Cardinal Pierre de Bérulle

Cardinal Pierre de Bérulle was:

• the first founder and superior general of the congregation of the priests of the Oratory.
• a sincere friend of Descartes

Upon Descartes’ return from Friesland, he was struck by illness at the altar while saying mass on October 2, 1629, in the Hôtel du Bouchage.

He was carried to a bed hastily prepared, where he expired on the spot, only 55 years old. His virtue had always given him a great aversion to jobs with some rank of distinction and honors attached to them.

He had refused the most considerable prelatures of the kingdom, which had been offered to him. He had worked with great zeal to re-establish the union between the Queen Mother Marie de Médicis and King Louis XIII, her son. This eagerness that he had shown for the peace of the royal family had not been very agreeable to Cardinal de Richelieu, who, to make him know it, had found a way to cause him some small sorrow at the court.

Cardinal de Bérulle (according to the account that Sieur Ferrier gave to Mr. Descartes), being at Fontainebleau two or three days before his death, and having noticed that the king had not looked at him with a good eye, had returned on the spot to Paris with a seizure, to which the accident of his death was attributed.

This gave rise to certain jesters among those who lived in the fashion of the century, to say that “Mr. the Cardinal de Bérulle would not be canonized, because he had not died in grace.” Cardinal de Richelieu, having profited from his benefices, and particularly from the abbey of Marmoutier, no longer found difficulties in reconciling himself with his memory. He had founded the congregation of the Oratory in the year 1611, and the institute had been approved and confirmed two years later by Pope Paul V. Finally, he had been elevated to the cardinalate in the year 1627 by Pope Urban VIII.

Descartes had always had a lot of veneration for his merit, a lot of deference for his advice.

He considered him after God as the principal author of his designs and of his retreat outside of his country: and he had the satisfaction after his death of finding among his disciples, I mean the priests of the Oratory, in whose hands he could entrust the direction of his conscience during the whole time of his stay in Holland.

Death had done another wrong to the public a little before by taking away the famous Gaspar Bartolin, a philosopher and physician from Denmark, to whom we are indebted for a part of the knowledge that has been acquired in this century for medicine, and particularly for anatomy. The course of his life had not been long enough to give him time to perfect himself in his profession, having died in the month of July towards the middle of his 45th year.

But this lack was advantageously repaired by the writings and the experiences of his learned children Thomas, and Gaspar; of “several other skilled physicians of these last times”; and particularly by the care that Mr. Descartes took to give some increase to medicine, the science of which had not yet appeared to be happily enough cultivated until then.

He had no sooner established himself in Amsterdam than, unable to forget the end of his philosophy, which was none other than the utility of the human race, he resolved to make a serious study of medicine, and to apply himself particularly to anatomy and chemistry. He had imagined that nothing was more capable of producing the temporal happiness of this world than a happy union of medicine with mathematics. But before being able to contribute to the relief of the labors of man, and to the multiplication of the conveniences of life by mechanics, he judged that it was necessary to seek the means to guarantee the human body from all the evils that can disturb its health, and take away its strength to work.

It is fair to hear him himself give the account of his projects on this subject. “Having acquired,” he says, **“some general notions concerning physics, and beginning to test them in various particular difficulties, I have noticed how far they can lead, and how much they differ from the principles that have been used until now. They have shown me that it is possible to reach knowledge very useful to life; and that instead of this speculative philosophy that is taught in schools, one can find a practical one, by which knowing the force and the actions of fire, of water, of air, of the stars, of the heavens, and of all the other bodies that surround us, as distinctly as we know the various trades of our artisans, we could employ them in the same way for all the uses for which they are proper, and thus make ourselves as masters and possessors of nature. This is what would be desirable not only for the invention of an infinity of artifices which would make us enjoy without any pain the fruits of the earth and all the conveniences that are found there; but mainly still for the preservation of health, which is undoubtedly the first good, and the foundation of all the other goods of this life. For the mind itself depends so much on the temperament and on the disposition of the organs of the body, that if it is possible to find some means which commonly makes men wiser and more skillful than they have been until now, I believe that it is in medicine that one must seek it. It is true that that which is now in use contains few things of which the utility is very considerable: but I am sure without any design to despise it, that there is no one even among those who make a profession of it, who does not admit that all that one knows there is almost nothing compared to what remains to be known.

