up to
defend it, and to justify our innocence by public
apologies. On hearing these joyful tidings, of
multitudes whom I had been falsely told had

398 MEMOIRS OF
fallen, with a view to shake me ; and after having
long imagined, like Elijah, that I alone was left to
Avorship the God of our fathers; my heart was
overwhelmed with joy, as when the Prophet learned
how many had not bowed the knee to Baal. But
I could say nothing, but to God ; and tears of joy
and thankfulness, alone showed the almost painful
excess of joy, at his great goodness, in having not
only reunited us, but preserved our souls. I was
so overwhelmed, that at every new tidings, I was
ready to say, it is enough ! for it seemed more
than my frame could bear. For all was as new to
me, as though I were risen from a sepulchre, after
being buried in profound solitude for ten months ;
and my sisters could not refrain from tears, when
they found how rigorous my captivity had been.
So that I resembled those poor Christian slaves,
liberated from the Turks, who recognise nothing
in returning to their own country, but have to
learn all that has taken place since. As for me, I
knew nothing, not even the most public pieces of
news ; indeed things almost forgotten by the public,
Avcre noAV to me. I knew nothing of the establish
ment of strange nuns in Port Royal des Champs,
nor of the horrible conduct of the Soeur Flavie, nor
that Port Royal de Paris was wrested from us, and
erected into a new monastery. Yet amidst these
ncAvs of temporal losses, was the rich recompence
of learning the spiritual strength and health of my
dear sisters ; so that I seemed borne down with the
full tide of blessings, and I knew not how to be
thankful enough, for having sustained me under

PORT ROYAL. 399
the false information, continually brought me7 of
the defection of those amongst our sisters and mo
thers we most valued.
Completely overpoAvered by these conflicting
feelings, I consented, as I was importunately urged,
to lie down a little ; not that it would have been
possible to sleep, but I needed to breathe a little,
and to pour out my heart to God in silence, as a
necessary relief, in the overwhelming riches of
natural and spiritual joy he had heaped upon me ;
so that the presence even of those dearly loved
and newly restored friends, seemed almost a re
straint, till I had poured out the fulness of thanks
giving to him who is above all friends. I accord
ingly threw myself on a bed, which the kindness
of the mothers had prepared, and rested for about
three quarters of an hour ; after which I rose and
hastened to write a* few lines, to the various dear,
and tried, and faithful friends who had done so
much for us : and borne so much with us : to
acquaint them with the joyful news of our deliver
ance. Meanwhile my Soeur Angelique Therese, who
had a feverish complaint, and our dear Mere Agnes
slept, and my Soeur Magdaleine Christine was em
ployed in packing for them. After this, we all
said matins together ; and I know not how it was,
but there was not one word in the office, which did
not seem chosen expressly for us ; as if to lead us
to praise the mercies of God, which indeed seemed
in one tide, to fill and overflow all our hearts, and
souls, and senses.

400 MEMOIRS OF
Day soon came, as I was still writing ; when the
nun Avho attended the Mere Agnes, came to ask
hoAv Ave Avere ; and to invite her new guests, to see
the house and gardens of the convent, which are
particularly beautiful, and Avhich they took us to
see thus early, thinking Ave might be sent for. In
short, they seemed by CA'ery civility and kindness
in their power to show the great affection and
esteem they felt for us, and how truly joyful they
were, at being emancipated from the odious task
of being our jailors. They took us to visit their
cloisters, the chapter house, the community room,
the refectory, and their kitchen. All are very-
handsome, in excellent order, and as much orna
mented as may be allowable in a religious house.
We afterwards proceeded to the garden, in which is
a calvary and a magnificent sepulchre. We had
not however leisure to stay there long, for we
almost immediately heard the bell of the turn ring
loudly, and a messenger appeared to inform us that
an almoner of the archbishop was arrived, to
escort us immediately. The carriage, he added,
was waiting ; and that as no time was to be lost,
we w^ere commanded to come without the least
delay. It was then half-past five in the morning,
and the M. Agnes was not yet risen. She however
rose hastily, and came down immediately; for they
allowed us no time to take leave of any person,
except the few nuns Avho happened to be at that
moment accompanying us. The Mere Superior,
who had very kindly prepared breakfast for us in
the refectory, constrained us however to take some

PORT ROYAL. 401
refreshment. We then took leave, on both sides
Avith every mark of affection and civility ; and I who
had only been with them six hours had more thanks
to give than the others ; having received nothing
from them but the most attentive kindness and sym
pathy. Our sisters who had been imprisoned there,
had indeed other treatment to remember ; but they
too had every reason to think it Avas as painful for
these mothers to inflict, as for them to suffer.
The Mere Agnes then entered the coach, with
her four daughters, accompanied by a tourriere of
St. Mary. The almoner of the archbishop es
corted us on horseback. We began our journe}-
by saying prime together ; the office being ended,
I pulled out a little Bible, bound in one volume,
Avhich I always carry about me ; and handed it to
the M. Agnes, who opened it, to see what it
Avould please God to give us. These are the
words which presented themselves ; and which he
declared to his church by one of his prophets, who
perhaps saw us in spirit, amongst the vast flock,
ransomed by the blood of the divine and Good
Shepherd. " Woe to those Shepherds, who destro}-
and tear the flock of my pasture, saith the Lord.
Therefore, doth the Lord, who is God of Israel,
say to those Shepherds, who lead my people ; you
have dispersed my flock, ye have driven them out,
and ye have not visited them. But as for me, I
will visit on you the malice of your hearts ; and I
will assemble the remnants of my flock, from all
the places where you have dispersed them ; I will
bring them back to their OAvn house ; (in our case
51

402 MEMOIRS OF
Port Royal des Champs) and they shall groAV and
shall multiply. 1 will establish over them pastors,
Avho shall guide them; they shall no longer ap
prehend anything, or have fear, nor shall any one of
their number perish."
Can any one, who believes in a particular provi
dence, doubt that every, even the most trivial
rencontre, is not fortuitous ? Who, in the whole
range of the Old and New Testaments, could haA^e
discovered a passage more literally applicable to
Avhat had already passed in our community, and
to the present occasion of our return ? We did
indeed feel, that God was now beginning, by our
restoration to Port Royal des Champs, to assemble
the remnant of his flock ; that is, all who through
his mercy had escaped from so many peiils and
temptations, by the power of his grace, which
alone had rendered them stedfast and immovable.
Those also, who had for a time fallen under the
power of the enemy, had been snatched from his
hands, by that Good Shepherd who does not allow
one of his sheep to perish, which the Father has
given into his hand. 0 how great is the strength
and protection of his grace, to them who look to
him only.
After proceeding a little more than two miles,
it appeared that one of the horses had lost a shoe,
which made him go lame. We were however,
obliged to proceed at a foot pace, as far as Cha-
tillon, to the nearest blacksmith. There Ave were
detained a considerable time, which at first ap
peared a very unseasonable interruption, but Ave

PORT ROYAL. 403
soon found in . this little circumstance, as in many
others more important, that what retarded our
journey, enhanced our joy. For mean time, our
other sisters, exiled in different houses in Paris,
and who it appeared, set out rather later than
ourselves, had time to join us. When we unex
pectedly perceived the first carriage near at hand,
and all the white' dresses and bright scarlet crosses,
which showed in the Avinding of the road, a little
way behind, it is impossible to describe the trans
ports of joy of both parties. As we were stationary,
the carriage soon overtook us, and passed on ten
or fifteen paces before us. All we could do, as it
drove quickly by, was to salute each other, with
a mutual exclamation of joy, which came from the
inmost heart, and which could not be suppressed.
This carriage was followed by another, and then
another, and another, so that there were in all
seven. They drove by so fast, that we could only
distinguish those who sat next the door on our side ;
for though they longed equally with ourselves, to
have some communication, M. le Madre, Avho
escorted them on horseback as the prisoners of the
archbishop, would by no means suffer it: and
ordered all the carriages to file on before us, ex
cepting the last, which counting ours, made the
seventh. This carriage always remained be
hind, and stopped to wait for us, which it did
the Avliole Avay, for we had very poor horses ; and
although it might have continually passed us, it
always remained to bring up the rear ; going on
and stopping just as we did : the mystery of which

404 MEMOIRS OF
we did not then penetrate, not IznoAvinj Avhom it
contained. We then proceeded, still forming a file of seven
coaches. It was a dehghtful procession ; for every
one who formed a part of it, praised God, and
followed the cross of Christ. Thus we went on,
without meeting, till we past Jouy : where, at the
brow of the hill, we first descried the spire of our
beloved Zion, so deeply mourned, so long and so
earnestly desired ! Here, the road being difficult, at
the long and steep descent to the abbey, the car
riages drew near to ours ; and here it was we first
saw and spoke to each other for one little moment ;
but what could be said in such transports of joy ?
I know not to what to compare the spectacle of
the multitude, standing up in their carriages, and
stretching out their hands to each other, and
making exclamations of joy at the sight of the
Mere AgnSs whom they had so often been threat
ened they should never behold again ; and seeing
me amongst them, after the very feeble expecta-
"tion they entertained, that I should ever be allowed
to return ; it put me in mind of the resurrection
from the dead, as our close and weary solitary
imprisonment had of their long sepulture. But
after the first confused exclamations, the first
intelligible words that could be heard, were praises
and thanksgivings to God, who had so mercifully
sustained us in steadfast fidelity to the testimony
of his truth ; and who already repaired our suffer
ings an hundred fold, by the great joy of this reunion.
It was indeed, of all consolations, the greatest Ave

PORT ROYAL. 405
could desire, after our cruel separation. It was
yet an enhancement of happiness, as we from time
to time glimpsed amongst the number of our sisters,
those whom we best loved; or those Avhom we
thought they would certainly have withheld from
us ; especially when I saw my sister Candide le
Cerf, and afterwards my sister Anne Gertrude, I
knoAV not in what words to pour out my heart to
God, for this triumph of grace, unless in the words
of the Prophet. " Dicant qui redempti sunt a
Domino quos redemit de manu inimice et de
regioiiibus congregavit eos," seeing both ourselves,
and our sisters so overpowered with mercies;
Avhether those he had preserved, or those he had
brought back ; it seemed as though we were all so
melted into one heart and mind, that we could not
return separate actions of thanks; but that God
had thus reunited us again, that we might with
one heart and mind, sing one fuU anthem of praise,
thanksgiving, blessing, and gratitude, for mercies,
every one of which seemed equally to belong to
the whole ; since every member alike belongs to the
body, of which it is a part, and since to him alone
is each, and are all, indebted for everything they
have and are.
We indeed felt so happy, as almost to forget we
were yet prisoners, in the pleasure of being re
united. We were however soon reminded of it,
for when we descended the brow of our hill, which
formerly used to be lined with the peasantry, the
tenants in their festival attire, holding their chil
dren, and the poor; all Avas silent and sohtary.

406 MEMOIRS OF
The cheerful sound of bells, and the sight of blaz
ing bonfires in all directions, no longer greeted
our eyes and ears, as when the M. Angelique
arrived, in days that were past. And as our un
attended procession drove up to the great door,
two of our faithful grey headed old servants onl}
came to meet us, with tears in their eyes ; and on
looking up, we found all the doors guarded by
strangers, the creatures of the archbishop ; and w-e
were told that the last carriage which accompanied
us, contained his grand vicar, official, and another
ecclesiastic. It was indeed a damp to us, to dis
cover we only exchanged separate prisons in foreign
houses, for an imprisonment in our OAvn house;
}-et the joy of meeting was so great, that it in truth
overpowered every other feeling. Each carriage
successively stopped at the door of the great court ;
and with one heart and one accord, we spontane
ously moved towards the grand portal of the
church ; and in one instant that large and ancient
Gothic pile was filled by our company, Avho by the
white colour of their dresses, and scarlet crosses,
seemed to mark that they too were amongst the
innumerable multitudes, who had washed their
robes, and made them white in the blood of the
lamb, in which their crosses Avere dyed. We pros
trated ourselves with one accord at the feet of that
good shepherd, who had thus reassembled his dis
persed sheep. He only saAv the movement of the
hearts of each ; and perhaps in that glad moment,
they were all alike. We Avere thirty-six of us,
who having been redeemed from our hopeless

PORT ROYAL. 407
captivity, were noAV returned, and about to rejoin
their company, left in this house of Port Royal des
Champs. Those Avho abode faithful in Port Royal
de Paris, Avere expected to arrive on the morroAv.
That is the whole community, excepting seven out
of our whole number of ninety-eight : — viz. eightj-
four choir nuns, and eighteen lay sisters. So that
though bereft of our house of Paris, and of one
third of our revenue ; we rejoiced that thenceforth,
Ave should altogether form one unleavened bread,
Avithout malice, and in sincerity and truth ; and
thus be able to present our Avhole body, one living
sacrifice, holy and acceptable to the Lord.
Soon after, the mother prioress, Avith the whole
community, who had been expecting us with the
impatience which may be imagined, came to open
the door, " la porte des sacraments ;" which is
the door leading from the exterior part of the
church, open to the public, in which Ave then
were, into the monastic enclosure. The venerable
M. Agnes first rose from the steps, before the rail
of the altar, where she was kneeling ; we with one
accord fell back, that she might lead the Avay;
for though great age and fatigue made her steps
feeble, yet we followed as sheep follow the steps of
the aged shepherd who has long, and tenderly,
and faithfully conducted them. The grand vicar
and the officers conducted us to the door of inclo
sure, and never did captives feel so blessed a sense
of joy and liberty, as we did, when the well known
monastic door of that beloved Zion, where we had
spent so many blessed hours, closed behind us.

408 MEMOIRS OF
and restored us to all Ave loved and held sacred.
It is in vain to express the mutual joy of both
parties, but it may be best imagined by those Avho
know what perfect Christian union and friendship
is; and who can picture to themselves Avhat we
had suffered for a whole year. Our party just
rescued from a horrible solitary captivity, where
each had as it were been buried alive ; in which
aU 'they loved in the world became as it were dead
to them, and they were constantly terrified by
cruel threats, and by false news, invented to shake
their constancy and to perplex their conscience;
whilst they were destitute, in many instances,
of the necessary comforts of life. The other ,
party, torn by the loss of thirty-six of their
mothers and sisters, and the treachery of some
of their own number, without being able to
ascertain who, or how many were guilty. Also
by the loss of their goods, the domination of
strangers, and the endeavour to sow disunion
amongst them; whilst the most terrible threats
were constantly resorted to, and every door was
guarded, to prevent any communication with
friends and advisers without. Those I say, who
can realize all these trials, may perhaps form
some idea of our thankfulness and joy, at embrac
ing each other ; and recounting our various histories
on that blessed, and joyful, and most memorable
day, which we were continually interrupting by
tears and thanksgivings to God, who had so un
expectedly encompassed us about with songs of de
liverance.

PORT ROYAL. 409
I cannot end this letter better, than by ex
pressing the happy hope, that we may be so es
tabhshed in the love of God, the grace of our Lord
Jesus Christ, and the peace and communion of
the Holy Ghost, that we may never be confounded ;
but that these blessings may form the solid
foundation of that spiritual edifice, which it is the
will of God to form in us. That our temple may
be built of living stones, tried and proved, and
assembled from divers places, in this profound and
retired valley, where we arrived just time enough
to celebrate the festival of the dedication of our
church, the anniversary of which was to be com
memorated on the Sunday after our arrival, which
took place on Friday.
So that the thirty-six nuns arrived on Friday ;
the thirteen faithful sisters from the monastery
of Paris, who came in next day, and our large com
munity which had remained here, being reunited,
we completely filled our Avhole choir; and never
did we sing with more consolation and spiritual
joy, the anthem " Haec est domus domini firmiter
Eedificata; bene fundata est supra firmam petram.
This is the house of God which is solidly built,
Avhich is firmly founded, because it is founded
upon the rock." Because its only trust is on t'he
sole grace of its Saviour, wiio said to us by his con
duct over us, " I pity this crowd, &c. because, &c."
Avhich led us to observe, how our Saviour disposed
every little circumstance and detail, so as to con
tribute to the consolation of our faith. Soli Deo,
salvatori nostro, per Jesum Christum, dominum
52

410 MEMOIRS OF
nostrum: gloria, et magnificentia ; imperium et
potestas ; ante omne soeculuni ; et nunc, et in soecula
soeculorura. Amen.
Written at Port Royal des Champs, Nov. 28,
16^. (Signed) Soeur Angelique de St. Jean, (Arnauld.)
The Soeur Angelique was soon after chosen
abbess, and the community flattered themselves with
the hope of a peaceful enjoyment of their beloA'ed
seclusion. In this hope they were mistaken. The
house was immediately 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 depriA^ed of their min
isters ; interdicted the sacraments ; and declared
rebels and heretics.
This iniquitous persecution lasted some 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 communion, and
Avere after their death, refused the rites of Christian
sepulture. It Avas at this juncture that M.
Lancelot's letter was Avritten to the M. Angelique
de St. Jean. He happened to haA^e an opportunity
of sending it by M. de Brienne. During this heavy
persecution, the constancy, prudence, and piety of
the M. Angelique, were the stay and support of the
community. During this season of trial, many most deeply in
teresting letters were sent them by their friends.
We select as a sample, this Letter of M. de St.

PORT ROYAL. 411
Marthe, director of Port Royal des Champs, to the
abbess of that monastery.
" The cross is at once the Christian's portion
and his treasure. By the cross of Christ, diAine
justice has been satisfied, and the load of man's
debt cancelled; and in the path of the cross,
disciples most frequently first meet with their
Saviour, and are most generally throughout their
pilgrimage called to walk with him. As Christ
expired on the cross for sin, so are his disciples,
in one sense, called upon to tread in the path
which he trod, by each taking up his own indivi
dual cross. In so doing for his sake, Ave shall
find the richest reward of grace ; Aiz. — communion
with him, and increase in peace and joy in the
Holy Ghost, in which the kingdom of God
within consists ; and Avhich can only be enjoyed
in proportion as our carnal affections are cru
cified. It is by means of afflictions, spiritually endured,
that Christians crucify their earthly affections and
lusts, that the body of sin is destroyed, and their
enemies are conquered. Truly may it be said
" in hoc signo vinces." God who knows all things,
best knows the CAil of our nature, and the tests
the application of which gradually reveals to his
children their latent and unsuspected evils, and
affords the remedies and discipline they require.
In proportion to the inchnation of the natural
man to evil, the path of the spiritual man must
necessarily appear fraught Avith crosses ; because
the one is diametrically opposite to the other.

