Antoine Arnauld was the last of the twenty children born to the great parliamentary orator and Catherine Marion his wife, of whom we have already spoken. His nephews, Le Maitre and De Saci, were so near his own age, that they were accustomed to call him familiarly _le petit oncle_. Early consecrated to theological studies by the influence of St Cyran and his mother, he espoused zealously the Augustinian doctrines. A splendid prospect seemed opening before him, had he chosen to enter the Church and pursue an ecclesiastical career in the ordinary manner. But while thirsting for theological distinction, he had scruples about his vocation to the holy office. He overcame his scruples so far as to become a priest; but not only would he not accept the benefices placed within his reach by powerful friends—he insisted on resigning such as he held. He even disposed of his patrimony for the benefit of Port Royal, preserving only as much as would provide him with the bare necessaries of life. He became a doctor in 1641, and already, in 1643, the interest of the whole theological world was aroused by his treatise, ‘Of Frequent Communion.’ The aim of this treatise, as of all Arnauld’s writings, was anti-Jesuitical. He set forth, backed by the authority of “Fathers, Popes, and Councils,” the necessity of spiritual preparation for the Holy Communion, in opposition to the formula which had been boldly advanced by more than one Jesuit teacher, that “the more we are devoid of divine grace, the more ought we to seek Jesus Christ in the Eucharist.” The commotion made by the publication shows how grave was the need for it. On the one hand it was warmly welcomed, many pious bishops and doctors testifying approbation of its contents; on the other hand it was violently assailed. The Jesuit pulpits resounded with abuse of it and of its author. All Paris was disturbed by the noise which it made. “There must be a snake in the grass somewhere,” it was wittily remarked, “for the Jesuits were never so excited when only the glory of God was at stake.” The learned Petavius, and even the Prince de Condé, did not disdain to mingle in the combat. For a time Arnauld seemed to triumph, but finally the influence of Rome was brought against him, and he was glad to take refuge in concealment—the first of the many concealments into which his incessant polemical activity drove him in the course of his long life. He never abated his opposition. He had no sooner retired from one controversy, than he reappeared in some other. His energy knew no bounds, his love of fighting no pause. When in his old age his friend and fellow-student Nicole advised him to rest. “Rest!” he said; “have I not all eternity to rest in?”