created the Oratory. He was not the enemy of the Company of Jesus, since
he himself had labored to procure its return to France. His work was
none the less opposed to that of Saint Ignatius. "In our body," said
a century later an Oratorist who was faithful to the spirit of his
congregation, "liberty consists....in wishing and in doing freely what
one ought, _quasi liberi_." This _quasi liberi_ is exactly the opposite
of the famous _perinde ac cadaver_. We may understand sufficiently why,
in the course of time, the Jesuits showed little sympathy for the
Oratorists. The work of Pierre de Bérulle must have appeared to them a
perilous compromise between Catholic orthodoxy and the detested
principles of the Reformation: what good is it to renew, at every moment
of one's life, one's adhesion to a rule to which it is more simple and
more sure to enchain one's self once for all? Why wish to give one's
self at any cost the haughty joy of feeling and exercising one's
liberty? And what is this annihilation which allows the will to reassert
itself incessantly, vivacious and active? The Jesuits, therefore, were
not surprised to see the Oratory threatened by the Jansenist contagion.
We might be tempted to say, employing a vocabulary which is too modern,
that the spirit of the Oratory was, from its inception, a liberal
spirit. Let us rather say: It was a _Cartesian_ spirit. Pierre de
Bérulle loved and admired Descartes and urged him to publish his
writings. The greatest of disciples of Descartes, Malebranche, was an
Oratorist.... A Jesuit would not have failed to call our attention also
to the fact that here is displayed the imprudence of Pierre de
Bérulle and of his successors; for from _methodical doubt_ came all the
rationalism of the eighteenth century....
Let us return to Juilly.
On the walls of the masters' refectory hangs a long series of portraits:
they are those of the Generals Superior of the Oratory and of some
illustrious Oratorists. The most beautiful is that of Malebranche:
this long, meager face witnesses the candid and simple soul of
the metaphysician, who saw "all in God." Other paintings are less
attractive. But they are all precious for the history of the Oratory and
of Juilly.... Let us stop before some of these images.
Father de Condren. "God had rendered him," said Saint Chantai, "capable
of instructing angels." His features are impressed with infinite
gentleness; but the height of his forehead and the veiled splendor of
his glance reveal an unconquerable tenacity, and thanks to this contrast
the whole face assumes a strange delicacy.
Pierre de Bérulle died at the age of fifty-four, overcome by fatigue;
his labor had been immense; he had created and guided his congregation,
founded seminaries,'' delivered sermons, written books, guided
consciences, and he had been mixed up in affairs of state. It was Father
de Condren who succeeded him in the office of Superior General. He gave
to the Oratory its permanent constitution and founded Juilly.
With Father de Condren, the Oratory abandoned the path which its founder
had traced for it. It was less occupied in forming the clergy and
instituting seminaries than in giving instruction to lay youth. The
original purpose of the congregation was thereafter followed and
achieved by M. Olier and the priests of Saint Sulpice. The wishes of
Louis XIII were not averse to this change, for which in any case Father
de Condren had no dislike; he had taste and talent for teaching. The
ancient abbey of Juilly was thus transformed into a model college called
the Royal Academy (1638). The King authorized the institution to add the
arms of France to the arms of the Oratory.
Father de Condren himself prepared the new regulations for study and
discipline of the young Academy. These regulations were a veritable
reform in French education,--a durable and profound reform, for the
programs of the University in the nineteenth century were drawn up in
accordance with the principles of the Oratory.
At that period the Jesuits were masters of education and instruction.
They considered as the foundation of all studies a grammatical knowledge
of the dead languages, and gave little attention to history and the
exact sciences. They had instituted that classical education which is so
appropriate to the very genius of our nation that its ruin would
perhaps be the downfall of our language, our taste and our literature.
Nevertheless, their method in certain respects was narrow and
antiquated: they excluded the history and the language of France from a
college training.