412 MEMOIRS OF
Happy then that child, whom the Heavenly Father
so hedges in, as not to suffer him to escape from
beneath his chastening hand. There is no greater
mark that God accounts us his children, than that
he not only inflicts tribulation, but that he sup
ports us under it, and Avalks with us through it.
What Ave have to fear is not the cross, but that we
should be so unfortunate as not sufficiently to
esteem its uses, to want grace to profit by it, and
to reap the Avhole of the rich harvest which the
harrow was intended to prepare. Great indeed
is the spiritual hardness of that heart, which does
not feel thankful to God for treating it as he treated
his own son. It is indeed a miserable blindness
to complain, when we ought rather to rejoice that
we are counted worthy to suffer for his sake. It
is grieving the Holy Spirit to receive this great
favour with sorrow and ingratitude ; and lastly, no
thing more certainly shows our indifierence to the
cross of Christ himself, than a disposition to reject
the peculiar cross he offers to ourselves. He
little prizes his master, who refuses conformity with
him. The servant contemns his Lord, who spurns
his livery.
It is on this ground, that St. Peter, addressing
the faithful of the Asiatic churches, tells them, in
order to strengthen these newly converted disciples ;
not to be shaken, even though for a season they
Avere in heaviness, through manifold temptations,
and though the trial of their faith were as by fire ;
but rather, that believing in Jesus Christ Avhom
though not having seen they loved; they may

PORT ROYAL. 413
notwithstanding this trial, rejoice with joy un
speakable and full of glory. St. James also
exhorts us not only to rejoice when we are
tempted by all sorts of afflictions; but more
over to make all our joy consist in these trials,
which are the means by which the Spirit of God
shoAvs a believer his corruptions, and enables
him to resist them. Count it all joy, he says,
when ye fall into divers temptations, knoAving this,
that the trying of your faith Avorketh patience.
But let patience have her perfect Avork, that ye
may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. It
is in the same spirit that St. Paul declares, that
he will alone glory in the cross of his Saviour ; I
Avill glory in nothing but in the cross of our Lord
Jesus Christ. Next to which, he appears to rejoice
in being permitted to take up his own cross, and
follow that crucified Lord. For he only once and
by constraint alludes to his abundant revelations ;
but he discourses Avith us, throughout the whole
of his epistles, of his bonds, his labours, and his
persecutions; and he seems to esteem himself
more favoured in having been called to chains and
dungeons for the name of Christ, than in having
been wrapt into the third heaven.
Amongst all the miseries incident to man, I
know of no object more deplorable, or which calls
for deeper commiseration, than that of professed
disciples of Christ, on whom the cross is indeed laid,
but who are ignorant of its value. Persons who
smart under its rigour, but who do not feed on its
unction ; persons who sink beneath its weight, but

414 MEMOIRS OF
do not enrich themselves with the gold Avith which
it is inlaid; persons Avho viewing it Avith carnal eyes,
or beholding it like the Jews with a veil over their
eyes, see neither the hand that inflicts it, or the uses
it is sent to work out. Persons who in short belieA'e
themselves to be Christians, but who having in truth
never sunk deeply into a sense of the misery and
evil of their own heart, have never consequently
felt that every step in the path of grace, must ne
cessarily be contrary to that of nature ; and that
therefore children of God, so far from wishing to
shake off the cross, wish rather to bear it all their
lives. When Christ says to them, " Take my yoke
upon you, for I am meek and lowly in heart ; my yoke
is easy and my burden light," the heart of the
genuine disciple replies with thanksgivings; for
they well know, that by coming to him, they shall
find rest to their soul ; which are weary and heavy
laden, not with bearing the cross of Christ,
but with the overwhelming intolerable burthen
of sin.
Lord ! whither shall we go to learn these myste
ries, so incomprehensible to Avorldly Avisdom, but
to the same cross, the cross of Christ ? That cross
Avhere thou sufferedst in the eyes of all men : not
only to pay the ransom of all, but to leave us an
example, in enduring thy heavy cross, how we
should each bear our light one. It is by the cross,
heaven is opened to us ; it is by the cross, earth is
crucified to us. "Blessed are they that are per-
.secuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the
kingdom of heaven."

PORT ROYAL. 415
Jesus Christ AA'ould only become our SaAiour by
the cross, and we can only be his disciples by the
same means. Let us then love the occasions he
presents us of suffering for him; as he loved the
will of his Father, which called him to suffer for
us. May we become sensible, that the greatest
favour he can bestow upon us, is to invite us to
accompany him to Mount Calvary. It is nothing
to knoAv Christ merely according to the flesh.
How many Jcavs saw him daily in Jerusalem, and
ate and drank with him, and witnessed his mira
cles, and heard his discourses, who never became
more holy ; and who knowing all these things with
the fullest historic assurance, having been eye Avit-
nesses of the facts, yet were left in profound
blindness of heart, as to the truths connected there
with and the sah^ation of their souls. Let us with
the beloved disciple, the type of disciples, and his
mother, the type of the church ; follow him to the
cross, where few even of his professing disciples
had zeal to follow him, and where the Avoiicl was
scandalized at his weakness and his sufferings. If
we have indeed courage to suffer for him, who suf
fered such unparalleled griefs for us, it Avill then
be time enough to say with St. Ignatius at his mar
tyrdom, " Now I recognize the road my Master trod.
Now I begin to be a disciple." We are only Chris
tians in proportion as we are faithful in renouncing
the world. We were solemnly engaged to do so at
our baptism. But we only in fact execute that en
gagement, when we endure with joy being treated
by the world, as that same evil world treated our

416 MEMOIRS OF
master. The friendship of the world is enmity
with God ; and he who has the friendship of the
world, has the most serious ground to apprehend
that he cannot be in the spirit of him, who though
Avithout sin, was yet crucified by that world, of
Avhich he is caressed and flattered.
We wish to go to heaven ; let us then walk dili
gently in the road that leads there. It is narrow,
it is rugged, it is beset Avith thorns. It is impos
sible to enter it Avithout violence to nature ; it is
equally impossible to persevere in it, without a per
petual crucifixion of the natural man ; and without
resolving by the grace of God, to endure all sorts
of afflictions, both from the constant contrariety of
the path of grace to that of our own evil nature,
and the enmity which from the very same cause, is
exercised by the children of this world against all
children of God. Let us above all remember in
the midst of our severest sufferings, that whilst we
seem to be the sport of the will of the wicked ;
they are in fact only the instruments, used by
measure in the hand of God, to bring upon us th" '
degree of suffering, which he sees it necessary we
should endure. He stands by the furnace; the
flames may blaze, but he regulates the tempera
ture ; he says to the fierce flames of persecution, as
to the billows of affliction, " Hitherto shalt thou go,
and no further." Let us then generously submit
ourselves with a willing heart to his fatherly cor
rection. It has our true happiness in view, and
let us never forget that God has an abundant right
to exercise us by the heaviest trials he sees fit ;

PORT ROYAL. 417
since he has called us to an eternal weight of glory,
Avhich so infinitely transcends them.
Be then of good courage, be steadfast and im
movable. The more rugged the path, the more
clearly may Ave discern the prints of the footsteps
of that Saviour, who trod it before us, and the more
means have we of bringing to our remembrance,
that Ave are the disciples of that Saviour, who Avas
himself made perfect through sufferings. Nay, if
trials even appear beyond our strength, let us not
be dismayed, since he is then doubly engaged, in
weakness to become our strength ; and to give us
patience to endure, and power to conquer.
0 the depths of the wisdom and goodness of
God ! who hast not merely opened heaven to thy
children by the cross, but who hast planted the
path of every one of them with such abundant
crosses, that they may be continually reminded to
look at their crucified Lord and live : and to turn
aAvay from that world in which is no trace of it. 0
Avhat is the deceitfiilness of the human heart ! The
natural vanity even of disciples attaches itself
to our present supposed good works, as it did
formerly to our sins ; to our most holy exercises,
as it did to our worldly accomplishments. Vanity
is that taint of corruption, that pestilential breath
of death, which infects every human thing ! Bles
sed be the path of the cross, which shows us our
evils, and makes us distrust that self-complacency,
which destroys us.
It is a fatal mistake to believe that we love
Christ, if we cannot quit self for him. If a man
Vol. I. 53

418 MEMOIRS OF
hate not father and mother, husband or Avife, nay
his own life also, and take not up his cross to
folloAV Christ he cannot be his disciple. But what
must we do to hate our own life, and to take up
our cross, as the gospel commands, and without
doing which we cannot be Christ's disciples?
Must we flee into eremetic seclusion, must we
undertake ascetic austerities ? Rather let us sub
mit with heartfelt bowedness to the will of God
manifested in his providences ; from the inmost
soul believing that God knows that which is best
for us ; and from our inmost spirit cheerfully and
gladly submitting to, and bearing, whatever cross
is brought upon us. Let us rejoice and be willing
to be treated as our enemies treat us. Hatred per
suades them that it is just we should suffer every
sort of evil. They are delighted Avhen they see
us reduced to extreme misery. Let us be of one
mind with them, though on a dtfierent ground.
They believe us to be vile ; if we know our own
hearts we shall be convinced we are yet viler. K
they deprive us of our friends, and separate us
from those we love, let us thank them for the need
ful admonition to quit our earthly holds, to draAV
nearer and closer to him who has given them to us.
If they deprive us of our wealth, and strip us of
our earthly possessions, and that our brethren who
should assist us, stand by unconcerned; let us
Avillingly be stripped of those things, which are
but the garments of the old Adam, and let us more
zealously put on Jesus Christ. Of what import
ance is it that all earthly goods should fail us,

PORT ROYAL. 419
since the loss of all things in submission to the
divine Avill, is the discipline inflicted to make us
rich in heavenly treasure. Let us remember, that
the poor to whom the kingdom of heaven belongs,
are the poor in spirit. Those who, however little
they have, are fully conscious that little is yet above
their deserts. If then our enemies revile us, let
us be fully sensible, as David was in the case of
'Shimei, that GrOD who sees our hearts, knows we
are yet worse. If we are covered with contempt,
and treated by our brethren as the offscouring of
all things ; let us esteem that state, which, what
ever be the wickedness of our brethren in reducing
us to it, God has yet appointed for us. It is safer to
be little than great in the eyes of men. If they put
us in the lowest place, let us gladly accept it, and
stay where it pleases God we should be, till he
himself sees fit to take us out of it. Why should
that seem so difficult to us, when we recollect that
all men can do to effect our ruin can only, if we
keep under the divine hand, tend to work out our
salvation ? " For all things shall work together for
good to those who love God." Many are those,
Avho like the brethren of Joseph, strip their brother
because he is more righteous than they, and send
him an exile in a foreign land, and steel their
hearts against pity, though he be in destitution,
and though he has been amongst them, and with
the same comforts as themselves. But the end,
if we are faithful, will be that we too may say to
them with Joseph, " Vos cogitastis me malum, sed
Deus vertit illud in bonum." You had the inten-

420 MEMOIRS OF
tion to do me evil, but God has changed that evil
into good. Nay, we may use this language much
more truly than Joseph, for the good he had to
rejoice in was a short lived temporal good, under
an earthly monarch, and in a transient earthly
kingdom; whereas the suffering disciples of
Christ are the elect of the king eternal, immortal,
and invisible; that which they receive is an in
heritance incorruptible and undefiled; and their
kingdom is that blessed land of heavenly promise,
the kingdom of heaven, of which the new Jeru
salem is the capital, and the lamb of God the light
thereof. Do not, my dear Sister, look back with vain
and a too carnal regret at the past ; nor let your
mind dwell with painful retrospect, on those hours,
when your celebrity appeared at its height ; when
your house walked with God, and when the wise,
the great, and the wealthy of this world, Avith one
accord sat at your feet. When the ear heard
you, then it blessed you ; when the eye saw you,
it gave Avitness to you. Remember that Job was
no less the servant of the Most High, when his
possessions were wrested from him, his famil}-
dispersed, and his friends traitors, than when
surrounded by all this world can bestow. Nay
his adversity rather designates him as the child of
God, than his prosperity. Hitherto we have been
as babes in Christ, fed with milk ; now that it be
hooves us to grow up as fathers and mothers m
Israel, our Heavenly Father, Avhose love conducts
us from strength to strength, until we shall each

PORT ROYAL. 421
appear before him in Zion, feeds us with strong meat.
It would be vain indeed to inflict crosses upon our
selves, in the pride of our own hearts, supposing
we are fit to endure them ; but it is a spurious
humility, to doubt that we can bear anything,
under his all powerful and sustaining hand. It is
humility to distrust ourselves. It is faithlessness
to doubt God. Let us then receive it as a token
for good, that he has weaned us from the milk, to
nourish our growth with strong meat. It is true
this bread is very hard and very bitter ; but it is
enough, that it is the bread God has appointed for
us, and if we humbly accept it from his hand,
not looking back, to the flesh-pots of Egypt, A\'e
shall abundantly grow in grace and benediction.
He that has most may find no grace over and
above that he needs ; but he that has least, shall
find that he has also fully sufficient. And if we
do but seek his daily blessing on our daily celestial
bread of his providing; we shall in its strength, be
enabled to journey the whole forty days ; that is,
during the whole time of our life, the season of our
exile, till we arrive at the mount of God, our eternal
inheritance. Be not cast down, if through the length of the
way, and the fierce heat of persecution, your soul
should at times seem as a parched land without
water. If we can but suffer this deprivation, in a
spirit of self-abasement, we need not fear. Let us
remember, that, spiritually as well as temporally,
the son of man grows as a root out of a dry
ground. If Ave do but submit to the Avorkings of

422 MEMOIRS OF
the divine hand, the land will not less be a land
of God. He will cultivatef it himself, -will water
it with a celestial, though perhaps an almost im
perceptible dcAv; he will carefully remove the
stones, and eradicate the thorns. He will render
it fruitful through humiliations. He will with his
own right hand plant there the true Aine ; and he
will purge it, to make it bear fruit more abun
dantly, by pruning off every useless branch, and
raising it from the dust of the earth, to train it
upon the espalier of the cross. What would be
come of the most promising vine, were it not
cultivated, fed, pruned, and trained upwards. —
What would become of the most eminent saint,
if the same God, whose gratuitous mercy planted
the seed of his word in his heart, did not con
tinually prune the too luxuriant natural branches,
and train it to rest on the support of the root of
Christ. The labourer can hope to reap a harvest, only
of the same nature as the seed he has sown. —
Pleasures, human consolations, indulgences of
sense, the satisfaction of our own wills, are the
seeds of all those miseries, which attain the full
expansion of their deadly fruits in hell. But on
the contrary, whilst the indulgence of an evil
nature yields these unhappy fruits, a spiritual
submission for Christ's sake, to crosses, to hu
miliations, self-denial and contradictions are those
seeds which bear their full and blessed fruits of
holiness and happiness in the Avorld to come. —
We shall be truly rich in eternity, if for Christ's

PORT ROYAL. 423
sake Ave have suffered the crucifixion of that evil
nature, which is enmity to him in this world. If
Ave have been Avilling to drink of the bitter cup,
and to be baptised with the baptism he is baptised
with, we shall also sit at his marriage supper,
and be invited to behold his glory. Nothing can
be more obvious than these tAvo truths, and no
thing more universally acknowledged. Yet such
is the inconsistency of man, that the wicked,
Avhilst they confess it, never withhold from sowing
their full measure of that seed, which must neces
sarily produce to them so much misery ; and the
children of Christ with equal folly, whilst acknow
ledging the same truth, seem equally astonished
as though some strange thing had befallen them,
Avhen God subjects them to that discipline and
pruning, which they allow is the means of a more
blessed entrance into an eternal Aveight of glory-.
Let us blush at our own contradictions. We
wish to be godly. We acknowledge the natural
mind is enmity against GoD; and yet we are
astonished Avhen the path of godliness involves a
sacrifice to nature. We know that the world
lieth in wickedness, that the world crucified
Christ; yet we are in the last astonishment, and
think it very strange, when the world does not
admire and honour the followers of the master
they persecuted to death. My dear sisters, let us
not deceive ourselves. Let us learn practically,
w^hat we have long acknowledged theoretically ;
and we shall be quite sure that the truth which
the world does not crucify, is not that truth which

424 MEMOIRS OF
will ever save us. The godliness which does not
scandalize the ungodly Avorld, and which suffers
nothing from the wicked, is not that Avhich Jesus
Christ laid doAvn his life to exhibit to the Avoiid.
On the contrary, we have reason to fear that the
virtue the world admires, is a mere external
human virtue; and that the esteem and peace
which accompany it, will be all its recompense.
0 Lord, the world is indeed at enmity with thee.
Happy indeed are those redeemed spirits of the
just made perfect, Avho standing before thy throne,
and entered into thy rest, enjoy thy presence in
heaven, amidst a blessed community of all the
myriads of heavenly hierarchies : who Avith one
tongue, and heart, and spirit, bless, and laud,
and magnify thy holy name, and enjoy the pleni
tude of all thy benedictions : but happy too, are
those, 0 Lord! Avho, plucked by thy mercy, as
brands from the burning, enjoy communion Avith
thee, in the only way in which it can be enjoyed
in this lower world ; like a flame burning amidst
thorns ; like a treasure unconsumed but molten in
the fierce flames of a surrounding furnace ; like a
traveller, who finds indeed bread and water to sup
port his life, but who traverses an inhospitable de
sert where he has to fight every step of his way, in
the midst of an enemy's land. '
Shall we, 0 Lord, dare to say that we suffer too
much; that thou art a cruel and merciless phy
sician, because thou probest our wounds, to apply
an efficacious remedy? Shall we term thee a
cruel father, because thou chastenest us after the

PORT ROYAL. 425
manner of children, to render us fit for the eternal
inheritance to Avhich thy bounty has called us?
Teach us, 0 Lord, to renounce all the reluctance
of nature. Compel me to adopt from necessity,
that salutary discipline, which the dimness of my
spiritual light did not sufficiently enable me to
discern as my path ; and which the feebleness
of nature rendered me averse to embrace. Assist
the short views of sense and of human reason, by
the Avholesome and beneficent compulsion of thy
providence ; snatch us Avith a strong hand, from our
natural love of ease and supineness. 0 thou good
physician of our mortally diseased souls, inflict
upon us without being withheld by nature's agony,
all the discipline and operations necessary to our
cure. Place us under that regimen, which Avill
best render us strong and robust to folloAv thee in
the path of the cross, to taste the sweet unction,
and feed on the hidden manna, imparted to those
who suffer for thy sake ; and who, feeding on that
celestial food, are enabled in the midst of trials and
persecutions, to keep the word of thy patience, and
to rejoice and give thanks with exceeding joy and
gladness. We, my dear sisters, love Christ . because he
first loved us. But we know he loved us, because
he laid down his life for us ; let us then show the
truth of our love to him, by laying down our
Avill and inclination for him; and like Abraham,
making our faith manifest, by that which is the
test of faith, action. How very little is our spiritual
light, whilst we complain of the injustice of man-
VoL. I. 54

426 MEMOIRS OF
kind. Let us rather be assured that no human
being can have any power over us, but Avhat is
appointed to him by God. A man may, according
to his intention, reap to himself a blessing or a
curse ; but to those who suffer, if it be according
to the Avill of God, there can be but one issue.
Have AA-e not been told, that every man's Avork
shall be tried as by flre ? Why then should Ave be
astonished, when Ave are cast into the furnace ? Let
us rather be of good cheer, knowing that it is only
Avhere valuable metal is to be extracted, that the
ore undergoes the crucible. Let us then view our
persecutors no longer as enemies; but as the fur
nace men, charged to heap on the coal and feed
the flame; Avhilst the master Avho presides, regu
lates the heat and duration of the refining process.
How can Ave like Job submit to the hand of God,
whilst Ave hold in abhorrence the chastening in
struments he employs ? Do we submit to the
surgeon who pronounces amputation necessary to
save life, and yet strike and reAile his operator?
Never let us forget that it is in truth, a secret
rebellion against God if Ave hate persons, simply
for being the instruments of inflicting upon us that
Avhich God sees it is necessary Ave should endure.
Let us then only pray, that the son of God may
himself walk with us through the fiery furnace ;
and that he will be pleased not to slacken his
hand, till the flames have through his blessing,
thoroughly wrought their work, and consumed the
dross and the tin.
Can we, 0 Lord, as thy disciples, desire a

PORT ROYAL. 427
path unlike to thine. Thou leftest the glory and
adoration of angels of heaven, to sojourn amidst
the corruption of earth, and the contumely and
contradiction of sinners. Thy birth was amongst
brute beasts, thy childhood passed in subjection
and poverty. In thy manhood thou wert a man
of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Thy ene
mies reviled thee, the rulers conspired against thee,
the professedly religious cast thee out, thy friends
forsook thee, thou enteredst life amidst the beasts
of the earth, thou departedst from it, nailed upon
the cross. God, thy heavenly father, apparently
to man, abandoned thee ; the synagogue, thy
mother, crowned thee with lacerating thorns ;
the Avorld, whom thou diedst to save, placed a
reed as a sceptre of mockery and derision in thy
hand ! If such was the treatment of the sinless
master, what can be expected by the sinful ser-
A'aiits ? 0 Lord, such as thou art, make thou me !
Beholding thee, may I be transformed in thy
image, and may I one day Avake up in thy perfect
likeness : in the mean time, strengthen me even
on this earth, in my measure, to walk in thy path !
Never let me forget, that I am the soldier of a cap
tain, made perfect through suffering ! The mem
ber of a mystic body, Avhose head was crowned
Avith thorns, and expired on the cross. Let me,
like St. Paul, only glory in the cross of Christ, and
in Him crucified. 0 how poor and ignoble is all
the vain pomp and glory of this world, compared to
the privilege of being allowed, like St. John, to
draw near to our suffering Lord on Cahary, or to

428 MEMOIRS OF
converse on those sufferings with our crucified Lord
on Tabor.
But Avhy have I written you this long epistle on
sufferings ? Why have I given so much time, to
that Avhich ceases with time ? Earthly sufferings,
like earthly joys, are to a Christian but of time and
for time. They equally pass away for ever, on its
rapidly passing stream. Whilst I have written,
and whilst you have read, how many moments of
suffering have hastened by, and been engulfed in
the ocean of things passed, and never to return !
But the bliss, the mercies, the glories of your eter
nal inheritance, every moment hasten nearer ;
and their ineffable fruition is eternal ! If joys are
transient to the world, sorrows are as transient to the
Christian. Let the children of light then blush to
give that time and anxiety to sorrows which they
shall so soon for ever lea\-e ; and not waste their
precious time and thoughts on transient things,
which they condemn in the children of the world,
Avhen given to pleasure. The root of the evil is
the same in both ; since in either instance, the
thoughts, the interest, and the mind, are given to
Avhat is merely temporal and transitory ; but our
privilege is, to have our conversation in Heaven,
our heart and treasure fixed on what is eternal !
Never let us live below it !
My dear Sisters, Avith great consideration.
Yours, in our common Lord. St. Marthe.
The recluses, meanAvhile, were exposed to suffer
ings little less severe than the nuns. Hand-bills

PORT ROYAL. 429
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 to
another, with their lives in their hands. Not un-
frequently the police-officers searched the very
rooms in which they lay concealed. At length
M. Singlin died, from the extremity of suffering.
M. de Saci and M. Fontaine were seized, and put
in the Bastille. Their arrest was accompanied
with many circumstances of unnecessary cruelt}-.
During their stay in the Bastille, they Avere con
tinually threatened with poison. How often may
the just retribution of God be traced OA'cn in this
life ! The officer, who thus exceeded his commis
sion, in unmercifully persecuting the serA'ants of
his Lord, himself died a death of torture, two
months after, by the hand of his oavii child. This
officer was M. Aubray, father to the famous, or
rather infamous poisoner, the Marchioness de
Brinvilhers.

