Every lover of letters has heard of this learned society, which
contributed so greatly to establish in France a taste for just
reasoning, simplicity of style, and philosophical method. Their "Logic,
or the Art of Thinking," for its lucid, accurate, and diversified
matter, is still an admirable work; notwithstanding the writers had to
emancipate themselves from the barbarism of the scholastic logic. It was
the conjoint labour of Arnauld and Nicolle. Europe has benefited by the
labours of these learned men: but not many have attended to the origin
and dissolution of this literary society.
In the year 1637, Le Maitre, a celebrated advocate, resigned the bar,
and the honour of being _Conseiller d'Etat_, which his uncommon merit
had obtained him, though then only twenty-eight years of age. His
brother, De Sericourt, who had followed the military profession, quitted
it at the same time. Consecrating themselves to the service of religion,
they retired into a small house near _the Port-Royal_ of Paris, where
they were joined by their brothers De Sacy, De St. Elme, and De Valmont.
Arnauld, one of their most illustrious associates, was induced to enter
into the Jansenist controversy, and then it was that they encountered
the powerful persecution of the Jesuits. Constrained to remove from that
spot, they fixed their residence at a few leagues from Paris, and called
it _Port-Royal des Champs_.[40]
These illustrious recluses were joined by many distinguished persons who
gave up their parks and houses to be appropriated to their schools; and
this community was called the _Society of Port-Royal_.
Here were no rules, no vows, no constitution, and no cells formed.
Prayer and study, and manual labour, were their only occupations. They
applied themselves to the education of youth, and raised up little
academies in the neighbourhood, where the members of Port-Royal, the
most illustrious names of literary France, presided. None considered his
birth entitled him to any exemption from their public offices, relieving
the poor and attending on the sick, and employing themselves in their
farms and gardens; they were carpenters, ploughmen, gardeners, and
vine-dressers, as if they had practised nothing else; they studied
physic, and surgery, and law; in truth, it seems that, from religious
motives, these learned men attempted to form a community of primitive
Christianity.
The Duchess of Longueville, once a political chief, sacrificed her
ambition on the altar of Port-Royal, enlarged the monastic inclosure
with spacious gardens and orchards, built a noble house, and often
retreated to its seclusion. The learned D'Andilly, the translator of
Josephus, after his studious hours, resorted to the cultivation of
fruit-trees; and the fruit of Port-Royal became celebrated for its size
and flavour. Presents were sent to the Queen-Mother of France, Anne of
Austria, and Cardinal Mazarin, who used to call it "fruit béni." It
appears that "families of rank, affluence, and piety, who did not wish
entirely to give up their avocations in the world, built themselves
country-houses in the valley of Port-Royal, in order to enjoy the
society of its religious and literary inhabitants."
In the solitudes of Port-Royal _Racine_ received his education; and, on
his death-bed, desired to be buried in its cemetery, at the feet of his
master Hamon. Arnauld, persecuted, and dying in a foreign country, still
cast his lingering looks on this beloved retreat, and left the society
his heart, which was there inurned.
The Duchess of Longueville, a princess of the blood-royal, was, during
her life, the powerful patroness of these solitary and religious men:
but her death, in 1679, was the fatal stroke which dispersed them for
ever.
The envy and the fears of the Jesuits, and their rancour against
Arnauld, who with such ability had exposed their designs, occasioned the
destruction of the Port-Royal Society. _Exinanite, exinanite usque ad
fundamentum in ea!_--"Annihilate it, annihilate it, to its very
foundations!" Such are the terms of the Jesuitic decree. The Jesuits had
long called the little schools of Port-Royal the hot-beds of heresy. The
Jesuits obtained by their intrigues an order from government to dissolve
that virtuous society. They razed the buildings, and ploughed up the
very foundation; they exhausted their hatred even on the stones, and
profaned even the sanctuary of the dead; the corpses were torn out of
their graves, and dogs were suffered to contend for the rags of their
shrouds. The memory of that asylum of innocence and learning was still
kept alive by those who collected the engravings representing the place
by Mademoiselle Hortemels. The police, under Jesuitic influence, at
length seized on the plates in the cabinet of the fair artist.--Caustic
was the retort courteous which Arnauld gave the Jesuits--"I do not fear
your _pen_, but its _knife_."
These were men whom the love of retirement had united to cultivate
literature, in the midst of solitude, of peace, and of piety. Alike
occupied on sacred, as on profane writers, their writings fixed the
French language. The example of these solitaries shows how retirement is
favourable to penetrate into the sanctuary of the Muses.
An interesting anecdote is related of Arnauld on the occasion of the
dissolution of this society. The dispersion of these great men, and
their young scholars, was lamented by every one but their enemies. Many
persons of the highest rank participated in their sorrows. The excellent
Arnauld, in that moment, was as closely pursued as if he had been a
felon.
It was then the Duchess of Longueville concealed Arnauld in an obscure
lodging, who assumed the dress of a layman, wearing a sword and
full-bottomed wig. Arnauld was attacked by a fever, and in the course of
conversation with his physician, he inquired after news. "They talk of a
new book of the Port-Royal," replied the doctor, "ascribed to Arnauld or
to Sacy; but I do not believe it comes from Sacy; he does not write so
well."--"How, sir!" exclaimed the philosopher, forgetting his sword and
wig; "believe me, my nephew writes better than I do."--The physician
eyed his patient with amazement--he hastened to the duchess, and told
her, "The malady of the gentleman you sent me to is not very serious,
provided you do not suffer him to see any one, and insist on his holding
his tongue." The duchess, alarmed, immediately had Arnauld conveyed to
her palace. She concealed him in an apartment, and persisted to attend
him herself.--"Ask," she said, "what you want of the servant, but it
shall be myself who shall bring it to you."
How honourable is it to the female character, that, in many similar
occurrences, their fortitude has proved to be equal to their
sensibility! But the Duchess of Longueville contemplated in Arnauld a
model of human fortitude which martyrs never excelled. His remarkable
reply to Nicolle, when they were hunted from place to place, should
never be forgotten: Arnauld wished Nicolle to assist him in a new work,
when 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
whole of the Arnauld family were the most extraordinary instance of that
hereditary character, which is continued through certain families: here
it was a sublime, and, perhaps, singular union of learning with
religion. The Arnaulds, Sacy, Pascal, Tillemont, with other illustrious
names, to whom literary Europe will owe perpetual obligations, combined
the life of the monastery with that of the library.