The work of the Oratorists was in a certain measure to Frenchify and
modernize the instruction of the Jesuits. They remained faithful to
classic antiquity. A year before his death, Father de Condren said to
Thomassin that he did not desire to leave this world until he had once
more read the entire works of Cicero. However, the Ratio Studiorum, at
Juilly, introduced great novelties in the college course. The masters
were required to address the youths in their mother tongue and to put in
their hands Latin grammars written in French. From that time they began
by learning the rules of French orthography. Latin became obligatory
only from the fourth class on. The Catechism was given in Latin only in
the second class. History lessons were always given in French. In the
study of Latin, without abandoning the use of themes, translations were
preferred. Greek was taught in the same way, but its knowledge was not
pushed as far, A special chair of history was instituted. The history
of France was given first place, and became the object of a three-year
course. The private library of the pupils contained principally books on
ancient and modern history. There were also geography lessons. Finally,
in this Cartesian house, mathematics and physics naturally received
great honor.
They also taught drawing, music, horsemanship, fencing and dancing.
But comedies and ballets, which the Jesuits allowed their pupils, were
replaced at Juilly by the sessions of a sort of literary Academy where
the most advanced pupils imitated the French Academy.
Richelieu, who had so profound and just an instinct for the interest of
France in all directions, could not be indifferent to the enterprise of
Father de Condren. He understood that the Oratorists were associating
themselves with his great work, gave their methods "applause such as
one could scarcely believe," and, when he founded a college in his natal
town of Richelieu, laid out the regulations and the program in imitation
of those which were in use at Juilly.
Sainte-Beuve has done honor to the little schools of Port-Royal for
this great revolution in teaching: "It is indeed," he says, "to these
gentlemen of Port-Royal that the honor is due of having put education in
accord with the literary progress which the French Academy accomplished
about the same time, and for having first introduced the regularity and
elegance of French into the current of learned studies. To get rid of
pedantry without ruining solidity, might have been their motto.... So, a
great innovation! To teach children to read in French, and to choose
in French the words which stood for the objects with which they were
already acquainted and of which they knew the meaning: this was the
point of departure of Port-Royal...." [6]
[Illustration: 0137]
A historian of Juilly (M. Charles Hamel) has observed that the lower
schools were opened only four years after the foundation of Juilly, and
that we must restore to Father de Condren the glory of having been the
first "to get rid of pedantry without ruining solidity," and to cause
French to be spoken in the schools of France. [7]
_Father Bourgoing_. This third superior was a harsh and absolute
master. He was also a rather rough man of business and one who was not
embarrassed by an excess of power. He imposed the authority of the rules
in all possible ways. His conduct had a tinge of superb vehemence which
contrasted strongly with the modesty and gentleness of his predecessors.
The Jansenist heresy was commencing to hover around the Oratory. Father
Bourgoing drew back those who were straying, with a rough and heavy
crook. He was, besides, as Cardinal Perraud says, in _L'Oratoire de
France,_ "the living model of the virtues which he desired that others
should practice." [8] He inflicted terrible penances. We behold him to
his very last day "shorten his sleep in spite of his need; endure the
rigors of cold despite his advanced years; continue his fasts in spite
of his labors; finally afflict his body by all sorts of austerities
without considering his bodily infirmities." Thus Bossuet expressed
himself in his funeral oration for Father Bourgoing, one of the least
celebrated, but one of the most magnificent, that he composed. We have
only to read it to know the men and the spirit of the Oratory in the
seventeenth century.
_Father de Sainte-Marthe_. This man seems to have been a student, full
of virtue, good sense and good fellowship, but a man who found himself
very much at a loss in the midst of vexations. And it was exactly at
the period of his government that the tempests were unloosed upon the
Oratory. Jansenism had entered the house. Fathers Quesnel and Du Guet
were expelled from the community. But these punishments did not satisfy
the Archbishop of Paris, M. de Harlay, who wished to govern the Oratory
with a strong hand. In the midst of these griefs and intrigues the
unfortunate Father de Sainte-Marthe exonerated himself, proclaimed his
submission, preached conciliation, sought to ward off the animosity
of the Archbishop and the King, defended his congregation against the
assaults of heresy, and went away in exile from province to province,
until the day came when it was necessary for him to resign his
office.... The more we look at the portrait of Father de Sainte-Marthe,
the more we pity this good priest, who was evidently born to live in fair
weather.