CHAPTER XI.

Pacification of Clement IX. — Port Royal Des
Clmmps. — Its loide celebrity. — Soeur Flavie Pas
sart. — Dorothee Perdreau. — Madame Montgobert's
relation. This persecution of the Port Royahsts continued
for some years.
Meanwhile, that part of their friends whom I
have described as only occasionally retiring to
Port Royal, escaped the extremity of the tempest.
They Avere indeed remarked as Jansenists in the
public eye, but their high rank exempted them
from violence ; and their eminent virtue and in
tegrity in discharging the most important trusts,
compelled universal respect and esteem. M. de
Pomponne, son to M. de Andilli, and brother to
the abbess of Port Royal, was minister of state.
M. H. Arnauld 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 Duchess of Longueville, and the
* The M. Angelique de St. Jean.
(430)

PORT ROYAL. 431
Prince and Princess of Conti. How^ever bigoted
men might be, they Avere too clear sighted to em
ploy persecution against those with whose exal
tation their own interests Avere so immediately
interwoven. Hence these, and many other per
sonages of equal merit, still possessed considerable
influence. These excellent persons still entertained the most
Avarm affection and the most profound veneration
for the saints, whose piety had been instrumental
in their conversion. They only Avaited a favour
able opportunity to show the firmness of their at
tachment by effectually serving them.
As soon as the first fury of the storm had a little
spent itself, they consulted together. They re
solved to unite their strength, and to exert the
Avhole weight of their influence to serve their
friends. Madame de Longueville took upon herself
to be the ostensible head of this party. All delib
erations were carried on at the hotel Longueville.
Under her protection, the archbishop of Sens, the
bishop of Chalons,,with Arnauld and Nicole, drcAv
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 expla
nation should be accef)ted. This explanation con
tained a full submission in matters of faith, and
promised, as before, a respectful silence in matters
of fact.
The duchess of Longueville wrote herself to the
Pope on the subject. Clement IX. had then just
entei'ed on his pontificate. He was a man of a

432 MEMOIRS OF
pacific disposition, and had long deplored the
diAisions of the church. He immediately issued
a brief of reconciliation. This act was termed
the pacification of Clement IX. It took place in
1668. The prison doors were immediately opened.
M. Arnauld was introduced at court. The re
cluses returned in peace to Port Royal. The nuns
Avere released from their long confinement. The
confessors and directors were restored. Universal
felicitations were made to the Jansenists. Even
the Galilean clergy and the archbishop of Paris,
Avho 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, when they
found that their flock, though so long scattered, had
individually deepened in piety. They were as the
three children coming out of the furnace, not only
Avith their clothes unsinged, but loosed from the
bonds with which they entered.
The period which immediately succeeded this
persecution, was the brightest in the annals of Port
Royal. The fame of this seclusion was extensively
spread. Its reputation both for learning and
sanctity, was firmly established. The number of
nuns and of recluses became augmented in a de
gree far exceeding that of any former period.
Amongst several of the new recluses were persons

PORT ROYAL. 433
of very large fortune. Considerable sums Avere
expended in enlarging the monastery and gardens.
The duke of Luynes and M. de Bagnols had each
appropriated immense sums to add to the abbey.
The former of these gentlemen alone built an
additional dormitory, containing seventy-two cells.
The duke of Liancourt also, and Madame de Lon
gueville, built several new apartments. Port
Royal des Champs became one of the most
spacious abbeys in all France, It contained nearly
tAVO hundred nuns, besides a very considerable
number of ladies, who had apartments in the
monastery, and whose piety induced them to wi.sh
to board there without assuming the monastic
habit. The recluses also had very considerably
increased their numbers, and the celebrity of Port
Royal had trebly multiplied the number of those
friends who wished to be under their direction.
Families of rank, affluence, and piety, who did not
wish to quit their avocations 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 LongueAille, the duke and duchess of
Luynes, and of Liancourt.
The Port Royalists might now be divided into
three general classes. The nuns, who occupied
the monastery, and followed the rule of Citeaux.
The recluses, who led a retired life, free from all
luxury or unnecessary intercourse with men, and
who each served the whole community by follow
ing some occupation, either manual or intellectual.
Vol. I. 55

434 MEMOIRS OF
These AA-ere bound by no vows. They, at this
period, consisted of two companies. The men
who lived at the farm-house belonging to Port
Royal and other small cottages, and the ladies
above mentioned, who boarded in apartments in the
monastery. The third class was composed of the
innumerable multitude of friends under their direc
tion. 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 con
siderable one. It had been long important 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
numbers, and from the immense wealth and ex
alted rank of a large proportion of its members.
For eleven years it continued to flourish. Its
prosperity and usefulness seemed to increase day
by day. On every side it appeared blessing and
blessed. The same God who had given them
grace sufficient to their day in adversity, now be
stowed on them that double portion which is need
ful to stand in prosperity. Though so many rich,
so many noble, so many learned were called, still
Port Royal stood a bright example of unfeigned
humility and self-abasement, of self-denial, charity,
daily taking up the cross, and following a crucified
Lord. In the winter of 1670, death deprived the mo
nastery of Port Royal des Champs of very many
of its members. Amongst those who departed

PORT ROYAL. 435
this life, were the Soeurs St. Ann of St. Bernard of
St. Barthlemi Fortier; who, always uniform in her
conduct, and faithful to her duties, had spent nearly
forty years in the cloister ; likewise the tAA'o excel
lent Soeurs M. St. Luce Garnier, and Magdeleine
de St. Opportune Roustel; the latter of whom
received on her death-bed the habit of novice,
Avhich was given her in consideration of her zeal
and piety. On the second of May they also lost
another lay sister, called Marie Magdeleine de
Charron, on whom God showed forth his mercy
in a very particular manner. She was the last
nun who quitted the house of Paris, to unite her
self to her sisters of Port Royal des Champs, —
" She thought herself already in paradise," said
the M. Angelique de St. Jean, " when she saw her
self restored to the M. Agnes, and the community.
All her sentiments were one continual succession
of joy, praise, and thanksgiving, for her restora
tion. She lived in peace, and died in humble
faith." God who has pity on whom he will, and who
leaves to their natural hardness of heart whom he
sees fit ; cited at the same time before his tribunal,
the Soeur Flavie Passart, so famous for her intrigues
and her treachery.
As soon as the M. Agnes heard that she was dan
gerously ill, she was deeply touched with the state
of this Avretched person ; she seemed as though
her heart had forgotten all the years of her dupli
city, treachery, and enmity ; and that it only retained
a recollection of her, as when, abandoned and

436 MEMOIRS OF
destitute, she in her childhood cast herself on the
charity of the Mfere Angelique. Having heard
that she was in imminent danger, and that she
was friendless in the midst of the community she
had taken such pains to disunite from Port Royal,
the M. Agnes sat down and wrote to this most un
worthy daughter, a heart affecting letter. It was
expressed Avith the affection of a spiritual mother ;
but also with the faithfulness of one who feels the
value of the immortal soul, and who bears in mind,
that the person receiving it, may soon be called into
the presence of God.
The following circumstances gave occasion to
this letter : — M. Desseaux, a, man of deep piety,
Avho had lived for forty years a retired life at
Champ Garnier, a farm belonging to Port Royal;
and who had a sister who was a nun there, was
nephew to S. Flavie. Having heard that his aunt
was very ill, he went over to Paris, to inquire
after her. He was informed that she Avas at the
last extremity. He then charged the nun at the
turn, who was his cousin, to go to the Soeur Flavie,
and to tell her he was come to inquire after her
health, both on his account and on that of the
nuns of Port Royal, who were always anxious con
cerning her Avelfare. The nun having executed
her commission, returned, and brought Avord from
the sick nun, that she deeply felt his kindness in
taking the trouble of coming; and earnestly re
commended herself to his prayers, and no less to
those of the nuns of Port Royal des Champs. M.
Desseaux was ready mounted on his horse to return.

PORT ROYAL. 437
when he was again summoned by one of the nuns
of the turn, and told there was yet a word more
she wished to say. Being again seated in the
parlour, the same nun, his cousin, Avho had before
spoken to him, after having carefully shut the
door, asked him* if he was quite alone ? M. Des
seaux having answered that he was ; she caused
another nun to draw near, and then told him, she
Avas expressly charged by the Soeur Flavie to ex
press to him the most lively gratitude for the charity
of the nuns of Port Royal ; and that not only for their
present inquiries, but especially for all the number
less obligations for which she was indebted to
them ; and that she charged the nun, above all,
to say, that being now in the immediate prospect
of eternity, she threw herself in spirit at their feet,
and most unfeignedly besought their forgiveness,
and earnestly entreated them to forget the past. —
But these nuns at the same time represented the
durante under which they found themselves en
thralled, and required M. Desseaux to give them
his assurance of the most inviolable secrecy. M.
Desseaux accordingly returned to Port Royal des
Champs, and executed his commission. That com
munity, deeply affected by the state of their former
sister, and by the message she had sent, consi
dered how they might devise some means of
making knoAvn to her, that they accepted her mes
sage in good part, and heartily forgave her, hoping
GoD would do the same. On this account, the M.
* It must he remembered, that the monastic grate divided them,
and that the curtains were probably drawn.

438 MEMOIRS OF
Agnfes Avrote the aboA^e mentioned letter ; the nuns
thinking nothing could prove more consolatory to
her, on account of the strict intimacy which had
formerly subsisted between them. The epistle
was written in great haste, because M. Desseaux
had reported the physician to have pronounced,
that in all probability the Soeur Flavie had not
twenty-four hours to live. The Mere Agnes, wish
ing both to comfort the Soeur Flavie, and also to
maintain the strictest secrecy as to what had passed,
that she might neither betray the intermediate
nuns, nor expose the dying penitent to ill-treat
ment, purposely avoided any reference to the
message she had received ; and contented herself
with only expressing the strong and continued
affection of the nuns of Port Royal ; and assuring
her of their entire forgetfulness of the past, but
beseeching her, if anything pressed upon her own
conscience, to look to God through the merits of
Christ, who was abundant in mercy, and whose
precious blood would wash away all sin. No more
was heard on the subject for a whole month, at the
expiration of Avhich time, a long letter w-as deli-
A^ered to the M. Agnes, bearing the signature of
Soeur Flavie ; but neither expressed in her style,
which was peculiar, nor yet written in her hand. —
This epistle, after m^ny common place observations,
termed the nuns of Port Royal disobedient, re-
belhous, &c., and added, that her greatest consola
tion was the recollection of her own conduct at
Port Royal. The letter was a long one ; but whilst
the nuns of Port Royal des Champs Avere occupied

PORT ROYAL. 439
in imagining whence it originated, they received
intelligence of the death of the Soeur Flavie ;
Avhich must haA'e taken place in less than a week
after the date of the letter. The mystery of this
epistle was never unravelled. Whether she in
truth repented or not, must be left to the Searcher
of hearts. Whether as a sincere penitent, she
found acceptance Avith God, who can snatch a
brand even from the burning ; and only experi
enced the temporal Avretchedness, of finding herself
on her death-bed, separated from all her faithful
spiritual friends ; and surrounded by persons, only
occupied in betraying her soul, in stifling the voice
of her bitter remorse, and in denying her every
means of spiritual felloAvship ; or whether God saw^
it fit to leave her, to shoot the irrevocable gulf
steeped in the spirit of spiritual slumber and sleep ;
leaving her an awful warning instead of a monu
ment of saving grace, it is not for us to decide. No
one had pity on her soul, but the nuns of Port
Royal, Avhom she had so basely betrayed; they
made for her the usual prayers, Avhich they continued
for thirty days. The archbishop of Paris strictly
forbade that any particulars of her death should
be inquired into on the one hand, or mentioned on
the other.
Though it did not occur till very many years
after, this seems a suitable occasion to introduce
the account of the close of her tool and companion
in error. It was however not until the beginning
of the year 1685, that God cited to his tribunal
the Soeur Dorothee Perdreau. She had main-

440 MEMOIRS OF
tained, for many years, her usurped seat of abbess
of Port Royal de Paris ; at least a possession un
disturbed by men, but unblessed by God. The
remorse, which first occasionally seemed to rouse
her from her deep lethargy, gradually became
more acute and harrowing; it gave her perpetual
pain, and left its deep traces on her harassed,
anxious, and troubled countenance. Truly there
is no peace to the wicked. At length, unable to
bear her torment, she earnestly, and at all hazards,
besought permission to see and speak, and pour
out her heart, to some of her former friends ; but
she never could obtain it. The false counseUors
Avho had urged her to the steps she had taken,
would never permit her to retrace them. In vain
did they try to calm her acute anguish. Often did
she exclaim, in the bitterness of her heart, " I
have once been at Port Royal, and once drank of
its spirit! I know, better than you can, the
scandal and infamy of my usurping from ambition,
the charge which so holy a nun as the Mere
Angelique Arnauld renounced from humihty!"
Nor was this her only grief: sorrow, distress,
harassment, and vexation, tormented her on all
sides. On the one hand, the Soeur Flavie, a
person far her superior in talent and intrigue, and
who had begun her schemes, solely with a view
to be abbess herself, was her most unrelenting
enemy. In pubhc she treated her with the
most cutting contempt and ridicule : secretly, she
formed never-ending intrigues and cabals against
her, and in every respect sought to thwart and

port royal. 441
contradict her. In vain did the Soeur Dorothee,
in sincere repentance, and impossibility of re
tracing her steps, frequently earnestly desire to
do the best she could to establish the ancient
discipline of Port Royal, in her own usurped
monastery. The five or six nuns of Port Royal,
who had been persuaded to join her by the
sophistry of false teachers, no longer paid her
the obedience they had formerly yielded to their
superiors at Port Royal. The Soeur Dorothee
soon found what will ever be experienced by
unfaithful spiritual guides, that it is much more
easy to maintain a perfectly strict religious disci
pline, than to enforce a relaxed one. Because a
sacrifice of natural will must take place in either
case; and the human heart will far sooner make
that sacrifice when Avhat is required is truly
according to the full dictate of conscience, and
to the advice of a person we know to be faithful,
than when the sacrifice falls short of that which is
truly the will of God, and is proposed, for form
sake, by a person we know to be unfaithful. It is
easier to make a complete sacrifice, that will fully
satisfy conscience, than a half sacrifice which falls
short of it. Hence in every church, and every
religious institution, any relaxation is but the
prelude to a complete and entire fall. Hence,
finding it impossible to govern those who knew
her to be unfaithful, she was compelled to yield
one point after another, in the hopes of bribing
them even to preserve a poor outward show of
respect. Her spiritual directors added still more
Vol. L 56

442 MEMOIRS OF
to her affliction. They ruled her with a rod of
iron; and continually stopped her mouth with
the most haughty insolence, whenever she de
plored to them, Avhich she often did with bitter
tears, the relaxation of her house. The fact was,
that the evil counsellors who had separated Port
Royal de Paris from Port Royal des Champs, felt
their honour interested in the flourishing state of
the former. But as only the two Soeurs Dorothee
and Flavie, and six more out of the whole number
of one hundred and eighty Port Royal nuns, Avere
the fruit of their sophistry and cajolery, and of the
threats and incarceration of years ; and as no
person of any piety w-ould join their iniquitous
institution, they found themselves in a most awk-
Avard situation. The total incapacity of the Soeur
Dorothee, and the indulgences they were obliged
to connive at to maintain their usurpations, to
gether with festivals they gave to propitiate the
public, had occasioned the most entire disorgani
zation of their temporal affairs : so that although
they had wrested from Port Royal des Champs,
the magnificent house and estabhshment of Port
Royal de Paris, and though they had iniquitously
deprived the hundred and eighteen inhabitants of
Port Royal des Champs, of nearly two thirds of its
revenues for the house at Paris, which contained
eight lapsed Port Royal nuns ; yet they saw them
selves on the eve of a scandalous bankruptcy.
Their poverty and distress, as well as their relaxed
discipline and extravagance, Avere talked of at
every petit souper of Paris; and they saw this

PORT ROYAL. 443
institution which it had been the object, so many
years, of so much sophistry, fraud, and oppression,
to accomplish, converted into a mere engine of
holding them up to the contempt and derision of all
catholic Christendom. In order then to do away this
imputation, these evil directors had it at heart,
above all things, to increase the number of the
nuns ; but as no religious persons would join them,
these directors obliged the abbess to relax the
rules in every point, in order to open the door to
the multitudes, Avhom want of fortune to establish
themselves in the world, reduced to Avish for an
asylum; but whom want of piety and vocation,
excluded from Port Royal des Champs. Yet even
this means did not succeed ; the ten or twelve
who came, were sufficient effectually to render
hopeless any attempt at reformation ; Avhilst they
were far too few to give the monastery- reputation
in the eyes of the -vv^orld ; all of Avhich bad success
embittered the spiritual directors still more against
the unfortunate abbess, Avho had been their tool.
On her they now threw all the blame, instead of
taking it to themselves, to whom it was chiefly
due. They had indeed raised her to the abbacy,
almost solely on account of her incapacity, hoping
to find in her an easy tool; but they now dis
covered that very incapacity wholly precluded the
strenuous exertion which might possibly have
retrieved affairs. The Soeur Dorothee, meaiiAvhile,
very different from the ambitious Flavie Passart,
truly deplored the state of the house, and mourned
over its lamentable fall, and its Avide difierence.