One could exempt oneself from an infinity of diseases both of the body and of the mind, and perhaps even from the weakening of old age, if one had enough knowledge of their causes, and of all the remedies with which nature has provided us. Now in the design that I have to employ all my life in the search for a science so necessary, I have met a path which makes me hope to find it infallibly by following it, unless the shortness of life or the lack of experiences put obstacles there. I have believed that there was no better remedy against these two impediments, than to communicate in good faith to the public the little that I would have found, and at the same time to invite good minds to make their efforts to go still beyond, by contributing each according to his power to the experiences that would have to be made. These would be seconded by others who would come after them, and who would begin where the preceding ones would have ended: and thus joining the lives and the works of several, we would all go together much farther than each one in particular could do.”**

It was therefore in this persuasion that he wanted to begin the execution of his designs by the study of anatomy, to which he devoted the whole winter that he spent in Amsterdam. He testifies to Father Mersenne that the ardor he had for this knowledge made him go almost every day to a butcher’s to see him kill animals, and that from there he had the parts of these animals that he wanted to anatomize more at leisure brought to his lodging. He did the same very often in all the other places where he was since; not “believing that there was anything shameful for him, or anything unworthy of his condition in a practice that was very innocent in itself, and which could become very useful in its effects.” Also he mocked the reproaches of some ill-formed minds among his envious people, who, pretending to amuse themselves at the expense of his reputation, had tried to make it a crime for him, and accused him “of going through the villages to see pigs killed” although the fact was absolutely false as regards the villages. It must be admitted that he read little then, and that he wrote even less. He did not neglect however to see what Vesalius, and some other authors of the most experienced had written on anatomy. But he instructed himself in a much surer way by dissecting animals of different species himself: and he discovered by his own experience many things more particular than those that all these authors have reported in their books. He continued for several years in this exercise, diversifying nevertheless his occupations with other studies. His exactitude went so far in the examination of the smallest parts of the body of the animal, that not a single physician by profession could boast of having paid closer attention than he. He assured Father Mersenne that after ten or eleven years of research that he had made in anatomy, he had not found any thing so small that it seemed, of which he did not believe he could explain in particular the formation by natural causes, just as he explained that of a grain of salt where of a small star of snow in his meteors. But after an infinite number of experiences and an assiduity of so many years for this kind of study, he did not have the vanity to believe himself still capable of curing only a fever. This long work had produced in him only a knowledge of the animal in general, which is not at all subject to fever. This is what obliged him in the sequel to apply himself more particularly to the study of man who is subject to it.

He joined the study of chemistry to that of anatomy at the end of 1629.

He learned every day something that he did not find in books.

But before “getting down to the search for diseases and remedies, he wanted to know if there was a way to find a medicine that was founded on infallible demonstrations.”

Father Mersenne told Descartes at the start of 1630 that he was afflicted with an erysipelas.

In this study of medicine, just as when he was studying physics and metaphysics, he thought more of instructing himself than making himself known to the public.

He told his friends that he would leave France to write.

He promised last summer to Father Mersenne a treatise on meteors on the subject of the phenomenon of parhelions.

He regretted these promises as he didn’t want to publish.

He protested to him that notwithstanding the promise he had made to write, he would never execute the design, without the fear of passing for a man who would not have been able to succeed.

Descartes

I fear reputation more than I want it as it always reduces my freedom and leisure. I have liberty and leisure now. I put such a high price on them. No monarch can buy them from me. I can finish the small treatise that I have begun. But I do not want it to be known. I work on it very slowly, because I take much more pleasure in instructing myself, than in putting in writing the little that I know.

I spend most of my time instructing myself that I never get to write my treatise except by constraint, and to acquit myself of the resolution that I have taken to put it in a state to send it to you at the beginning of the year 1633, if God preserves my life until then. I determine the time for you to oblige me more, and so that you can make reproaches to me if I fail. You will undoubtedly be astonished that I take such a long term to write a discourse that will be so short, that I imagine one can read it in one afternoon. The reason is, that I take more care to learn what is necessary for the conduct of my life, to which it is much more important for me to apply myself, than to amuse myself by publishing the little that I have learned. What if you find it strange that I have not continued some other treatises that I had started being in Paris, I will tell you the reason for it.

It is that while I was working on it, I acquired a little more knowledge than I had had at the beginning: and wanting to accommodate myself according to this increase of knowledge, I was forced to make a new project a little bigger than the first. In the same way that if someone having started a building for his residence, acquired however riches that he had not hoped for; and changing his condition in such a way that his started building was too small for him, one would not blame him for seeing him start another building more suitable for his fortune.

While Descartes was thus arranging the foundations of his new philosophy, that of Aristotle which was taught with brilliance in the university of Leiden lost one of its best supports by the death of François Burgersdick, who had lived in the reputation of a skilled man, and who had passed for one of the most enlightened and the least stubborn of the Peripatetics of his century.