_Father de la Tour_. One of the most pleasing portraits in the refectory
of Juilly, full of grace and malice. Saint-Simon has also drawn a
portrait of Father de la Tour and the painter has added nothing to the
sketch of the writer. "He was tall of stature, well built, agreeable but
imposing of countenance, well known for his pliant but firm mind,
adroit but strong in his sermons, in the way he led in gay and amusing
conversation without departing from the character which he bore,
excelling by a spirit of wisdom, conduct and government, and held in the
greatest consideration."
*****
We have arrived at the threshold of the eighteenth century. Before
going farther, let us evoke once more the remembrance of two illustrious
guests of whom the old house was proud.
They still show at Juilly the room of Bossuet. It is lined with very
simple paneling and has an alcove. The furnishings are in the style of
the First Empire. It is here that Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, often slept
in the course of his pastoral visits, for Juilly was situated in his
diocese. He preached in the village chapel and presided at the exercises
of the Academy. On August 6, 1696, he wrote to his nephew, Abbé Bossuet:
"I came here to listen to a thesis which was dedicated to me. There are
here a number of worthy people, and the flower of the Oratory...."
The other "great man," whose memory has been preserved at Juilly is Jean
de La Fontaine.
He was scarcely twenty years old when a canon of Soissons, named
Héricart, lent him some religious books. The reading of these inflamed
him with great devotion and he believed that he was called to the
ecclesiastical state. He departed for Paris and entered the institution
at the Oratory on April 27, 1641. This was his first distraction.
A few weeks later his masters sent him to Juilly, under Father de
Vemeuil, who was to prepare him for ordination. La Fontaine read Marot
and looked out of the window. Now, as his room overlooked the farmyard,
he amused himself every day by watching the hens pick up their living.
To get the sympathy of the hen-keeper, he let down by a cord his cap
full of bread crumbs.
Father Bourgoing, then superior of the congregation, was not the man to
sympathize with the tastes and crotchets of Jean de La Fontaine; he sent
him back to Paris, to the seminary of Saint-Magloire. Then one fine day,
the young man went away as he had come, leaving behind him his brother,
Claude de La Fontaine, who, taking his example seriously, had also
entered the Oratory. His stay at Juilly does not seem to have left a
very deep trace in its memory. But he had at least furnished the future
students of the college with a very fine subject for Latin verses.
It is well known that Canon Héricart, as he had not been able to make
a priest of his friend, later decided to marry him to one of his
relatives. La Fontaine went to the marriage as he had gone to the
Oratory; he escaped from it in the same way.
[Illustration: 0143]
The fate of the Oratory of France was less glorious in the eighteenth
century than it had been in the seventeenth: the theological quarrels
which broke out as a result of the Bull _Unigenitus_ divided and
enfeebled the congregation. But the renown of Juilly did not suffer
from this, and the college founded by Father de Condren prospered. The
buildings of the old monastery were reconstructed and enlarged. The
methods of instruction remained the same. As to discipline, it is
said to have been quite paternal, and was exercised by reprimands or
affectionate chidings rather than by punishments. At Juilly, however, as
in all colleges, the children continued to be whipped.
In 1762, the Jesuits were expelled from France and their properties
sold. This was apparently a great advantage for the Oratory: the closing
of the colleges of the Company of Jesus made it the master of education.
But the thoughtful Oratorists did not fall into this illusion. "It is
the destruction of our congregation," said Father de la Valette at that
time; he understood that this brutal blow touched the Church itself,
even if some doubted this and others were unwilling to admit it.
Besides, the succession of the Jesuits was too heavy a burden to be
undertaken. The Oratory was not sufficiently numerous suddenly to take
charge of so many houses; it found it necessary to associate with itself
a great number of "lay brothers," whose vocation was doubtful; these
young "regents" were generally found to be unprepared to undergo the
constraints of a religious rule. This was being discovered when the
Revolution broke out.