444 MEMOIRS OF
from what it was before the separation. She re
proached her directors continually, with having
imposed on her the burthen of governing others;
and declared again and again, with tears, that she
never would have acceded but from the fear lest
the house should be dissolved and lost. She
added, Avith the most piercing expressions of sor-
roAV, " that they must be alone responsible for all
the evil." That they well knew it was solely
their threats, and her timidity, and Avant of intre
pidity, to bear like her mothers and sisters the
privations of sacraments, and fulminations of ex
communications, which had alone prevented her
from following those she ever venerated ; and
whose seat they had forced her, against her Avill,
and against her conscience, to usurp. And twc
or three of the nuns of the ancient stamp, having
joined Avith her, and having bitterly bewailed the
relaxed state of the monastery to a priest, who
sometimes officiated there, and who Avas the only
spiritual teacher they had; the young relaxed
ones complained to the director, and had him
silenced. Those who had placed her in office,
Avere ever upbraiding her with having accepted it,
and with her incapacity, which she was also con
tinually reminded of, in the most disrespectful
terms, by her nuns. Such was the state of this
unhappy abbess. Everything showed her deep
distress of mind. Having at one time heard of a
pious Benedictine, she wrote to him, begging him
to come, for the urgent spiritual relief of one of
her nuns. He instantly Avent there, at seven in

PORT ROYAL. 445
the morning, when the abbess herself came, and
in tears, and in the greatest distress, spoke of her
own wretched situation, of the relaxation of her
monastery, of the great pain and remorse she felt
at having been terrified into compliance, by bad ad
visers. She spoke till twelve o'clock at noon, and
in the greatest anguish and agitation. In vain did
she fast, pray, &c. &c. the relaxation of her mon
astery, her own usurpation, the unjust wresting of
the house of Port Poyal, and its revenues, lay heavy
on her heart. Well did she feel, it could not have
the blessing of God. The Benedictine expressed
his satisfaction at her deep compunction ; " truly,"
he said, " these at least are precious remains."
" Ah," said the miserable abbess, " our best mo
ments are but an empty shadoAv of what aa-o learnt
once at Port Royal ! there, there at that blessed
house, which Ave fools have miserably betrayed, there
indeed, you Avill see the substance itself!" Very
soon after, the noAVS arrived that the Mere Dorothee
Perdreau had departed this life, on the 4th of Jan
uary, 1685. But the particulars of her death were
carefully hushed up.
Soon after, however, a most extraordinary story
was covertly circulated. So marvellous as to re
fute belief; and yet so awful, and so characteristic,
that many thought it at least showed that God
can punish by the operations of an evil conscience,
and a troubled imagination, without the interven
tion of any external circumstances. The story was
again hushed up ; yet a sort of mystery was pre
served, which prevented it from being utterly

446 MEMOIRS OF
disbelieved. But the circumstance itself, was
a few weeks after authenticated from Port Royal
de Paris itself M. de Mongobert, widow of the
Marquis of Mongobert, of the house of Joyeuse,
having one day paid a visit to M. de la Grange,
a nun at Port Royal de Paris; she asked her
Avhether the story current of the death of the
abbess Dorothee Perdreau, w^as true. M. de la
Grange said, " I cannot take upon me to say
Avhat particulars may haA'e been related to you ;
but nothing is more certainly true, than the
mysterious circumstances with which it Avas ac
companied. We can trust you ; and every parti
cular we are about to tell you, you may assuredly
rely upon." She then called another nun, and
said to her, " My sister, draw near ; we may open
our minds to this lady, and speak to her in full
confidence. Do let us unburden our hearts, and
confide to her what has passed." The nuns then
related the dreadful remorse and perturbation of
mind experienced by the Soeur Dorothee; and
not by her only, but by some of the unfaithful
nuns of Port Royal, her companions in guilt.
They macerated their flesh, performed long and
rigorous fasts, the most austere penances, and long
watches, but in vain ; it seemed as if they found
no peace. One evening before the 29th of Decem
ber, all the other nuns being retired to bed, it was
the turn of two of the former Port Royal nuns, to
perform the nightly watch at the perpetual adorar
tion of the holy sacrament. The nuns they re
lieved were retired, and they knelt doAvn alone in the

PORT ROYAL. 447
church. That church, Avliose walls had heard
their early vows; in Avhich the Mere Angelique,
Avho had received them to profession, the Mere des
Anges, and so many of the Avorthies of Port Royal,
whose memories they had disgraced, were buried. —
A solitary lamp steadfastly, but dimly burnt over
the altar ; and they knelt Avith awe, and yet seek
ing to fix their heart in deep penitence on him
Avhose sacrifice is perpetuated on the altar. The
dampness of the church struck a chill over them. —
The night was dark and gusty. Yet as they thought
on him, whose precious blood was spilled for all sin,
they felt a sad comfort and deep abasement. The
night was long and dark ; they Avere at an advanced
age ; they had fasted long and severely ; the watch
Avas to be prolonged through all the long hours of
the night. They prayed, till mental prayer suc
ceeded to vocal; and at length, distinct thought
seemed, as it were, absorbed in silence before the
awful presence of God. When suddenly, they saw,
as it were, a shadoAv rise from the tomb of the Mere
Angelique, which was just without the grate, sepa
rating the nuns' choir, from the nave of the church ;
and as they looked, they saw the shade assume her
semblance. It bore her countenance, but the icy
gravity of death, and of stern reproof sat upon it.
In her shadowy hand was the abbess's crosier. And
it passed on with a majestic port, beyond that of
living mortals, drawing near from the dark recesses
in the opposite depths of the church. The grate
stopped it not. It entered their choir, draAving near
with a grave and solemn step. The two nuns were

448 MEMOIRS OF
transfixed with aAve, and horrible fear. Their flesh
crept, as the spectre approached; till it stopped
(having passed the whole length of the choir) and
seemed to sit down in the abbess's seat ; that is, the
first place, at the bottom of the choir, on the right
side. The apparition being seated, and elevating
the crosier; they thought they saAV, by an opposite
door, a second shadowy form, resembling the Soeur
Dorothee, enter ; on Avhom the apparition fixed its
glazed eyes, and sternly said, " Soeur Dorothee !
Soeur Dorothee ! I hereby summon you ! Appear
before the tribunal of God, and give up your ac
count !" The accent Avas awful and heart chilling ;
and as the spectre fixed its eyes, it seemed as though
the Soeur Dorothee was irresistibly drawn near by
a deadly fascination ; till being about to prostrate
herself, at the footstool of the spectre abbess, the
Avhole vanished.
And the spell being as it were broken, the nuns,
with one accord, rushed out of the church, and ran
to the abbess Dorothee, to whom they told the
whole : who being seized with the most violent
terror exclaimed, " 0 my God ! my God ! I shatl
die immediately," which she accordingly did, a few
days after.*
* The singularity of this relation seems to demand a more
particular reference, see Lettre de Du Fosse at the end of Du
Fossa's Memoires, pp. 515 — 517. Also Dom Clemencet, Tom.
8 pp. 99. Also Gilbert's Memoires, Tom. 3, pp. 6 — 8. Also
Lettres Edifiantes. Likewise see the death of 1' Abbesse intruse
Dorothee Perdreau, in the general histories of Port Koyal, Clem
encet, Gilbert, &c. &c.

PORT ROYAL. 449
Such was the relation of Madame la Grange, to
Madame de Montgobert. Whatever might be their
opinion of this singular narration ; at the present
day, it will probably receive but one interpretation.
It is indeed an awful memento, that a righteous
God needs no extraordinary outward chastisements
to punish the guilty; the terrors of an evil con
science, and troubled imagination, may prove as effi
cient instruments of punishment in his retributive
justice as the most severe temporal scourge.
Vol. I. 57

CHAPTER XII.

Death of Madame De Longueville — Violent Persecu
tion — Recluses Exiled — M. De Saci — M. Angelique
De St. Jean — Beautiful Letters of M. St. Marthe,
and L'Ahb^ Boileau.
For the short space of eleven years, the commu
nity of Port Royal des Champs shone forth, a bril
liant example of almost every gift of nature and of
grace. At the end of this period, Madame de Longue
ville died. Her death took place in 1679. It then
clearly appeared what had been the real motive
for suspending the persecution. The king's respect
for so near a relative was the true cause of the Jan
senists being so long unmolested during the life
of that princess. She had scarcely been deceased
one month, before the Jesuits openly renewed their
hostilities. That storm now burst upon them which finally
overwhelmed Port Royal. All the recluses re
ceived an order from government finally and
immediately to quit Port Royal. Most of them
(450)

PORT ROYAL. 451
died in poverty and exile, but rich in faith and
good works. A lingering, but cruel persecution,
was instituted against the nuns, Avho Avere now
deprived of their protectors. They were first in
terdicted from receiving either scholars or novices.
' This alone would have insured the termination of
the establishment. 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 reA'^enues. Although thus unjustly deprived
of their property, their charity did not fail. They
had formerly maintained four medical nien 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 noAv denied themselves, to continue
them in their poverty. They have frequently,
with a cheerful countenance, made a liberal
donation, when, at the same time, they had
not wherewith to purchase food Tor the next
meal. Meanwhile, as temporal sorrows pursued, and
temporal losses assailed them on every side, so
their faith was not suffered to fail. Their spiri
tual riches seemed still to increase, and the daily
trimmed lamps of these truly wise -virgins shone
the brighter, and gave forth a light more pure, as
the quickly closing night of adversity blackened
around them. Very many of the recluses and
spiritual guides, who though remoA^ed to dista^^t

452 MEMOIRS OF
exiles, still carried on an occasional intercourse
by letter with Port Royal, were now called from
poverty and exile on earth, to the presence of
the divine Master they had so long and so faith
fully served. They died rich in faith and good
AVorks. There is scarcely any one of their number
Avhose life would not furnish a religious or literary
biographer with a highly interesting subject. But
the limits of this work must prevent our entering
on a theme, which would afford such voluminous
materials. We will not, however, refuse our
readers a brief sketch of the death and funeral of
M. de Saci :* because the account is less prolonged
than many ; because he was one of the most dis
tinguished directors of Port Royal, and of the
most eminent of Scripture commentators; and
because, as the eminent translator of the Scriptures,
he is well known to the British public. To which
it may be added, that this little sketch, the basis
of which is taken from Fontaine, his pupU, his
secretary, his faithful friend during his long im
prisonment in the Bastille presents a striking
* Louis Isaac ie Maitre de Saci, was youngest brother to
M. le Maitre ; and like him, a recluse at Port Royal. He en
tered priest's orders, and was for many years its director. He
was eminently pious, even from his youth up. His translation of
the Bible is by many persons esteemed the best version of the
Scriptures extant, not excepting our own. The text is that
used by the British and Foreign Bible Society. It is accom
panied by a commentary, which appears to have been highly
useful to many of our most celebrated commentators, amongst
whom we may especially mention Gill and Henry. It was chiefly
written in the Bastille, in company with Du Foss6.

PORT ROYAL. 453
view of the spirit and manners of Port Royal. It
is Fontaine Avho speaks. " M. de Saci took up
his abode entirely at Port Royal des Champs,
about three or four years after his liberation from
the Bastille. I had apartments at first in the
neighbourhood of Paris, and afterwards at St.
Mande, for the convenience of going backwards
and forwards, to superintend the publication of
his Bible. It was painful to me to be in any de
gree separated from my dear and revered guide
and master, to whom I had devoted myself even
from my childhood upwards; who had been the
guide of my boyhood, the faithful spiritual direc
tor of my manhood, the master in whose service I
was employed, and whom I had the favour to be
permitted to remain with, during his long im
prisonment. Nevertheless, though I had seldom,
if ever before, been separated from him, I cheerfully
took up my abode there, that I might the more
assiduously and effectually promote his business,
and the sooner return to my beloved seclusion. I
therefore spent the Avhole of the winter of 1678 at
St. Mande, continually hoping that each month,
as it rolled by, would bring my labours to a con
clusion. And refreshing myself with the prospect
of then immediately returning to my dear mas
ter, and offering myself to serve him for life, in
any office in which it should please him to employ
me. A few weeks however after Easter, I received a
letter from M. de Saci, desiring me to come over
to him to Port Royal des Champs without delay.

454 MEMOIRS OF
I joyfully received the summons, imagining that
M. de Saci was about to anticipate the proposal I
had so long cherished at heart. I instantly resolved
to give up every prospect of pecuniary emolument,
and go.
I cannot describe the delight with which I
caught the first glimpse of the top of the spire of
Port Royal, as I drew near to the brow of the steep
Avooded descent, that overhangs the monastery.
God (thought I) has in lo-ving kindness and
mercy, granted all the ardent desires so long
cherished in the secret of my heart. Yes, in this
beloved A'alley, shall I find my home ; to my dear
and honoured master, shall I devote the rest of a
life, he first was the means of dedicating to God !
in this spot hallowed by so many saints, shall I
end my days. I shall sleep at the feet of him, who
first taught me to know the value of the precious
blood of Christ; my dust shall rest in peace,
amongst the dust of his saints. 0 with what ful
ness of joy, did I once again enter the well known
church, and, throwing myself prostrate, bless God,
and offer myself to him, to do with me what
seemed him good. But 0 hoAV little do we often
know what we pray for! God did indeed hear
my prayer, and answer it. Answered it in
abundant mercy, yet far differently to what I
expected. As soon as I entered M. de Saci's study, he
arose and tenderly and closely embraced me, with
an expression of emotion Avhich he was not wont
to betray; and AA'hieh his habitual calmness and

PORT ROYAL.' 455
tranquillity rendered very unusual. At length I
had courage to make my proposal ; but what Avas
my astonishment, when he replied in evident sur
prize, " How ! is it possible you do not knoAv, that
M. de Harley, the archbishop of Paris, 'was here
3^esterday; (May 17, 1679,) and has given notice
to every one of us, to retire from hence for ever,
Avithin a week?" The tears came into my eyes,
but I could not answer, so totally unexpected Avas
this blow.
Having however obtained a comfortable sum,
by copying manuscripts, and by having been em
ployed as a professor in the Port Royal schools ; I
now blessed God, Avho had thus put it into my
poAver to ask the dear and revered master, to Avhom
all my life, I had been so deeply indebted, to do
me the favour to come and reside with me at St.
Mande ; and to repose, his declining years with
one Avho so deeply owed him a pupil's reA^erence,
and more than a child's affection. Yet I had not
courage at once to make this request^ to one so
very greatly my superior, and to whom I owed
such continual obligation. My dear master seeing
my heart wrung, said, "Yes, my dear friend, so
it is ! we have often blessed God for having made
us the means of usefulness to others ; let us now
bless him, for managing for us a retreat, which by
his grace may be so useful to ourselves. Alas!
how much do even the most holy and best of ser
vants, need of purification. How much more so
do we. Our spiritual fathers, M. de St; Cyran,
M. de Singlin, M. Rebours, M. Dumont; all

456 MEMOIRS OF
saints, all chosen faithful servants ; yet after they
had served their long and arduous d<ay-, had each of
them the favour to have a way opened to them (for
a favour it was, though opened by persecution) to
prepare themselves in their latter days, for their
entrance into the immediate presence of God. It
was the voice of the Lord, though speaking
through the mouths of their enemies ; yet speak
ing in tender mercy, for their good. Surely' then
if they reaped that blessing, and found it to be so
when uttered by an enemy who had no legitimate
authority ; how, shall we not listen to him, even
more willingly, when he speaks to us by the mouth
of our ecclesiastical superior?" He added much
more, which my emotion prevented me from dis
tinctly remembering. But as he spoke, my soul
became tranquillized, and returned to its rest.
When he ceased, I besought him to do me the
honour to come and dwell with me at St. Mande.
I told him that I had taken a large house there,
to which was attached a neat and commodious
chapel; and that I had beguiled the hours' of my
long separation from Port Royal, by furnishing it
in a plain, but commodious manner; on purpose
to have it in my power to receive there, any of
my dear fathers in Christ, should either business
require their temporary residence in the proximity
of Paris; or should any new persecution arise, to
scatter them from their beloved seclusion. I
warmly urged my suit, and I observed with in
expressible joy, that his choice would have been
to comply ; but he was afterwards so strongly urged

PORT ROYAL. 457
to fix his abode at Pomponne,* that he could not
refuse ; either consistently with propriety to so near
a relation as M. de Pomponne, or with a due regard
for Avhat might yet be done, through his medium,
to delay the final extinction of Port Royal. He re
tired then to Pomponne, where I often visited him,
and where he lived in a small cottage in profound
seclusion. M. de Luzanci, the brother of the Mere
Angelique de St. Jean, (and like myself his pupil
and friend) shared his retreat. His time was chiefly
spent in prayer, and in writing. Many of his most
valuable works were either composed or revised in
this solitude. M. de Luzanci, whose modesty with
held him from undertaking works of his own, as
sisted in transcribing : and superintended the print
ing and publication. How nothing is lost which is
done in obedience to the will of God, which can
pour an equal blessing either on social or solitary
duties. When M. de Saci's path Avas appointed by God
at Port Royal, he shone as a light amidst those
bright luminaries. Numbers of the rising gen
eration educated in their schools, of recluses
retired at les Granges, and of holy nuns, and of
friends of Port Royal, looked to him for direction ;
and all those multitudes, holy and enlightened as
they were, would have exerted every nerv^e to
prevent M. de Saci's banishment; and considered
his imprisonment in the Bastille, and his exile at
* The estate of M. de Pomponne, brother to the abbess An
gelique de St. Jean, first cousin to M. de Saci, and first minister
of state to Louis XIV.
Vol. L 58

458 MEMOIRS OF
Pomponne, as the greatest blow that vital religion.
could receive. Yet how different are the Avays of
God to ours ! it is to that very imprisonment in the
Bastille, Ave are indebted for his invaluable* trans
lation and comment on the Bible. To his exile,
Ave likewise owe many of his spiritual letters, and
the most excellent of his Avorks. That voice with
Avhich he spake amidst his disciples in the days of
his publicity, is passed away with them from the
earth ; and it is from the very entombment of
the exile they most apprehended, that his usefulness
has acquired permanence ; and that he is enabled
to make that voice of wisdom and of evangelical
truth, still heard, amidst the remoteness of distant
centuries. M. de Saci, having receiA-ed a handsome annuity
from the Duchess de Longueville, disposed of a con
siderable part of it in forming a library, Avith a Aiew
to lend books to those destitute of the means of
procuring them. The remainder he spent in buy
ing and distributing books to poor, but devoted ec
clesiastics. The last time I saw him, being then
at the advanced age of seventy-one years, he re
quested me to select from his library all the books
I might like to have, as he intended leaving his
library to M. du Foss§, but wished in the mean
time to make me a handsome present of books he
had himself used, and which he meant afterwards
to replace.
* This is the French translation circulated by the Bible So
ciety ; it has been generally esteemed the best extant, and that
not excepting our own excellent one.

