The abbey underwent the usual history of such institutions. Distinguished at first by the strictness of its discipline and the piety of its inmates, it became gradually corrupted with increasing wealth, till, in the end of the sixteenth century, it had grown notorious for gross and scandalous abuses. The revenues were squandered in luxury; the nuns did what they liked; and the extravagances and dissipations of the world were repeated amidst the solitudes which had been consecrated to devotion. But at length its revival arose out of one of the most obvious abuses connected with it. The patronage of the institution, like that of others, had been distributed without any regard to the fitness of the occupants, even to girls of immature age. In this manner the abbey of Port Royal accidentally fell to the lot of one who was destined by her ardent piety to breathe a new life into it, and by her indomitable and lofty genius to give it an undying reputation.
Jacqueline Marie Arnauld—better known by her official name, La Mère Angélique—was appointed abbess of Port Royal when she was only eight years of age. She was descended from a distinguished family belonging originally to the old noblesse of Provence, but page 83which had migrated to Auvergne and settled there. Of vigorous healthiness, both mental and physical, the Arnaulds had already acquired a merited position and name in the annals of France. In the beginning of the sixteenth century it found its way to Paris in the person of Antoine Arnauld, Seigneur de la Mothe, the grandfather of the heroine of Port Royal. M. de la Mothe, as he was commonly called, was endowed with the energetic will, and with more than the usual talents, of his family. He was specially known as Procureur-général to Catherine de Médicis; but, as he himself said, he wore “a soldier’s coat as well as a lawyer’s robe.” He was a Huguenot, and nearly perished in the Bartholomew massacre. He had eight sons, every one of whom more or less achieved distinction in