An old student of Juilly, Antoine Vincent Arnault, a tragic poet, author
of _Marius à Miniurne, Lucrèce, Cincinnatus_, etc., whom Napoleon wished
to have as collaborator in writing a tragedy and who was the predecessor
of Scribe in the French Academy, left some interesting memoirs entitled
_Souvenirs d'un sexagénaire_. [9] He was born in 1766 and entered Juilly
in 1776. He has told us of his college years, "the eight un-happiest
years of his life." Thanks to him, we know the existence which was the
rule at Juilly from 1780 to 1784, and what professors had charge of the
instruction. The picture seems to me to be worth redrawing, now that we
know the architecture and the history of the school.
The superior of the house at that time was Father Petit. "A skilled
administrator, a prudent director, a mentality without prejudice or
illusions, more of a philosopher than he perhaps believed himself to be,
indulgent and malevolent at once, he guided this great house with
good words, and maintained admirable order in it for thirty years....
Religious, but not fanatical, he did not forget that he was director of
a boarding school and not of a seminary, and that the children who were
confided to him were to live in the world: so he was especially
anxious that they should be turned into worthy men: this was his own
expression."
In truth, this "admirable order" was sometimes troubled. The collegians
of 1780 played their parts: they wrote little verses and little
libels against their masters, became enthusiastic about the American
Revolution, and played at uprisings. The wisdom and moderation of Father
Petit did not always succeed in calming the revolutionary effervescence
of these youths. The wind which commenced to blow across France blew
hard even in the high monastic corridors of Juilly.
The middle classroom was the most turbulent and the promptest to revolt
against iniquity. One day these "middles" decided to hang their prefect
in effigy. The victim got angry, shut off recreation and ordered the
children to return to the schoolroom. Instantly the candles went out;
dictionaries, candlesticks, writing desks, became so many projectiles
which rained upon the prefect's back; struck down by a copy of the
Gradus, the pedant fled. The class then built barricades and lit a
bonfire, into which they threw the ferule, the mortarboard and the
scholarship record which the enemy had left upon the field of battle.
They refused to listen to overtures of peace, and remained deaf to the
warnings of the Superior, although they were in the habit of respecting
them.
From the viewpoint of a man who later went through several revolutions,
Arnault here makes this judicious remark: "Whoever may be the
individuals of which it is composed, the mob always obeys the same
principles. The breath of a child in a glass of water produces the same
effects as the blast of the hurricane upon the ocean."
It became necessary to turn the siege into a blockade. On the next day,
vanquished by hunger, the scholars surrendered. They were promised a
general amnesty. But, once in possession, the besiegers violated the
treaty. "Then," adds Arnault, "I understood what politics was; I saw
that it was not always in accord with the morality which we were so
eloquently advised to respect as the equal of religion." And this was
doubtless the reason why there were so many prefects of the Empire among
the former pupils of Juilly!
Father Petit was not the only Oratorist of whom Arnault handed down
a good report. Father Viel, the translator of _Télémaque_ into Latin
verse, showed so much justice and goodness in the college that the
students always arranged to rebel while he was traveling, thus showing
how much they respected him. Father Dotteville, the translator of
Sallust and of Tacitus, built at Juilly a charming retreat where
he cultivated literature and flowers. Father Prioleau, who taught
philosophy, knew how to make all work lovable, even the study of
Aristotle's Categories. Father Mandar, who later became superior of the
college, was famous as a preacher--he was compared to Massillon--and as
a poet--he was compared to Gresset. His lively muse, fertile in songs,
rose even to descriptive poetry. Father Mandar wrote a poem called the
Chartreuse; for he was sensitive to the beauties of nature and Jean
Jacques had sought his company.... These remained, even to the end of
their life, faithful to their vocation. Others failed in this, and owed
their great celebrity neither to translations nor to the practice
of oratorical virtues. Juilly was a nursery of Revolutionists and of
Conventionals.