PORT ROYAL. 459
For four years, M. de Saci continued in his re
tirement, daily increasing in piety and humilit}-.
In the summer of 1683, he was seized with a vio
lent attack of fever, so that his life was despaired of.
When his illness Avas known, all his friends
flocked from every quarter once more to see him.
But as there were such multitudes, to whom his
labours had been useful, and who all once more
Avished to see their spiritual Father, the physicians
found it necessary to issue an order, to admit no
one. I was amongst the number of those Avho
came : I had imagined that my long attachment
of forty years; that my having been with him
from my boyhood, almost as a servant, a son, and
a friend; that my having nursed him in similar
illnesses, during his imprisonment, would haA-e
excepted me. But he was not in a state to be
consulted, and the friends then about him, knoAV
not Port Royal, nor our relations to each other.
They meant to be faithful, and I too, amongst the
common company of well Avishers, was denied.
This did indeed cut me t© the heart. Often Avhen
I considered the disparity of our years, had I,
though with deep pain, contemplated his death :
but I thought, at least, that I, his pupil, and in
affection as his child, should nurse him in his
sickness, and close my honoured father's eyes.
This then was an unexpected stroke. I mention
it, because I have ever found, that when God sees
fit to try us, he appoints' those circumstances in
our trials, which shall really answ-er the purpose
he intended, of probing our hearts and proving of

460 MEMOIRS OF
a truth, Avhat manner of spirit we are actually of.
Nor have I in the course of a long life, ever found
that seeking to bear trials, by endeavouring to an
ticipate their circumstances ever availed me; or
could be a substitute for a heart truly dedicated to
the Avill of God, and from a genuine love to him,
plastic to any circumstances he may see good to
bring us. The feelings which agonized my heart
during this period, I cannot describe. This how
ever I felt sure of, that so heavy a chastisement
Avould not have been inflicted, but to produce an
equally important blessing. My apprehensions
however proved groundless ; the fever was as
suaged. And as soon as my dear master was bet
ter, he wrote me a most kind letter, which quite
consoled me for my disappointment ; and requested
me to come, and spend a few days with him im
mediately. I did so, and the kind manner in
Avhich he received me, will ne\'er be effaced from
my memory. Although I then little thought, he
had but one single week to live.
On entering the rodiji, my saint-like master
came forAvard with an affectionate smile to em
brace me. I thrcAv myself at his feet, Avhere I had
never thought to have prostrated myself again,
and clasped his knees, to implore a benediction,
but tears choked my utterance. We both Avept,
and he closely embraced me, and held me long in
his arms, exclaiming, as Paul to Timothy, " My
son in the gospel of Christ, and in faithful and
dutiful affection my son !"
On looking back to this visit, so near the conclii-

PORT ROYAL. 461
sion of his life, I voluntarily thought, that in some
measure he might be said to copy his divine Mas
ter, who having loved his own, loved them to the
end. M. de Saci said he Avas deeply grieved they
had in his illness kept him from one so particularly
his own. This sentence at once seemed to overpay
all I had felt. In this last visit it was so delight
ful to see him once more, that I can scarcely re
member distinctly Avhat passed; though I shall
never forget the sweet and holy impression.
And now I must enter upon the painful recital
of his death, at which I was not present.
A few days before that event, a general jubilee
took place ; as though God would open to his ser
vant all the treasures of his grace on earth, before
he took him to behold his glory in heaven. The
jubilee concluded on the last day of 1683, and
M. de Saci expired on the 4th of January, 1684.
On the day preceding (the third) he had, as usual,
performed the daily service in the domestic chapel.
He on that day entered into it, not merely Avith
his usual deep devotion and recollection, but with
such uncommon expression of earnest fervor, that a
person present, whilst he repeated the " Domine non
sum diguus" and the "Agnus Dei," said that his
very countenance, seemed to beam with light, and
joy, and peace.
Like Stephen, he was looking upwards steadfastly
to heaven, beholding Jesus at the right hand of
God; and like him, his face shone as an angel's
with the reflected glory. He seemed as though
he saw him whom he addressed, face to face. Yet

462 MEMOIRS OF
whilst his spirit was filled with this divine fervor,
his soul was in truth expanding her angel wings,
to rise and meet her God. The weather was
intensely cold; and at the conclusion of the ser
vice, no sooner had he passed the threshold of the
chapel, than he fainted. It was a considerable
time before he could be restored. At twelve
o'clock, which was the dinner hour, he however
sufficiently recovered to take his usual seat at table.
He at first indeed appeared very feeble, but he
gradually revived, and before the meal was con
cluded, appeared as well as he had usually been,
since his recovery from the severe fever before
mentioned. An hour after dinner he began, or
more exactly speaking, seemed to slide unpre-
meditatedly into a spiritual discourse, which im
perceptibly became more and more animated ; so
that it seemed to the whole family, who were still
sitting round the fire side, (as was their custom
after dinner,) as though the whole fountains of his
heart and soul were broken up, and poured in one
full tide of deep and holy inspiration and heavenly
eloquence. He had begun on the subject of the
office of the day, concerning which some question
had been addressed to him; but he soon turned
to that of the unsearchable riches and treasures
of Christ; a subject always inexhaustible to him;
and noAV he seemed animated with an almost super
natural impulse. It seemed like a ship, which
setting out from the shore, at first is toAved along
in shallow Avater, till being once launched fiiiriy
in the deep ocean, she spreads her ample canvas ;

PORT ROYAL. 46

o

the breath of Heaven inflates her sails ; the sun
plays on her masts; and she speeds her glorious
and exulting course, as in an ocean of light. So
it Avas this day with M. de Saci, when he once
entered on this subject. It seemed as though a,
view of heavenly glory opened to his soul ; he
seemed transported with holy awe, zeal and love ;
his countenance became illumined, like that of
-a seraph, and an awful and divinely majestic elo
quence flowed from his lips, and overflowed and
penetrated every heart. Did some secret pre
sentiment thus carry him almost beyond the limit
of mortal bounds ? Do the souls of the saints of
God, thus on the confines of this nether world,
inhale a heavenly air, and behold a ray of glory
from heaven's opening gates that we cannot yet
discern ? Does she hear a voice from the heavenly-
Jerusalem she is entering, we cannot hear ? How
ever this may be, it is certain, that for two Avhole
hours he held every heart enAvrapped, every ear
fixed, and every soul entranced, by these, the last
words he was ever, as a minister, to pronounce
amongst men. On concluding, he arose and
quitted the room, leaving his audience penetrated
to the heart. A deep silence of many minutes
ensued. Not one person seemed willing to dese
crate the powerful impression, by breaking the
silence, with any common speech. Till at length,
Madame Hyppolyte, who kept M. de Saci's house,
first broke it, by saying in a tone of deep penetration
these fcAv Avords, " Believe me, every one of you
who hear me ; such a voice as we have now heard

464 MEMOIRS OF
is never uttered amongst men, but from the lips of
one on the A'erge of heavenly glory."
Scarcely had she uttered the words, when she
Avas suddenly summoned to M. de Saci, who had
again swooned. M. de Saci was once more taken
to that bed, from which he never again rose. His
fever was rekindled with redoubled violence.
That night, so eventful to Port Royal, was spent
in trying every remedy which the affection and
skill of his friends and physicians could devise.
But the malignity of the disease baffled all then-
efforts. M. de Saci, Avho felt that the hour was
come when his earthly exile was drawing to its
conclusion, requested to partake of the sacrament.
And with eyes sparkling, not so much with the
excitement of violent fever, as with the super
natural fire of divine grace and love, he adminis
tered it to himself. Then, in a most heart affect
ing prayer, he fervently recommended all his
friends, and all his disciples and spiritual children
to God. All the nuns of Port Royal, and all the
recluses, were mentioned by name. And amongst
them, he kindly did me the honour, I was told,
especially to mention me. Then lying down, he
prepared for death. Tears of love, and gratitude,
and humility, flowed from his eyes, at the thoughts
of his own vileness, and at the greatness of the re
demption of Christ, and the inestimable price of
his precious blood, at which it Avas procured. As
for me, I know it was a most precious and unde
served token, that he should deign to think at
all of me, at such a moment. But it seemed as

PORT ROYAL. 465
though this excellent pas1;or, Avho in all things
sought to follow his blessed Master's steps in life,
Avas also to follow them in his disappearance from
men. And as Jesus was parted from his disciples
on the mount of Olives, blessing them, so did this
his servant quit his spiritual children on earth, in
the act of praying a benediction from the same
Jesus, upon that part of his great flock entrusted
to him, yea even on the most obscure of them, as
for example on myself. Many will no doubt won
der that a man of his eminent celebrity, should in
the very shade and jaws of death, have thought
of or mentioned such an obscure individual ; but I
can myself readily account for it ; for the faithful
pastor treading in the steps of him, Avho is emi
nently the good pastor, yet more tenderly seeks
out the feeble of his flock, and carries the little
ones the more closely in his compassionate
bosom. All M. de Saci's friends were thunderstruck at
his sudden death. A death which seemed no less
a death blow to the cause of Port Royal, than a
loss to friendship. But to no one, perhaps, was
the shock so great as to myself, who had seen him
eight days before in perfect health. There Avas
not one amidst his numerous flock who did not
long to go instantly to Pomponne, once more to
behold him dead, at whose feet they had so long
sat as disciples, while he was liAing. But pru
dence peremptorily forbade this last testimony of
affection. We all knew that the least symptom of
such an intention Avould have immediately sealed
Vol. I. 59

466 MEMOIRS OF
the ruin of Port Royal, and the rigorous imprison
ment of all its friends.
M. de Saci had marked in his Avill, that he
desired to be interred at Port Royal des Champs.
That his body might rest amongst those to whom
he had for so many years filled the office of direc
tor ; and amongst whom his heart had ever dwelt.
It was impossible to avoid passing through Paris,
in translating the body from Pomponne to Port
Royal. Yet the greatest fears were entertained,
both by those well informed of the dispositions of
the court, as w^ell as by the abbess and the nuns,
that it would be stopped by the police officers,
Avere it discovered. Many ladies of distinction,
especially the duchess of Lesdigiueres, had wished
to give M. de Saci a testimonial of respect, by send
ing processions bearing torches to meet the funeral
at the gate of St. Antoine, and to accompany it
through the city to the church of St. Jacques du
Haut-pas; for the corpse was to be privately de
posited there for the night, in order to proceed next
day to Port Royal des Champs, which is distant
eighteen miles from Paris.
Those however who had the management of the
transaction, found it indispensable to avoid all
pubhcity, since it was more than rumoured that
the police were about to issue orders, not to suffer
the body to pass. It was on this account brought
Avith the utmost secrecy to St. Jacques. No infor
mation was afforded but to immediate friends;
and this great and good man, who had been the
means of supplying catholic Christendom with the

PORT ROYAL. 467
Scriptures, and of effecting the conversion of so
many thousands; Avhose eloquence, whose piety,
whose learning, Avhose eminent wisdom, meekness,
and gentleness, were in the praise of all the
churches of Europe; would haA'e been refused a
sepulture by the very city Avhich had been most
eminently blessed by being the scene of his labours ;
had not the zeal and courage of a few faithful
friends, eluded the watchful malice of his perse
cutors. The body was transported in the shade
of dusk, and was privately deposited in St. Jacques;
Avhilst his friends, some of the most eminent men
then in the Avorld, for piety, learning, and rank,
Avere reduced to the necessity of assembling in
various disguises, and skulking through by-streets,
not habited as mourners, to the church where they
undertook to watch all night, to prevent violence
being offered to his remains ; and promising them
selves to accompany them to the grave next day.
They were however scarcely assembled in sad
silence ix)und the coffin, when tidings reached
them, that the vague rumours in circula'tion, and
the fears of the abbess, were but too well founded.
They found that, in truth, the death of its Aictim
put no period to the spirit of persecution ; and that
neither the spiritual bond, nor the close ties of
consanguinity which subsisted between M. de
Saci and the house of Port Royal, would prove
any protection against the brutal violence of their
adversaries. The court party were resolved on
preventing that monastery, from receiving the
sacred deposit which they had promised them-

468 MEMOIRS OF
selves ever to keep amongst them, as a consolation
to their grief, and stimulus to their faith. Infor
mation was received, that it Avas resolved to stop
the body ; and that messengers were sent to Pom
ponne, to discover if the suspected translation was
intended. God however foiled the attempts of the
Avicked, and permitted his handmaids to receive this
innocent consolation.
Intelligence having been received, that orders
were actually issued by the police ; it was instantly
determined to remain no longer in Paris. And
although it was the very depth of January, and
the winter uncommonly severe, and the weather
such as to render it apparently most perilous ; our
friends resolved, though it was then eleven o'clock
at night, to set out, at all hazards, for Port Royal.
M. de Saci's sacred body was immediately placed
in a plain hearse, and they began their hazardous
journey, through deep snows, and Avind driving
full in their faces. In many places the road,
which is at best a by-road, was completely choked
Avith high drifts of snow ; in others it was abso
lutely sheeted with ice, so that no horses could
keep their footing. The roads Avere literally speak
ing impracticable, in any ordinary case ; nor could
they possibly have been traversed, but for the
incredible labours, and strenuous manual exertion,
of the very numerous friends Avho accompanied the
hearse on foot, and whose ardent zeal had pro
vided them with proper implements, and deter
mined them to brave every obstacle in the attempt.
It was a remarkably hard Avinter, and Avith every

PORT ROYAL. 469
precaution, they more than once thought the drifts
never could have had a passage cleared before
day-break. Their difficulties were inconceivable ;
all his friends, however, reckoned as nothing the
fatigue they encountered; and most justly did
they esteem, as one of the highest honours and pri
vileges of their lives, to have the favour to accom
pany to its long home, the sacred remains of this
most faithful and devoted servant of God. As it
happened, the very circumstances of the roads being
deemed impassable, whilst it protracted their
progress, and obliged them to resort to the most
laborious efforts, yet probably prevented their
being met on the road, or stopped. After incre
dible difficulties, through eighteen miles of dreadful
road, in midnight darkness; at about five o'clock
in the morning, the hearse reached the brow of the
steep wooded hill, which immediately overhangs
the monastery of Port Royal.
As soon as ever the torches Avinding down the
steep descent, amongst the leafless trees, and cast
ing a red light upon the snow, announced the
approach of the funeral, it was met by a procession
from the monastery. It was a heart affecting sight,
to see the breathless corpse of this venerable and
aged saint, carried for the last time into that
church, where as a boy, even of six years old, his
devotion had so often edified those older than
himself; where he was consecrated to the priest
hood, and on whose altar, he had offered up his
first sacrifice. At the' great gates of the church,
the coffin was met by an hundred nuns, each of

470 MEMOIRS OF
whom had sat at his feet as her director. Each
held a burning torch, nor could any restrain her
tears, as the corpse was borne into the church,
and deposited in the centre of an illuminated
chapel. I myself, together with a few more of M. de
Saci's friends, who had just received an intima
tion, that the corpse would be deposited for that
night at St. Jacques; was greatly surprised on
reaching that church at seven in the morning,
to find that it had been transported during the
night. We immediately set out on foot ; and with hearts
overwhelmed with grief, followed the long traces
of the hearse, which, with the trampling of ipany
feet, were deeply imprinted in the snow, and ap
parently several hours before. Being at length
arrived at Port Royal, we found his coffin lying in
the church, and every preparation making with all
despatch, for his immediate interment. Such
strong fears still prevailed, that it was resoh'ed
not to wait until the next day, to perform high
mass over him. Every body was gone to hasten
the preparations. So I had all the leisure to stay
alone, and uninterruptedly, by the beloved remains
of my dear and saint-like master, where I forgot
the intense cold and hunger I suffered, having
set out to Paris from St. Mande Avithout any
breakfast, and I had eaten nothing since. After
a little while, one came to ask me to warm myself.
I declined it. Then another urged me to dine,
or at least take some refreshment. This I also

PORT ROYAL. 471
refused. I was near M. de Saci, and near him
for the last time. I could not quit him. My per
severance was however doubly recompensed ; for
Avhilst I was there, a deliberation was carrying on
Avithin the monastery; Avhether they should not
give him an ecclesiastical sepulture, arrayed in
his full sacerdotal vestments. There was only one
obstacle in the way, which was the doubt that
suggested itself, hoAv the face might appear when
uncovered, as he had now been in his coffin six or
seven days. It became necessary to ascertain
this, before this mode of interment was finally de
cided upon. Accordingly, I had not been long
seated at the foot of my beloved master, when the
door communicating with the nuns' choir opened ;
and Madame de Fontperlius entered the church to
preside at this operation. Immediately all the
church doors were closed, and a carpenter ap
proached the coffin with a hammer and other
implements. As he gave the heavy stroke which
Avrenched the fastenings, I felt an awe and bitter
pain at, even from a principle of affection, violat
ing the sacred, and as I had ever held them, the
inviolable rites of sepulture. The lid was removed.
I, his pupil, was the first who interrupted the spon
taneous pause, and passed my hand into the coffin,
to unveil from the dreary mansions of death, a vis
age which had been consigned to its abodes for ever,
and which had already passed so many days there.
As soon as the winding sheet was unfolded, and
the face cloth turned back, that holy, reverend,
and placid countenance appeared once more ; and

472 MEMOIRS OF
in no respect was it altered. The deep peace and
stillness of death, which then reigned there, seemed
but as the peace and tranquillity Avhich grace had
imprinted on it during life. The Avaxen clay
seemed yet to bear the impress with which the
Spirit of God, whose temple it once was, had sealed
it. Every heart and eye was riveted on that re
vered and tranquil countenance, which seemed,
even in its peaceful sleep, to breathe that deep
humility, modesty, moderation, and unction, which
his aspect Avhile living was wont to inspire in every
heart. My eyes, as well as those of all the very
few allowed to be present, seemed as if they could
not be satisfied with gazing on him, whom each
one would have desired ever to see before him ;
and Avhom we had none imagined, Ave should ever
more have seen on earth. Where was that fear
ful awe, so generally inspired by the sight of death ?
But he fell asleep in Jesus, and it seemed, as if a
ray of the glory of that heaven, which had just
opened to receive his immortal spirit, yet lingered
around its late abode. We contemplated him
again and again, and were ready to speak, as
though he were still living, and could still hear us ;
and his disciples felt as if they wished once more
to embrace their well known master, but a secret
reverence withheld them; and warned each heart,
that the blessed spirit, now enrolled amongst the
sons of light and the spirits of just men made perfect,
must henceforth be loved with an affection like
himself, eternal, but freed from mortal frailty and
weakness.