Burgersdick who had always had a high esteem for the genius of Aristotle, had never believed him praiseworthy for having affected to write with obscurity: and he only found him excusable on the word of Themistius his disciple, who protested that this great master had never had the intention of writing for the public.

He was annoyed with most of his interpreters, without even excepting Saint Thomas and Scot, for having made him still more obscure and more embarrassed, by making him speak according to their sense under the pretext of clarifying him. He had enough courage to undertake to do better than those who had preceded him, and to carry the remedy to the source of the evil: and although it is not sure to stick to the report of those who claim that he succeeded, one cannot deny that his writings are today among the most esteemed among the works of this sect.

When it was a question of choosing a successor for the chair of philosophy, they cast their eyes on Sieur Reneri, the friend of Mr. Descartes and Mr. Gassendi, as on the person most capable of filling the place of the deceased, and of supporting the reputation of the university of Leiden which was one of the most flourishing in Europe. This famous academy was then at the highest point of its glory. Never had it been composed of so many learned professors, and never have so many been seen there at once since that time.

The four professors in theology were Jean Polyander de Mets, André Rivet de Saint-Maixant in Poitou, Antoine Walaeus or de Wale de Gand, and Antoine Thysius d’Anvers, all famous by their writings. The two regents or rectors of the two theological colleges were Festus Hommius, and Daniel Colonius. One can join Louis de Dieu, although he was only a minister. The most famous professors in law since Bronchorstius died nearly two years before, were Pierre Cunaeus and Corneille Swanemburg, of whom we have the works.

Othon Heurnius and Adolphus Vorstius taught with brilliance in the faculty of medicine. But above all that of the arts, although weakened by the death of Gilbert Zacchée, a Scottish professor in physics who died the previous year, by that of Willebrord Snellius, a professor in mathematics, and by the retreat of J Meursius, a professor in Greek language, did not fail to sustain itself with a lot of dignity by means of Daniel Heinsius, a professor in politics and history, librarian and secretary of the university; of Jacques Golius, a professor of Oriental languages and mathematics; of Gerard Jean Vossius, a professor in eloquence and chronology; of Gaspar Barlaeus, a professor in eloquence and philosophy; and “of François Schooten or Schotenius, a professor of practical mathematics in vulgar language.” Several of these learned professors have been since friends of Descartes; and particularly Rivet who was from his country; Golius who was of his age; and Schooten of whom we will have occasion to speak; besides the illustrious Mr. de Saumaise, who only came to Leiden two years later to receive the quality of honorary professor, which Scaliger had carried before him.

Reneri esteemed himself very honored to be able to become the colleague of so many skilled people, who all assured him of their favor and their benevolence. The curators of the university made the conditions of this job so advantageous, that they had obliged him to reject all the proposals of various other useful and honorable commitments that had been made to him in the interval of the vacancy of the chair.

But seeing that the election of a professor was dragging on, and fearing that these delays would serve to strengthen the intrigues of his competitors, he preferred to the hopes of an uncertain advantage the present condition of a tutorship of three children that was presented to him in Leiden, with much greater appointments than were those of the chair that was being sought for him. What finished determining him to this job, was the promise that the parents of the children made to him in writing of an honest pension which was to run from the day he would leave their children, and which was to make him live in rest the rest of his days.

This new commitment made in the month of December moved Reneri away from the vicinity of Mr. Descartes, by obliging him to leave Amsterdam to go to Leiden at the beginning of the following year. But he changed nothing to the conduct of his particular studies of philosophy, of which he wanted Mr. Descartes to be the adviser and the director. As for the studies of his pupils, he preferred to address himself to Mr. Gassendi, who got involved in belles-lettres more than Mr. Descartes, and who had passed by the profession of humanities. He wrote to him from Leiden on January 6: and after having informed him of his new fortune, he asked him for his opinion on the method he judged the best to advance the children in their studies, and asked him to decide on the three that he proposed to him, namely whether it is more appropriate 1 “to make them read or translate a lot; 2 to make them learn a lot by heart; 3 to make them write or compose a lot, which is called doing themes in the language of the colleges?” Mr. Gassendi satisfied him a month later by a a full answer, where he tried to persuade him of the utility there is to join together these three ways of studying, by regulating them with discretion on the capacity of the minds of the children.

He did not forget to congratulate him on the lifelong pension which would give him time to philosophize at his ease, by freeing him from the worries that are accustomed to troubling those who are obliged to work to live. But above all he consoled him for having missed the professor’s chair, on the fact that the philosophy that is taught in schools is usually only a philosophy of the theater, whose apparatus consists only in ostentation, while the true philosophy finds refuge under the roof of some individuals, who try to retain it, and to cultivate it in the shade and in silence.