One day--science was still honored in this Cartesian college--it was
decided to give the pupils a scientific recreation. Under the direction
of their professor of physics, they built a fire balloon of paper, upon
which a prefect of studies who indulged in fugitive verse wrote this
quatrain of his own composition:
We have grown too old for soap bubbles;
In changing balloons we change pleasures.
If this carried our first homage to King Lotus,
The winds would blow it to the goal of our desires.
We do not know if the fire balloon came down in the park of Versailles.
But we do know the names of the physicist and the poet of Juilly.
The physicist was Father Fouché, and the poet was Father Billaud
(Billaud-Varennes). Arnault remarks in this connection: "Ten years
afterward, they showed themselves less gracious toward the monarch."
Father Billaud, good Father Billaud, as he was called at Juilly, was a
young man of twenty-one years. He was the son of a lawyer of La Rochelle
who had neither fortune nor clients. He had scarcely left college
when he abducted a young girl and then became a member of a troupe of
comedians. He was a failure on the stage and returned to La Rochelle.
There he put on the stage a satirical comedy: _La Femme comme il n'y en
a plus_, in which he defamed all the women of his town. It was hissed
off the boards and he had to flee to Paris. As he was penniless,
he entered the Oratory; and, as the Oratory needed regents for its
colleges, they sent him to Juilly as prefect of studies. His pupils
loved his good fellowship. But his superiors had very quickly seen what
was under the mask. "Billaud--To judge by the way in which he reads
Latin, he does not know it very well. Has he brains? I have not had
sufficient time to find out. But he has a high opinion of himself, and
I regard him as only a worldly man, clothed in the habit of the Oratory,
coolly regular and honest, who has tried hard not to compromise himself
in the last few? months, for when he first came here his behavior was
not of the best. Though he may be judicious in his conduct, I do not
think that he is suited to the Oratory, because of his age, of what he
has been, and of what he is." Such was the judgment passed upon him by
his superior, for the Superior General of the congregation, in 1784.
Shortly afterward it was learned that Father Billaud had offered
a tragedy to the comedian Larive: he was expelled.... We know what
followed: his entry of the bar at Paris, his marriage to the natural
daughter of a farmer-general, his friendship with Marat and Robespierre,
his complicity in the massacres of September, his ferocities and
cowardices, his turnabout on the ninth of Thermidor, his banishment to
Guiana, his escape, his death in San Domingo. He ended his career as a
teacher of parrots.
Was good Father Billaud of Juilly a hypocrite? Did he already
dissimulate under the appearance of cold regularity the wild passions
of the Jacobin of '93.... I prefer the explanation of Arnault who,
decidedly, does not lack judgment: "Father Billaud, who later became so
frightfully famous under the name of Billaud-Varennes, also appeared to
be a very good man at that time, and perhaps he was so; perhaps he would
even have been so all his life, if he had remained a private citizen,
if the events which provoked the development of his atrocious policy
and the application of his frightful theories had never presented
themselves. I would prefer to believe that morally, as physically, we
all carry in ourselves the germs of more than one grave malady, from
which we seem to be exempt as long as we do not meet the circumstance
which is capable of provoking the explosion." Father Fouché, professor
of physics, was a year older than Father Billaud. He also passed at
Juilly as a good fellow, and interested his pupils by showing them
spectacular physical experiments. He, however, did not enter the Oratory
from necessity or caprice. He was brought up by the Oratorists of
Nantes, and had come to the institution at Paris with the intention
of devoting himself to the teaching of science. He had no bent for
theology, but was fond of studying Horace, Tacitus and Euclid's
Commentaries. He was soon to abandon Euclid; but he did not forget the
examples of perfect wickedness which were presented to him by Tacitus,
and he served the Terror, the Directory and Napoleon with the cold
infamy of a freedman; as for Horace, he was never faithless to him, for
he had a taste for gardens and for friendship.
He was regent at Vendôme, then at Juilly, then at Arras, where he made
the acquaintance of Robespierre. He was prefect of studies at Nantes
when the Revolution threw him into public life.
[Illustration: 0153]