PORT ROYAL. 473
His remains were then arrayed fi)r the last time,
in the sacerdotal vestments. The usual psalms
were sung, and the aspersions and incensings cus
tomary on such occasions were performed. After
Av-hich the folding doors communicating from the
chancel into the nuns' choir, were thrown open,
that he might be carried to the spot, which had
been marked out within its Avails, for his sepul
ture. A spot purposely selected by the nuns, that
the pastor at whose feet they had so often sat,
might repose immediately in their choir. We
carried there his corpse arrayed in his priest's
vestments, and on an open bier, through a long
avenue of holy nuns; above an hundred and
twenty of whom Avere arranged on either side,
each with a burning taper in her hand, to meet
him at the gates. Their eyes, though so long
turned from every earthly object, could not, al
though bathed in tears, avoid fixing themselves
on those sacred remains, which slowiy passed
before each of them. And each tried to retain as
long as possible (in the little pauses we purposely
made) the features of that holy countenance, they
Avere to behold no more. How distinctly do I,
at this distance of time, remember the very least
circumstances of that memorable day. I still
seem to see the long roAv of nuns, on either side,
and the profound respect, marked by the deep
inclinations every one made, as the uncovered bier
passed before her. And when it at last reached
the open grave, how well do I remember the
principal nuns, as they disposed it to descend into
Vol. I. 60

474 MEMOIRS OF
the earth, each reverently bending the knee, as
she touched his hand respectfully with her lips.
Whilst the full choir continued the funeral chant,
Avith a gravity most deeply impressive, and which
I reverence whenever I recal it. For my own
part I was so overcome, that I felt as if my very
heart and soul were buried in the grave with him.
Surely 0 Lord, it Avas a marvellous power of thy
grace, by which thou didst in that day, so rule
the hearts of thine handmaids, as to enable them
Avorthily to show respect to thine highly favoured
serA-ant. There was not one in all that large
assemblage, Avho instead of uttering songs of
praise, would not have willingly indulged a burst
ing heart, in shedding floods of tears. Nor was
one voice hfted up in those noble anthems of
praise, which, had not thine especial grace pre-
A'ailed over nature, would not have been suffocated
in sighing and in sorrow. But they were the
children of grace, and thy grace it was, that
enabled them to mourn their spiritual loss, by
listening rather to the voice of the spirit, than
that of natural affection. Nay, perhaps the very-
depth of their love and reverence for their spiritual
father, helped to restrain their tears, and loosen
their tongues ; that they might honour the funeral
of the departed saint, in a manner worthy the
fulness of faith of him Avhom they mourned.
Their admirable abbess, the Mere Angelique de
St. Jean Arnauld, a Avorthy successor of her
aunt the abbess Marie Angehque, told me, that
" she thought it unworthy of him, to Avhom they

PORT ROYAL. 475
rendered the last honours, to weep his entrance
into the joys of his Lord." I well remember the
next day after the funeral, when I had the honour
of waiting on the abbess, before I returned to St.
Mande ; she left all her affairs in order to sit with
me, and speak to me fully respecting M. de Saci ;
and to request me to draw up a memorial of every
particular my long intimate connection with this
great man, had given me an opportunity of
knowing. But my connection with him was too
near to be able at that time, to speak without
deep sorrow. I expressed my affection to my
dearest master with much grief; when this ad
mirable abbess answered, in a voice grave and
determined, but yet, as I Avell remember, almost
smothered by the violence of the effort she exer
cised over herself ; " My brother, we have noAV
committed to earth, that of our dear father which
was but earthly ; it remains that in our own hearts,
we suffer to pass away on the stream of time,
those feelings which God has appointed only for
time." Such was the conduct of Port Royal on this heavy
stroke, which bereaved them at once of their main
spiritual prop, and temporal counsellor.
Scarcely, however, were Port Royal and its
friends beginning to recover from the stupefaction
with Avhich they had been struck by the sudden
death of M. de Saci, when a second calamity,
equally sudden, and yet more wholly unlooked
for, befel them. They had, in less than twenty
days after, to mourn the only bereavement which

476 MEMOIRS OP
could have been esteemed a yet more heavy
stroke than the one they 'had just experienced.
TAverity days after this loss, the_ public was in
formed of the death of the abbess Angehque de
St. Jean Arnauld, the cousin of M. de Saci; and
Avho, placed at the helm of Port Royal, as the
Avorthy successor of the Meres Angehque and
Agnes, was the hope and refuge of the whole com
munity. Her loss Avas no doubt consequent on that
of M. de Saci. Whilst the heart and will of this
admirable and truly inestimable woman were de
voted Avith an undivided purpose to God, her con
stitution had received a shock in the death of her
director, from which it never recoA^ered.
Outwardly she appeared unaltered; she yielded
to no unavailing expressions of sorrow, nor were
her duties ever interrupted. Yet it soon became
evident, that she who had so courageously been
enabled ten years before to survive the death of
M. d' Andilli, her natural father, would now not sur
vive that of her aged spiritual one. She expired
on the 29th of January, 1684, aged fifty-nine years
and two months, of which she had been professed
forty years and four days.
The reverend Mere Angelique de St. Jean Ar
nauld d'Andilli, was daughter to M. d'Andilli,
and was born on the 25th of November, 1624.
At the early age of six years, her father placed
her in the school of Port Royal, to be educated by
her two aunts, the Meres Angelique and Agnes.
Here, even at this tender age, she appeared under
deep rehgious impressions. When she had been

PORT ROYAL. 477
there about a year, hearing that she had another
little sister just born, and being told they were
then five, she replied, as if she had been on the
eVe of her profession, " You say so because you
count us who are placed in this monastery ; but
remember, Ave desire to have done Avith the things
of this world, and to be no longer reckoned
amongst the people of the Avorld." Even at the
early age of tAvelve years, she was distinguished
by so acute a penetration, and so enlarged a
genius, that the two abbesses often recommended
her to the prayers of their friends, in these terms ;
" Beseech the Lord to bestow upon her a prepara
tion of heart to serve him ; for if she does no good,
she AvUl assuredly do great evil." Accordingly,
she became equally a prodigy of piety as of talent.
She entered the noviciate, at the age of seventeen,
and applied herself with great fervour to fulfil all
her duties. She Avas particularly led to practise
great austerities, which no doubt inured her to the
great hardships she had afterwards to endure, in
the close imprisonment she was afterwards des
tined to experience for the truth. Soon after her
profession, she became mistress of the scholars, and
afterwards sub-prioress, and mistress of the no
vices. In the year 1661, the storm burst upon
Port Royal, during which, as Ave have already
seen, her aunt, the Mere Angelique, departed this
life. Her niece was most tenderly attached to her.
But her faith failed not. Her avocations were not
interrupted, and no complaint escaped her lips;
though no loss could be more sensibly felt. One

478 MEMOIRS OF
day, a nun observing the tears trickling down her
cheeks, as she sought to proceed with tranquilhty
in her occupation, said, " Ah ! my sister, I do not
Avonder you feel our irreparable loss !" The Soeur
Angelique de St. Jean answered, " A Christian
should be ashamed of mourning any loss as irre
parable ; since he possesses God, who can more than
fill the place of any and of every creature !"
The Mere Angelique de St. Jean, Avas the sup
port of the whole house, in the period which suc
ceeded the death of the Mere Angelique. Her
singleness of mind, her Avisdom, her strength of
character, and her talent for business, rendered
her services of the greatest importance. She was
the very soul of the house for the wisdom of her
counsels, the solidity of her replies, and the force
of her writings. In the midst of all the tempests
Avhich shook Port Royal, a truly sublime faith en
abled her to remain in a perfectly steadfast course of
conduct. In 1664, the M. Angelique de St. Jean was
closely imprisoned at the nuns of the Annunciation,
in the quarter of St. Antoine, near Paris, where
she had much to suffer for the sake of the truth ;
being reduced to a complete solitude, and a depri
vation of all spiritual assistance, as before related.
On the 2d of July, 1665, the imprisoned nuns
Avere restored to Port Royal. On the 13th of
May, 1666, her cousin, M. de Saci, Avas sent
to the Bastille. The Mere Angelique de St.
Jean wrote him a letter of congratulation, on
being counted worthy to suffer for Christ's sake.

PORT ROYAL. 479
At the end of 1668, the pacification of Clement
the 9th took place ; the captives were liberated.
On the 20th of February, 1671, the Mere Agnes
expired, and on the 3d of August, 1678, the Mere
Angelique de St. Jean became abbess of Port
Royal. Ten months afterwards, the death of
Madame de Longueville took place; and imme
diately after, the persecution which overwhelmed
Port Royal, burst forth anew. The M. Angelique
de St. Jean Avas animated by the spirit of the M.
Angelique and the M. Agnes; to wliich was
added a brilliancy of talent, and intellectual
powers, peculiarly her own. In nothing did she
appear to partake of the Aveakness of her sex.
Her A-ery superior genius gained her the admira
tion of the first men of the age. The unction and
piety Avhich flowed from her lips, penetrated the
heart, whilst her learning and talents delighted
those Avho either heard her converse, attended her
exhortations as abbess, or Avho read her works.
A profound knowledge of Scripture, a perfect
acquaintance with ecclesiastical history, a familiar
knowledge of the Greek and Latin fathers in their
native tongues, added to her discourses a Aveight,
perhaps never before equalled in any of her sex.
Her works which still edify and delight those
conversant Avith them, are Conferences of Port
Royal, 3 vols. 8vo. ; Misericordes, likewise in 3
vols. Reflections, offered to the nuns, to prepare
them for persecution ; a most deeply experimental
work. Three volumes of her Relations; and
Memories of the life of her aunt, the Mere Ange-

480 MEMOIRS OF
lique. Relations of the lives of many of the nuns
of Port Royal. Many admirably drawn up articles,
in the Necrologe, and 2 vols. 8vo. on the rule of
St. Bennet; all works equally honourable to her
talents and piety. Besides the rare endoAvments
Avliich peculiarly fitted her for her post as an
abbess, she was likewise gifted with much in
formation not common to her sex. She had a
scientific acquaintance with natural philosophy,
Avith medicine and surgery, and with the prin
ciples of musical composition. She also eminently
excelled in modelling in wax, and many pieces of
hers yet remain, as monuments of her very rare ge
nius and skill in this art. The motive Avhich in
duced her to exercise this talent, is worthy of record.
After the revenues of Port Royal were unjustly-
seized, and the nuns were harassed by so many
A-exatious requisitions, that they had scarcely
Avherewith to maintain themselves, this excellent
abbess learnt this art, to enable her without detri
ment to her community, or tier other poor, to
provide for the maintenance of several ladies, who
Avere attached to the cause of the Stuarts, (several
of whom were protestants) and who found them
selves in destitute circumstances i\i France. In
all the Avorks of this excellent and admirable
AA'oman, the same character of deep piety and of
capacious intellect prevailed. They all bear the
stamp of humility and self-abasement, Avithout
meanness ; of ..unshaken firmness, Avithout pride ;
of an exact and tender conscience, Avithout little
ness. Her total absence from the vanity too often

PORT ROYAL. 481
inspired by superior talents, her renunciation of
self-will ; and her profound contempt for all
AVorldly things ; the austerity of her penance, and
unshaken firmness of her mind, caused her to bo
' regarded, even by her enemies, as a prodigy of
piety and talent. One anecdote of this admirable
abbess must not be omitted. The Duke of Luynes,
on his second marriage, made a present of his
seat at Vaumurier, to the monastery of Port Royal
des Champs. It consisted of a noble mansion
house, a spacious park, and productive gardens ;
and exactly joined on to the grounds of Port
Royal. And as it Avas bestowed at the time that
Port Rojal de Paris, the gift of her oAvn family,
and two-thirds of their revenue were so unjustly
Avrested from them, it promised to be truly in
valuable, and to form a large addition to their
income, in a time of most perplexing and dis
tressing necessity. The Dauphin being one da}'
on a hunting expedition near Port Royal, was so
struck with the beauty of the place, that he
determined to ask the king to demand it of the
nuns, for a very handsome remuneration. But
the Mere Angelique de St. Jean, having heard
that the purpose to which he meant to apply it,
was an unworthy one, did not choose for the sake
of any remuneration, to expose the house to be
inhabited by such a person as the Dauphin meant
to place there. She therefore, before the king
made the request known, sent a number of work
men, and had the house completely demolished,
even to the very foundetions; preferring the loss
Vol. L 61

482 MEMOIRS OF
of SO considerable a property, to the connivance at
evil, or to treat the king Avith disrespect by a
refusal. The king having heard of this noble
action, praised it in the highest terms. Such is
the short sketch of this admirable nun, " to
Avhom," say her French biographers, " no praises
can do justice ; and of whom Ave shall say no more,
from an impossibility to speak worthily of her."
We will then refer the reader for a further account,
to Messrs. du Fosse, Fontaine, le Necrologe Memoires
de Port Royal from p. 500 of Vol. 3 ; also the fourth
volume of Vies Edifiantes. We shall simply give a
short sketch of her illness and death, from an eye
Avitness, who writes thus : —
" The Mere Angelique de St. Jean counted as
nothing, the very rare talents Avith which it had
pleased God so abundantly to endow her. And
she delighted to return by a profound humihty,
into that state of self-abasement and obscurity,
from which her talents seemed, always against
her will, calling her. She especially venerated
M. de Saci, who had been her spiritual guide from
her youth upwards. His death Avas the most pain
ful blow that could have befallen her. And as he
remained after so many bereavements, as the last
pillar of their house, so this tremendous catastro
phe was indeed an overw^helming calamity. On
hearing of his decease, she retired to her own
room, and after some time spent alone in prayer,
she resumed her duties with seriousness, but yet
Avithout appearing cast down. When in the hour
of recreation, some of the nuns appeared over-

port royal. 483
whelmed Avith grief, she said, " God has indeed
taken our father to himself! He is noAv beholding
his glory ! Whilst our Lord has called our beloved
father to his vision, his spirit, I think, calls us to
admire the plenitude of wisdom, and of power and
mercy, by which he can raise up instruments on
earth Avhen it-' pleases him, or take them away;
and with equal care, carry on his Avork Avithout
them. He stops or turns the streams of living
Avater at his pleasure ; the spring of his love, mercy
and wisdom, is an abyss, ever equally unfathom
able, and a fountain which ever equally flows."
This thought, and the profound resignation she de
sired to feel for the will of God, prevented one
murmuring expression. She performed all her
duties as before. Nevertheless her health sunk
under this overpowering burden, and it was ob
vious, that like St. Paul, she was in a strait be
tween two, " Longing to depart, and to be with
Christ, which was far better ;" and yet, desirous to
remain for the benefit of her sisters. The tAventy-
fourth of January, which was the day on which she
Avas seized with her mortal illness, she had spent as
usual, having been at matins in the night, and
having occupied herself in her various duties all
the morning. Amongst other occupations, she had
given a peculiarly excellent instruction to the
nuns. She employed the intervening time until
vespers, in visiting the sick. As the abbess went
down from the infirmary to vespers, she necessarily
passed the tomb of M. de Saci, Avhich had only
been closed twelve days before. On this tomb

484 MEMOIRS OF
she for a time prostrated herself, and remained in
prayer ; on rising up, she felt a sudden and violent
pain in her side, as if she had received a heavy
blow. She however went into A^espers, supposing
it might be owing to the constrained posture in which
she had been. But in the midst of the office, she
was seized Avith a shivering fit, and although she
finished the service, her voice faltered so perceptibly
that an apprehension was entertained of what really
followed. The abbess herself, well understood this stroke
as a call to prepare for her removal into the eternal
world. " If I considered myself only," said she
to the prioress, " earnestly should I desire to de
part and to be with Christ ; but the compassion I
feel for this poor little bereft flock, cannot permit
me to be indifferent to the trouble and difficulties
in which it must be involved, by the event of my
death before my triennial expires." Nevertheless,
as she trusted that if God called her to himself,
he would take charge of her community, she only
thought of giving him thanks for the favour she
expected. Her disposition appears by her expres
sions to a sister who wished to take off her veil.
and to help her to go to bed. " My dear sister,"
said she, " let me restore it to God, who gave it
to me to-morrow forty years since. When we
enter into a serious illness, and one from Avhicli in
all probability Ave shall not arise, Ave must begin
by preparing to restore our A'eil to him avIio gave
it." She then said the Avhole of the Te Deum,
although her sisters besought her not, on account

PORT ROYAL. 485
of the shivering and anguish which she suffered.
Seeing the consternation of the community, she
said, " We can more easily submit to God than to
man, because Ave have a full assurance that he does
all well. Let us only Avait his Avill, in the child
like spirit, Dominus est;" then entering the bed
ffoin wiiich she never arose, she added : " Above
all my children, let us never forget to sing the
song of Moses and the lamb, to bless the Lord at
all times, and let his praise be continually in our
mouths." The shivering continued for four hours,
with the most agonizing pain. Before she re
ceived the last sacraments, she wished to beg
forgiveness of the community for all wherein she
might have erred. The prioress perceived it, and
did all in her power to prevent, and to urge the
confessor to prevent her. But she persisted, and
made her excuses in the most humble terms. After
receiving the sacraments, she wished to collect
her thoughts; but the violence of the fever pre
venting it, she desired that the hundred and third
psalm might be read to her. Her lungs then be
came so oppressed, that she no longer spoke, and
her mind began to wander. Nevertheless she
seemed, even in this state, to preserve the same
direction of heart. For the death of a young man
being mentioned in her presence, who had formerly
been at Port Royal, but who had again returned
to the world, she was so overcome with grief, as to
appear for a time suffocated ; but at length recover
ing herself, she exclaimed, " 0, what do you say, 0
terrible and afflicting news !" The nuns in vain

486 MEMOIRS OP
tried to comfort her, thinking she knew not what
she said, as she had never seen this man ; but she
said, " It is his soul that I regret, it is his soul ! 0
my sisters, I am on my death bed ; it is nofw, I
feel the infinite value of the soul !" She often
spoke of him, and always with the same grief.
The day before her death, all remedies being un
availing, she said to the community with her
usual tranquillity, " See, my dear sisters, in hoAv
short a time death can call us away. Do you not
observe hoAV changed is my voice, Avhich I can
scarcely make you understand, and hear the rat
tling in my throat !" Some time after, she requested
that she might not be spoken to concerning any
earthly affair, that she might think of God only.
Her mind being now clear and restored, she felt
pain in seeing the tears and bitter grief of the com
munity. With much effort to speak she said :
" My dear sisters, we must not look to consequen
ces. Your hearts must folloAv me up to the throne
of God, mine must not be drawn down with yours,
to the concerns of earth." She then tried again
to exhort her community, but AA-as unable. The
prioress having assembled a part of the nuns in
the evening, in her room, besought her Avith tears,
as their abbess, t,o give her benediction both to
those present and those absent. Her only ansAver
was hfting up her eyes and hands to heaven, in
the Avords of the Song of Solomon, " O ye daugh
ters of Jerusalem I charge you that ye stir not up,
nor aAvake my beloved till he please, ' which verse
she repeated in Latin. The prioress represented

PORT ROYAL. 487
to her that she spoke for herself only, according to
her longing desire to go to her Lord ; but that her
community besought her to have compassion on
them too, and bestow on them some words of con
solation and instruction. She only ansAvered by
the preceding Avords of the same song, " Lceva
ejus sub capite meo et dextera illius amplex
amplexitur me." She was unable to say more.
Some time after, the prioress seemed stupified
Avith the excess of grief; and Avhen she changed
for death, they seemed not to know what it was,
and inquired of the nurse. The dying abbess
replied : " It is the voice of my beloved, behold he
showeth himself — he showeth himself through the
lattice — he saith unto me. Rise up my fajr one, come
aAvay." The community being again assembled in her
room, they besought her with tears, to give them
her benediction. She accordingly lifted up her
hand to do so, but was unable to speak. She then
opened a psalter, that was presented to her, and
made them a sign to recite the seventy-third psalm,
which seemed beautifully apposite to the situation
of Port Royal at that time ; she soon after fell
asleep in the Lord, without having lost her recol
lection for one single moment. During all that
time, her countenance was almost radiant with the
expression of peace, sweetness, and heavenly joy,
with which her soul seemed enwrapped, and the
same expression after death still remained.
After her decease the M&re du Fargis, her
prioress, was chosen abbess; she appointed as her

488 MEMOIRS OF
prioress, the Mere St. Thecla Racine, aunt to the
celebrated tragedian Racine.
The Mere Angelique de St. Jean, expired on the
29th of January, 1684.
Nor was this overwhelming blow, the conclusion
of the catalogue of disasters, which at this time
overwhelmed Port Royal. M. de Luzanci, the
brother of the Mdre Angelique de St. Jean was at
Pomponne, when his cousin M. de Saci, expired
in his arms. At his death he appeared bereft of
every outward comfort. He however promised
himself some relief, in the correspondence of his
sister, the Mere Angelique de St. Jean. For her,
he had always entertained a peculiar veneration ;
and his fervent piety, and great gentleness, and
self-distrust, made him feel the want of reposing
his tender spirit, on a character of her masculine
strength, and exalted but well matured hohness.
Her letters always seemed to have an instanta
neous and powerful effect over him. Her glowing
eloquence, her pure and holy life, her solid under
standing, her superior force of character, Avere
highly reverenced by him; and he promised
himself some relief, by continually pouring out
his heart to her, in a close correspondence. When
however the totally unexpected news of her dying
state arrived, it was like a thunder clap. He was
so struck, that he remained for a considerable time
motionless; and was even in a stupor, incapable
of speaking or of hearing. At length awaking as
from a trance, he ordered his horse, and with his
utmost speed reached Port Royal, just in time to

PORT ROYAL. 489
receive his sister's last breath. He returned more
dead than alive. It seemed as though his heart
died within him. The fire of love he had cher
ished for these tAVO persons, his only earthly
affections, seemed rekindled Avith redoubled force.
It seemed as if the tempter of the brethren, was
permitted to use M. Luzanci's memory, to bring
back every passage of their lives to his mind, with
the most acute pangs. His body, at all times
Aveak, could not support the conflict. On his re
turn from Port Royal, to M. de Pomponne his
brother, when he entered the room, Avhere as a
child, his sister Angelique had so often been, and
Avhich his spiritual father, M. de Saci, occupied,
he felt as one bereft. The two last props of his
house were gone. He could not speak for some
time ; till looking round at their vacant seats wish
fully, he said, " To whom now shall we go ?"
Then suddenly stretching out his arms towards
heaven, and with an almost supernatural animation
sparkling through his tears, he added, " even to
thee. Lord ! Thou hast the words of eternal life. "
He sat doAvn, but a burning fever immediately
broke out. He was taken to his bed; and wishing
to regulate his affairs, sent to me, (Fontaine
speaks ) to consult Avith me about them. Two
days after, I arrived ; and going to ask how he
was ; and passing by the church of St. Eustache ;
what was my shock, to see his corpse exposed
there on a bier, previously to its removal to Port
Royal des Champs. He died on the 10th of Feb
ruary 1684, aged Gl ; eleven days after his sister.
Vol. L 62

490 MEMOIRS OF
Thus did this excellent brother and sister fohoAV
their spiritual father; nor were they the only
ones who did so. The Soeur de St. Eustoquie de
Flescelles de Bregy, received in the death of M.
de Saci, and of her abbess, her death blow; she
followed them on April the 1st, of the same year.
Nor did her friend the Soeur Magdeleine de St.
Christine Briquet, many years survive them. She
was the pupil of both these estimable persons, even
from infancy ; the particular friend of the Mere
Eustoquie, and, like all the three, distinguished for
her talent as well as her piety. She applied her
self after their death to arrange an edition of M. de
Saci's spiritual letters, and of the works of the
abbess Angelique de St. Jean; which being con
cluded, she expressed that she kncAV her work on
earth Avas done ; and accordingly died, on the 30th
of NoA'ember, 1689, full of faith and good works.
The " Lettres Edifiantes," contain above seventy
letters, written to the community on the death of
these excellent persons. We shall insert two ; one
is from the pen of M. de St. Marthe, and was ad
dressed to the abbess Angelique de St. Jean, on the
death of M. de Saci; the second was written a few-
days after, on the occasion of her OAvn. It is ad
dressed to her sister, the last remaining nun of the
name of Arnauld, then hving at Port Royal.

PORT ROYAL. 491
Letter from Madame St. Marthe to the Rev. Mire
Angelique de St. Jean, on tJie death of M. de Saci.
Feb. 4, 1684.
What an awful and astonishing contrast, my dear
mother, exists between the death of the saints, and
that of those who die in their sins ! The latter in
deed truly suffer death ; since they are at that aAvful
moment, separated for ever from him, who is the
true life. They become victims of the great enemy ;
of the accuser, of him who was a murderer from
the beginning; they are enclosed for ever in the
snares of the father of lies, the arch deceiver ! thev
are irremediably poisoned by the mortal venom of
the insinuating serpent, Avho first deluded mankind ;
they become for ever a prey to that roaring lion,
w^ho goeth about, seeking Avhom he may devour !
They are for ever cast into outer darkness, where
their worm shall never die, nor shall their fire ever
be quenched !
But precious in the sight of the Lord is the death
of his saints ! Their departure from this earth is
the commencement of an heavenly and divine life ;
and by dying here, they rather live more perfectly,
and become eternally and closely united, with God
in Christ. The sinner who dies, dies the death of
the soul. The disciple dies only to that body of
sin and death, Avhich it was the Avhole effort of his
life to vanquish ; and whose complete destruction
he longed for. He dies indeed to this world, and
to all that is in it. But it is a w^orld, from which,
during his mortal life, it Avas his happy choice to

492 MEMOIRS OF
live separated; and which, from his baptismal
VOAVS, he had renounced. They die as to their
mortal and fleshly tabernacle ; but it was . that
body, which was from its frailty the cause of so
many hindrances ; which was such a perpetual
clog, and from whose incumbrance it was their
earnest and daily wish to be delivered. They die
in short, to all which Avas the subject of their fear,
their grief, and their distress. Tears are wiped
away from their eyes, sorroAv and sighing shall be
no more. 0 what an unspeakable gain to them,
is the loss of this mortal life, since in one short
moment, they obtain the sum of all their desires !
What still remained frail, becomes perfected ;
what remained carnal, becomes altogether spi
ritual ; what temptations still beset them, quit
thttir hold! They become at once disengaged
from the adhesion of a thousand weaknesses ; their
bonds are loosed, their earthly incumbrances fall
off, and they enter at once into the perfect liberty
of the children of God ! Jerusalem above is free !
and her freed and happy citizens, are able to exer
cise in a more completely holy and happy manner,
those affections, the seed of which indeed was
sown, but whose growth was impeded by the un-
genial clime of earth ; in short, they are become
the spirits of the just made perfect. They indeed,
on earth, lived as in the presence of God, and
walked before God; being attentive to follow his
light; and his love Avas shed abroad in their
hearts, but noAV they are intimately united to God.
Nothing shaU ever be able to separate them from

PORT ROYAL. 493
him they love! They are penetrated with the
illumination of his glory. The fire of his love
burns within them. Self is, in those redeemed
spirits, no more ! They belong wholly, and without
reserve, to God. Those who are entered upon that
blessed life, are indeed passed from corruption to
incorruption, from mortality to immortality ! They
are a living sacrifice, a living temple, a living
altar, to him who is the living God, the Father
of spirits, the king of saints, eternal, immortal,
and invisible. They have no other will but his
will ; no other life, but in him who is life ; no
other treasure, but him Avho is their exceeding great
reward ; no other happiness, but him who is the
ever blessed ; he is entirely theirs, and they are en
tirely his.
Your greatest consolation, my dear mother, dur
ing the life of M. de Saci, Avas undoubtedlj'- that
of knowing you had in him a true pastor ; one
Avhom God had anointed Avith the spirit of his pro
phets, and Avho having been especially appointed
to the conduct of your house, applied himself Avitli
his whole heart and spirit, not only to his own
personal sanctification, but to advance that of the
flock, over which Christ had appointed him as
overseer. His largeness of heart and of charity seemed, as
far as we can say so of a human being, to corres
pond with the importance of his sacred office.
The souls God had given him lived in his heart.
The desire of their salvation seemed to occupy his
sole attention ; and his heart and hands were con-

494 MEMOIRS OF
tinually lifted up towards heaven in their behalf.
and to offer himself Avith them, a living sacrifice
to God. His desire is now fulfilled ! and the time
of his exile is past ! His journey is accomphshed !
The days of his pilgrimage are over ! His tutelage
and his minority are ended, he has entered upon
his inheritance ! He is now for ever with Christ !
He then saw through a glass darkly, he now sees
face to face ! He beholds for ever the Holy One,
before whom angels bow; and the view of that in
effable plenitude of holiness, perfects his sanctifi
cation. He sees the Saviour Avhom he loved, as
he is, and he is now transformed into his image.
He is now, one heart, one mind, one spirit, with
the great and sovereign high priest of his profession ;
he is one in that blessed community of saints, with
whom there is joy in heaven, over one sinner, that
repents. 0 my dear mother, sorrow Ave must,
Avhilst we remain in the twilight of sense, and the
Aveakness of the flesh ; but let our sorrow be not
uuAvorthy of his fruition, and our anticipation of
heavenly glory ; of the sight and of the assured hope
of that eternal and rapidly advancing bliss, which
shall soon SAvalloAv up all grief, in a flood of joy, and
glory, and praise.
Let us not weep over those saints, who are en
tered into the joy of their Lord ; but rather mourn
over our sins and frailties, who are as orphans left
behind ; and may this sorroAV prove salutary,
through the grace of Christ, in urging us so to
live here below, that we may still continue in
heaven, to groAV in the life we have imperfectly

PORT ROYAL. 495
begun on earth. Such is the example he set us, who
as a servant of the great good shepherd, faithfully-
fed his sheep ; and is now gone before to that
heavenly mansion, Avhere his little flock shall soon
have the favour, one by one, to follow him. Let us
indeed, often, in heart and mind, dwell on the
actions and the remembrance, of that dear and
holy servant of God. The blessed memory of
Avhat God has done for his saints, should quicken
in us a trust and hope, of what he is equally
Avilling to do for us. This is the true and genuine
use of the memory of departed friends. 0 let us
not abuse it. Let their blessed remembrance form
not a tye, to bind the heart doAvn to that portion
of our earthly pilgrimage, Avhich is gone by ; and
to consume the portion yet to come, with fruitless
sorroAV ; but let us urge on our steps, with a holy
speed, soon to overtake our loved companions ;
and be reunited with the blessed friends Avho are
gone before, and who may sAveeten the prospect,
even of the glories of the new Jerusalem ; by
teaching us to glimpse amidst its beams of light,
many an endeared and familiar countenance, to
Avelcome us. Thus, as we grow older, God in
mercy takes one friend after another ; only deso
lating the world Ave are about to leave, to people
for us, Avith dear friends, the heavenly inheritance
Ave are going to enter. Thus in condescension to
our Aveakness, blending natural and spiritual joy.
0 then, my dear mother, rejoice amidst affliction ;
rejoice not only that our names are Avritten with
theirs in the Lamb's book of life ; but rejoice also

496 MEMOIRS OF
that we have so much treasure in hea\-en, in those
saints whom Ave love, and Avho are gone before.
Letter of M. I'Abbe Boileau, on the death of M. de
Saci, and that of the Mere Angelique de St. Jean
Arnauld. « February 4, 1684.
My honoured sister. Blessed be God, the Father
of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the God of
consolation ; who is able abundantly to sustain us
by the supporting staff, CA'en Avhilst he afflicts us
by the chastening rod.
And who indeed » my dear sister, could sustain
us in these tAvo overwhelming and almost simul
taneous calamities; if the Lord himself Avho inflicts
the wound, were not also the good physician,
Avhose divine love and power were able and willing
to heal it?. Both natural affection and reason,
both nature and grace, equally, to the shortness
of human vision, appear to furnish their A^arious
considerations, to enhance the calamity; and
Avhich ever way the bleeding soul turns, so far
from alleviating distress, they each adduce multi
plied grounds for saying, " this wound is fatal !
this breach is irreparable !" But my dear sister,
the just live not by sight, but by faith. It is no
more necessary to the disciple, to see the whole of
his spiritual, than of his temporal course ; he who
is the light of Israel, and who has his dAvelling in
the pillar of a cloud, goes before, and that is

PORT ROYAL. 497
enough. This consideration enables his children
to traverse the bed of that stormy ocean, through
midnight darkness, which shall engulph unbe
lieving hosts, with as much confidence, as the}'
would walk in the open champaign, beneath the
brightest sunbeams. Yes, my dear sister, the
faith by Avhich the just live, finds subjects of
consolation, even in circumstances, Avhich to the
eye of sense present nothing but desolation. We
lose tAVO persons whose eminent piety, whose dis
tinguished talents, whose uncommon force and
vigour of mind, and whom our rare and accumu
lated trials, rendered particularly necessary, and
as it should seem, humanly speaking, absolutely-
indispensable to us. They were our spiritual
guides, our temporal counsellors, our strength,
and our right hand. But what of that? "He,"
says St Augustine, "loses nothing, who possesses
nothing, but in him whom the soul can never lose."
0 let us then rather pray, that the clouds of
earthly frailty and sin, may be dissipated by the
sun of righteousness ; and that our youth may be
renewed like the eagle's, to behold him, and him
only. He who truly, and practically, and livingly
believes in Jesus Christ, dead, and risen again for
his church, can never esteem any as really dead,
but those who are living at a distance from him
who is our true life, who is the source of vivifica-
tion, and also the bread of life, to maintain vitality
in all who have once heard his voice ; and hearing
it, have risen from their graves, and received life,
from a death of trespasses and sins.
Vol. I. 63

498 MEMOIRS OF
No, my dear sister, that faithful minister of
Jesus Christ, over Avliose tomb we have shed so
many tears; that excellent and great mother in
Israel, lamented by so many daughters, are not
dead any more than Lazarus ! They sleep in
j)eace, and they are now enrolled amongst the
spirits of those just made perfect, Avho may be
said not only to live, though they are dead ; but
to live more perfectly because they are dead.
Here beloAv, the sin and misery Avhich cleaves even
to the most faithful, may be said to infuse a tinc
ture of death into the most saintly life. Is it, in
deed. Lord, to be called life, to drag on an existence
here below, panting indeed after thee in spirit, but
impeded by the deadly languor infused by earthly
desires and temptations ? Is it living, to feel con
tinually weighed down by the load of sin and
death, notwithstanding all our efforts to soar to
Avards heaven ? Is it living, to drag about with
us daily, this body of death, which if Ave yield to,
will sink into perdition and everlasting death ?
Does the eagle live, Avhilst he flaps his Avings in
vain, chained doAvn to his perch ? seeking indeed
Avith eagle eye the sun, but condemned to the
darkness of his mew; and fed on dead and corrupt
substances, instead of soaring to heaven his native
element. The children of Babylon may seek, indeed, here
below, objects of attachment; but Avoe to those
Avho are so unhappy as to find them ; as for us,
my sister, never let us forget, that Ave have the
privilege to be children of Jerusalem; the sons

PORT ROYAL. 499
and daughters of the Most High ; let us then suf
fer our captivity on earth Avith patience ; but long
for the moment of our deliverance ; and ever
more may our conversation, flowing from the
abundance o£ our hearts, be where our treasure is,
in heaven !
God forbid then that, we should be inconsolable,
as if we had no hope. Our brothers and our
sisters, the church of the first borii, are now
feasting in the house of their father ! they eat the
bread of life without alloy ! Can Ave wish to see
those blessed spirits of the just made perfect, once
our dear companions here, reduced to feed in this
strange and accursed evil world, upon the husks,
that are the food of swine ? Ah no ! rejoice, holy
and blessed souls, in the abundance of blessings
noAV prepared for you ! Feast on the wine of the
kingdom ] slake your thirst at the fountains of the
Avaters of everlasting life, Avhither the Son is now
leading you ! To you, sighing and sorrow are
fled away ! all tears are wiped away from your
eyes ! The miseries and Avoes of this life are now
as a tale that is gone by ! yet if you, hke the
angels of heaven, minister to those Avho are heirs
of salvation; if you form part of that innumerable
cloud of Avitnesses Avith Avhich Ave are surrounded ;
oh, do not forget us ! Avho are still struggling Avith
those conflicts ; Avhilst the Lamb has already given
you the victory, and encompassed you with sonizs
of deliverance. But no, my sister, never let us
feel Ave have lost them! Those happy souls forget
us not; love is a plant of heavenly groAvth! It is

500 MEMOIRS OF
but an exotic here beloAv, and though implanted,
with every other heavenly seed, by Christ, in the
heart of his redeemed ; never does it grow in full
perfection and maturity, but in the heavens of
which it is a native. Nor can the love of any saints
on earth, be compared with that of redeemed
spirits above. They know, not by faith, but by
sight, the will of heaven, the value of the soul, the
love of Christ, in a way we cannot do. Their charity
is now^ a flame without impurity ; all that ' is
natural and terrestrial i» consumed ; and their
affection burns with a pure flame, kindled in the
flame of divine love. Never then let us grieve,
either for them, or for ourselves. They are in the
full enjoyment of him whom their souls on earth
best loved ; and their love for us is become a purer,
holier and closer love. Whilst they lived upon
earth, we might have feared their fall to the earth.
Now they are secured beyond all possibility of fall.
When Adam was in a state of innocence, God said
to him, " sin not, lest ye die ;" but noAV he says to
fallen man, " die that ye sin not."
Let us then rejoice, my A^ery highly honoured
sister, notwithstanding the oppression of heart,
which nature feels ; again I say unto you, rejoice !
on seeing sin completely destroyed, even to its very
root, in those holy souls, Avho even until their
death, mourned over it, and lamented it, as their
trial and grief., 0 rejoice with them, that God
alone reigns in those, we only loved for God. " 0
death, where is thy sting ! 0 grave, where is thy
victory !"

PORT ROYAL. 501
With respect to ourselves, my dear sister, al
though a thousand reasons render us acutely
sensible of the loss of these two holy persons, so
closely bound to us, by CA^ery tie, both natural and
spiritual; yet let us never forget, that as the self-
existent God needs nobody; so docs the same all-
sufficient God, abundantly supply the place of all
persons, to those who truly love him. Let us not
then look upon their deaths as ari interruption to
spiritual communication. The communion of saints
is the privilege of all citizens of the new Jerusalem.
They are amidst the numbers of the spirits of just
men made perfect ; and they need neither time nor
space, to hear, and to succour us. Perhaps, indeed,
Ave may even feel the influence of their Avisdom, and
love, more forcibly, for this separation ; which can
ohly divide from us that which belonged to the body,
and Avhich has purified them, and rendered them al
together spiritual ; uniting them more closely than
ever to our God. Elijah, on his ascension to heaven,
transmitted to his disciple Elisha, with his mantle, a
double portion of his spirit. Jes.us, in order to unite
the limbs to their living head, poured out upon his
disciples more light and power of the spirit, than
they had possessed during his life ; so do I hope,
my dear sister, that the death of these two persons
we so much regret, may prove to us an abundant
source of watchfulness, grace, and benediction. It
is already a great favour, that it pleases GrOD to send
so many external circumstances in his providence,
to detach us from this life, and to occupy our hearts
and minds with the contemplation of a happy eter-

502 MEMOIRS OF
nity. When Ave remember how contrary are the
movements of the natural heart to those of divine
grace ; we must acknowledge, however difficult to
nature, that it is a blessing, when the external pro
vidence of God almost compels us to obey the sug
gestions of his grace internally. For my own part,
I see no outward means so likely to break the ties
which bind our hearts to this earth, as a separation ;
by its remaining no longer the abode of those blessed
saints, who might have rendered our exile from our
father's house supportable. They have entered their
inheritance, undefiled and incon'uptible ! They are
now inhabitants of mansions in their father's house.
Let us especially, who have taken upon us voats of
renouncing this world; let us examine, whether
there be no danger to us, who neither Ioa'O the world,
nor the things of the world ; lest Ave Should find, in
the society of those blessed saints, Avho are come out
of the world, not merely a lawful consolation, and
help in our season of exile, and our path of pilgrim
age ; but an unsuspecting and lurking temptation to
the heart, to slide .into an attachment and trust in
his creatures, which belong to the Creator only. If
Jesus Christ once came in the flesh, a participant in
our nature, to reveal himself in a way suited to our
frailty, he now dAvells with us by his spirit, and is
to be sought by us, in that heavenly glory, where,
surrounded by ten thousand of his saints, Ave shall
see him as he is, without any danger of losing him.
Pray the God of all consolation, my dear sister, to
penetrate my soul with these truths; and that
every tie loosened on earth, may be the means of

PORT ROYAL. 503
more closely binding me to heaven. May the
Lord Jesus soon come, and take us to himself 0
happy time, when sin, which is the real source of
our misery, shall cease, and the eternal happiness
of perfect holiness shall begin ; when we shall truly
enter that new Jerusalem, of Avhich though admitted
to the rights of citizenship, and obedient to her laAvs,
Ave have never yet seen eye to eye, and are then not
yet fully moulded into the spirit and customs of its
redeemed inhabitants. Yes, my dear and honoured
sister, blessed indeed will be the day, when we drop
this mortal coil ; and when the celestial doors, which
so many of our dear companions have entered, open
to receive us likewise. In that blessed land our
bodies will no longer be subject to death, our souls
to sin, our knowledge to error, or our affections to
disorder. Truly may we say, " the spirit and the
bride say come. May every one that heareth an-
SAver ' come ! Amen ! come Lord Jesus.' "
Beheve me, in our common Lord, Avith very pro
found respect and consideration, . my very highly
honoured sister, your very obedient and very humble
servant, Boileau, Archdeacon of Paris.
Such was the spirit of Port Royal in the midst
of the heaviest temporal affliction and spiritual be
reavements. Tried on the one hand by the rapidly
succeeding losses of their most valuable directors
and friends, amongst whom Avere Arnauld, Tille
mont, Claude Lancelot, St. Marthe, and Fontaine :
and vexed and harassed on the other by perpetual

504 MEMOIRS OF PORT ROYAL.
litigations and encroachments on the part of the ra
pacious nuns of Port Royal de Paris; spoiled by
constantly renewed oppression and injustice on the
part of the court, and the Jesuistical party who in
stigated its measures, the nuns still maintained the
same constancy and fidelity. Many indeed were
called from their weary pilgrimage below to join the
church triumphant above, but the lessening flock
below still remained faithful at its post. Their loins
were girt, and their lamps were trimmed, and they
stood ready against the bridegroom's coming. Thus
affairs continued till the year 1710. At that period
the final destruction of Port Royal was resolved on.
The account of which forms the second part of this
work.

APPENDIX.

MIRACULOUS CURE OF MARGUERITE PERRIER,
PASCAL'S NIECE.
Many persons having expressed a wish, that the evidence respecting
this remarkable Cure, had been given more fully ; I am induced in this
edition, to give two or three of the various relations.
The one which follows, is from the pen of the celebrated Nicole, who
was one of the recluses of Port Royal, and nephew to the Abbess des
Anges Suireau, under whose superiority it took place.
The relation forms a note to the edition of PascaVs " Lettres Provin
ciales," published by Nicole ; with his notes under the feigned name of Wen-
drock. It is translated by M. Joncoux. This account then only includes
the three testimonies of Pascal, Nicole, and M. Joncoux.- — Translator.
" For a considerable period the Jesuits have used every means
to persecute the monastery of Port Royal. Their hatred to this
house, has originated from various causes ; but the principal arose
from that house having been long under the direction of the
Mere Angelique, and the Mere Agnes, sisters of M. Arnauld ; that
four others of his sisters, his mother, and six of his nieces, daugh
ters of the celebrated Arnauld D'Andilly his brother, had there
taken the veil ; and that M. Arnauld himself had for a long time
officiated as priest and confessor, having found it a suitable asylum
in which he could pursue his favourite studies.
The Jesuits during several years, were unremitting in their
endeavours to find new pretexts for accomplishing the ruin of a
house, against which they entertained a most bitter hatred ; and
they were very near attaining their end in the year 1656, by the
tempest they then raised against this monastery. The evils
they had already brought upon them, appeared to have the effect
of exciting their virulence still more. Their principal object was
to deprive them of a great number of young ladies, whom they
educated; among whom were many of very high rank. The
Vol 64 (505)

506 APPENDIX.
storm was increasing from day to day ; and they were constantly
tliroatened with approaching, ruin. The nuns in the eve of seeing
themselves deprived of their dear pupils by the malignity of their
enemies, and having no hope from human aid, held fast their
confidence in God, and were not confounded in their expecta
tion. God who is sometimes pleased to succour his servants, in
an extraordinary manner, when bowed down by oppression and
injustice; gave to this aflBicted house a stupendous mark of his
protection. One among their pupils, was a M. Marguerite Perrier, a
niece of M. Pascal, who had been afflicted during three years
and a half with an cegylops (fistule lacrymale). The first surgeon
in Paris, had in vain attempted her cure; the inveteracy of the
disorder baffled the skill of the physicians ; the sanieuse discharge
had rendered the bones of the nose carious ; and the matter from
her eye had found a passage through the palate ; so that part ran
over her face, and part was discharging in her throat. This
child was become so frightfully disfigured, as to be an object of
horror to every one; and the infection of her disease so over
coming, that those who were most capable of witnessing such scenes,
were scarcely able to support it.
The surgeons were now resolved to apply the last remedy, the
actual cautery ; and had apprized her father, to be present at this
mournful operation ; when God by a wonderful prodigy instan
taneously relieved this young girl, (then ten years old) from her
disease, and her family from their fears for her life.
There lived at Paris at that time, a M. de la Poterie ; a priest
equally illustrious from his birth, his piety, and his character.
His singular veneration for the reliques of .saints had induced
him to collect so many of the most approved in his chapel, that
no private individual in Europe possessed an equal number ; he
had recently acquired a thorn from the crown of our Savioui-.
Several monasteries of nuns at Paris, had prevailed on him to
send it to them, that they might pay it due honour and respect.
The nuns of Port Royal hearing of it, and being touched with the
same sentiments of piety, intreated him to grant them the same
favour, which he willingly acceded to. They received this pre
cious relique on Friday, 24th of March, 1656 ; they exhibited it
immediately to the veneration of the whole community, and the

APPENDIX. 507
nuns each in her order went to kiss it. M. Perrier having ap
proached it in her turn ; the nun who had the care of her, and
to whom she seemed more horrible and disfigured than usual, felt
touched with compassion for her, and told her to touch her eye
with the holy thorn. The child obeyed without thinking of any
thing more than to do as she was bid : but what must appear in
credible, in that very moment she was entirely cured. The pas
sage made by the ulcer in her palate was at once closed ; the bone
which had been carious was restored to its primitive state ; in fact
there remained not the slightest trace of a disease which had been
so frightful and alarming. Soon after, the physicians and sur
geons, who had seen h'er under the disease, were sent for. They
could hardly believe the testimony of their eyes; they could
hardly recognize their patient, among the other boarders, so entire
and perfect was the cure.
The physicians and surgeons, struck with so wonderful a cure,
which the nuns had kept secret, considered themselves obliged
to proclaim it ; the news soon spread over Paris, and crowds of
people were seen moving towards the monastery, to verify the
fact. I was then at Paris, and as I applied sometimes to the
study of mathematics as a relief from more severe studies, I
had formed an intimacy with M. Pascal, whose knowledge of that
science, is allowed by all the mathematicians of Europe. He
was the uncle of the young lady; and an unimpeachable wit
ness of this miracle. I went like many others to Port Royal, and
asked to see this child ; being very glad to be referred to M.
Pascal's testimony, who was a man worthy of the most implicit
credit, and to that of the physicians and surgeons, and to be
convinced myself, by my own observation, of the reality of her cure.
Finally, to remove all possibility of doubts, the authority of the
church* confirmed the miracle ; it was examined with the most
scrupulous exactness, by the Grand Vicaire of the Archbishop of
Paris, assisted by several Doctors of the Sorbonne ; they declared
by their sentence, of the 22d of October, 1656, that this cure
was supernatural, and a miracle of the omnipotence of God. Les
Provinciales, avec les notes de WendrocJe, Vol. 4, pp. 321-326.
Leyden, 1761.
* The very same party who had the decree already signed to suppress
Port Royal.

508 APPENDIX.
EXTRACT FROM THE LIFE OF THE ABBESS DES ANGES SUIREAU,
UNDER WHOSE ABBACY THE CURE TOOK PLACE.
On the Monday of the third week in Lent, of the year 1656,
certain intelligence was received, that a council would be held, to
determine on the dispersion of the nuns of Port Royal ; of whom
a list had been seen in the Queen's closet.
This assertion, the truth of which could not be doubted, filled
Port Royal with alarm ; the Abbess felt this stroke acutely, and
offered the sacrifice of her prayers, to avert the anger of God.
She retired therefore to her chamber; and said to the sister Can
dide, " my child, we must give up everything, and apply ourselves
solely to move the mercy of God, for unless he pity us, this bouse
is lost; they are about to hold a council, to determine on our dis
persion, and that is certain ; to avert this evil, we must implore
the mercy of God, day and night ; to that end I go to pass three
days and nights in constant prayer ; I shall spend the days in the
tribune before the holy sacrament ; I warn you of it, that you
may not be troubled, and may not interfere to prevent me. Dis
patch quickly whatever you have to do ; and pray to God all the
time you are able, to obtain his mercy."
She began therefore on the Tuesday, to be in continual prayer ;
and only desisted to take her repast, and then return; and this
continued till nine at night, when the sister Candide made her go
to bed ; but as soon as the sister Candide left her, she arose and
passed a part of the night in prayer.
On the morrow, M. Tardieu came to Port Royal, and told my
late sister Madeleine des Anges,- (de Druy) that M. de la Poterie
possessed a holy thorn that he had shown to all the communities
of the district (Fauxbourg) and if she was willing, she would
bring it the next day to Port Royal. My sister Madeleine des
Anges, went to find the Mere des Anges, at the tribune, and told
her what M. Tardieu had said. The M^re Anges desired her to
thank M. de la Poterie, and M. Tardieu ; saying " we were not in
circumstances to be amused by the sight of a relique ; that wo
could only think of prayer to God, and of humbling ourselves bo-
fore him." Jly sister Madeleine des Anges, a little mortified,
made no reply, but told it to the Jlere Agnes; who said, "since
the M^re des Anges did not fully approve, it should not be done •

APPENDIX, 509
that it was very trae we were not in circumstances to allow of dis
sipation;" on which the sister Madeleine replied, "but my mo
ther, if it were brought in Friday, to be exposed at the prayer of
the passion, that would cause no distraction ?" The Mere Agn^s
approved of the proposal, nevertheless, that it should only be
passed at the hour of prayer, that no one might stop before it ; and
then it should be immediately returned to Mile. Tardieu. My sis
ter Madeleine des Anges, gladly wrote to M. de la Poterie, to in-
treat him to send the holy relique on the following Friday. Mean
while, the Mere was engaged in earnest prayer both by day and
night, which the sister Candide having reported to the Mere Agnes ;
she replied, " alas, my sister, we have great need of prayer," for
it was expected from day to day the council would be held to deter
mine the extinction of their house and the dispersion of the nuns.
At last, at the end of three days occupied in prayer by the Mere
des Anges ; the holy thorn was brought and exposed at the prayers
of the passion, at which hour Mile. Marguerite Perrier, niece of
M. Pascal, was miraculously cured ; as is well known, by the touch
of that holy relique.* The noise this event occasioned, is well
known ; and that it suspended the persecution, then on the point
of overwhelming Port Royal. The Mere des Anges, rendered to
God thanksgivings, corresponding to the earnest and continued
prayers she had offered up to implore his merey, and avert his
anger, when it threatened to overwhelm us. — Life of La Mere
Marie des Anges Suireau, Abbess of Matdjuisson, and of Port
Royal. Part 11, p. 497.

CURE OF MARGUERITE PERRIER,
EXTRACTED FROM BESOGNE's "MEMOIRES DE PORT ROYAL."
Whilst men were thus railing against Port Royal, God de
clared himself in its favour, by a great number of miracles, many
of which were attested and confirmed by juridical authorities.
The first of these, was that wrought upon Mile. Perrier, daughter
of M. Perrier, Counsellor at the Court of Aids, at Clermont in
Aubergne; niece of the celebrated M. Pascal, and boarder at
Pert Koyal in Paris. She was then between ten and eleven
* She was then ten years old.

510 APPENDIX.
years of age. From three years and a half old, her left eye was
consumed by a lachrymal fistula, about the size of a filbert; the
malignant and purulent humour of which had decayed the bone
of the nose, and that of the palate, and fell into the mouth.
This humour was so foetid and offensive, that they were ob
liged to separate her from the other boarders. They wished to
apply the cautery to it, in order to prevent the disease from
spreading further ; and they had written to her father in Provence,
requesting him to come to be present at the operation. But a
nun having had compassion for this child, made her kiss a holy
thorn of the Saviour's crown, which they then had in the house.
It had been deposited there, not long since, by an ecclesiastic of
quality and piety, named M. de la Poterie, senior brother of the
Counsellors of State, and great uncle of the Meres Arnauld, to
whom he was related. The young patient was suddenly Kealed,
and when the surgeon came to perform the operation, on the day
which had been appointed for the purpose, he was in the utmost
amazement, to see that the diseased eye no longer existed, and
that it was replaced by another as healthy as the right eye. The
nose, the palate and the mouth, were found restored to their
natural state, without having left the least trace, that there had
ever been any disease. The surgeon in going out, met the physi
cian, who came to the house, and related to him the miracle, but
added, he must not report it on account of the state of the con
vent's affairs. He took a violent fever at the end of a few days,
and when taken with the third fit, he thought that GoD pun
ished him, perhaps, for his faint-heartedness, upon the subject of
the miracle. The fever left him, and he began to publish the
miracle with a loud voice. This miracle after having been
affirmed by six physicians; M. Bonoard, the first physician to
the king; the two Mess. Renaudot; M. Hamon, and two others;
and by five surgeons, Cresse, Dalence, Guillard, Meriard, and
Lelarge; it was published by a mandate of the Grand Vicar of
.(Cardinal de Retz; who enjoined a holy-day at Port Royal, for
thanksgiving. The festival was celebrated with great solem
nity. They instituted the office of the holy Crown of Thorns,
although this was St. Simon's and St. Jude's day. The nuns
sang the principal vespers, part of the night ; the young lady
assisting therein among the Novices. The Grand Vicar came to

APPENDIX. 511
Port Royal the next day, to celebrate the grand mass. Clothed
with his vestments, he went accompanied with many officers, to
take the shrine for relics to the nuns' grate ; it was laid on a
small altar, and carried upon a little tabernacle which they had had
made for the purpose. The shrine for relics was carried under a
canopy, and during the journey, two acolytes, continually per
fumed it with frankincense. The grand mass was celebrated
with great pomp. The church was filled with persons who
crowded to see the young lady upon whom the miracle had been
performed ; she was placed near the grate, kneeling upon two high
cushions, in order that she might be high enough to be seen from
without. All the nuns communicated at the mass, after which
they sang the Te Doum, and the officiating priest, gave the relic to
the people to kiss.
¦ The court believed the miracle, and the Cardinal Mazarine was
the first to solicit the Grand Vicar of Paris to make a publication
of it. m\. very remarkable circumstance was, that this Grand
Vicar, who had received orders to make a visitation to Port Royal,
the miracle having happened unexpectedly, he made, contrary
to his intention ; the proceedings to verify the miracle. M.
Pascal, uncle of the little Perrier, was so struck by the event, that
he caused her to write down all her thoughts upon the miracle,
which are printed, and her sister the nun, who is the holy sister
Euphemia, who when quite young had such a great talent for
poetry, composed a French poem containing more than two
hundred verses upon this miraculous cure : it is found in the duo
decimo collection of pieces of Port Royal, printed in 1740. The
father and mother of the young lady have in consequence estab
lished for ever and ever in the Cathedral of Clermont (where is
seen an inscription which preserves the remembrance of the
miracle) a mass in music, which is still sung there on the 24th of
March. We must not forget the late testimony which has been
given to the mu-acle of Port Royal, Pope Benedict XIII. having
quoted it in his homilies which he has had printed, and in which
he proves that miracles have not ceased in the church. After this
cure, and the feast which was celebrated in honour of it, they gave
the relic to M. de la Poterie, who placed it again in the chapel.
As he found himself a little disturbed by the concourse, which was
so great at his house in consequence of the zeal which this

512 APPENDIX.
miracle had excited in the public towards the holy thorn, and
that henceforth he did not perform any miracle, since he belonged
neither to the Carmelites, nor the Ursulines, in whose hands the
relic had been for some time, he believed that it would be better
to remove it for ever to Port Royal, as it appeared that it was
there that God wished it to be. It was no sooner replaced than
miracles were renewed and multiplied. The shrine for relics is
still there to this day > every Friday morning it is exposed in the
church, and on other days they show it to those who request to
see it. The picture of the miracle is also in the church. — Besogne s
Historic de TAhbaye de Port Royal. Vol 1, pp. 364-369.

account of THE CURE OP M. PERRIER, BY NICHOLAS FONTAINE,
ONE OF THE RECLUSES OF POET ROYAL.
There were at Port Royal, two daughters of M. Perrier of
Clermont, brother in-law of M. Pascal. One of these young
ladies, had for more than four years a very bad eye, vrith a
lachrymal fistula; which suppurated, and sent from it corruption
of so foetid a nature that the most mortified of these holy sisters,
had sometimes much difficulty to bear it. They well saw what
they must do to this distemper ; but dared not think of it ; only
the idea of a button of fire, in a part so tender, and upon so deli
cate a young lady, made every one tremble. They continually
deferred the operation, but at last were obliged by necessity to have
recourse to extreme means. M. Dalence, with Bienaise, said, there
was no time to lose ; notwithstanding they did not wish to do
anything in so iinportant an affair, unless M. Perrier, (father of
the young lady) were on the spot to witness the operation. They
sent for him, and begged him to make haste. As soon as he
was arrived, the day was fixed, which was the one following the
reception of the holy thorn. The young lady on this holiday,
whilst worshipping the precious relic, like the others in her turn,
1 felt something, and as soon as she had left this ceremony she
said to the nun, her confidant, who had the care of her eye, that
it was healed. The surprised sister, looking at her eye, went im
mediately to mention what she had just heard and seen ; the
mother abbess requested her silence respecting the circumstance,
so that nothing might be divulged. The next day, which was
the one chosen for so painful an operation, M. Perrier came

APPENDIX. 513
with the physicians and surgeons as was usual. They entered
sorrowfully into the young lady's chamber, and prepared all the
necessary instruments for the operation, which wounded the
heart of the father, before they touched the eye of his daughter •
the mothers were there, but said not a word. All being ready'
they drew the curtain, M. Dalence and the others only seeing
the patient as yet obscurely, they gave her a short and very un
necessary sermon upon patience, ordered some pillows to be
brought, and the surgeons putting themselves into a posture for
the operation; the young lady sat up in bed. M. Dalence look
ing at her eye, and seeing nothing the matter with it, was
strangely surprised. He still gazed and beheld her father, and all
those who were present, without saying anything, being so much
frightened. At last, after having closely examined the eye, which
he had seen entirely corrupted only the day preceding ; which
was now so perfectly cured, that they had some difficulty to dis
cern which of the two had been diseased. " Ah !" exclaimed he,
" what do I see there ! My God, you do not wish me to gain my
livelihood. The diseases of this house are like a bird upon the
wing which flies away when one thinks to touch it. Sir, Sir,"
said he to M. Bienaise, "there is here something divine ; we must
bear witness to the truth which we clearly see with our eyes."
M. Bienaise was as much astonished as M. Dalence, and believinff
the miracle as he did, said that they must be prudent in bearing
witness of this in public. " This house is ruined" said he : " as
much as you please," replied M. Dalence, " we must bear witness of
the works of an all powerful God."
Hardly bad they left the monastery than the fame of this miracle
spread forthwith all over Paris. Many persons were eager to see
the young lady's eye, and notwithstanding all the care they had
taken, could not discern which of the two eyes had been diseased.
One cannot express M. Perrier's joy, to whom every body gave
the compliment of his having wrought the miracle upon his
daughter. — Memoires de Nicholas Fontaine, Tom. 2, article, St.
Epines, Pascal, and Perrier.

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