iffiliiiil'li'"!'!!!'!!.'!'.';;!!!".!!'" ","f."ifl:i 'I ' ,' i ; lli JAQUELINE PASCAL; % ilimp^ ot Cotttot f ite at fort Jtogal. FROM THE FRENCH OF M. VICTOR CgUSm, M. PROSPER FAUGERE, M. YINET, AND OTHER BOUROES. TRANSLATED B"y H. N. WITH AN INTRODUCTION, BY W. R. WILLIAMS, D.D. NEW YORK: ''ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, No, 530 BROAD"ffAY. 1860. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, In the Clerk'a Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York. M STBRBOTTPHD BY PRINTED BT THOMAS B. SMITH, JOHN A. (JEAT, 216 William St., N. V. 97 aiff Street. CnntBtits. iNTEonncrrioN, by Rev. W. R. 'Williams, THE PASCAL FAMILY. Gilberte, Madame Perier. — The 'Writings of the 'Women of Port Royal. — Jaqueline Pascal. — Birth and Education of Jaqueline Pascal. — Her Love of Poetry. — Her Presentation at Court. — The Smajl-pox, and her "Verses on it. — Cardinal Richelieu, and his Reception of Jaqueline and her Father, . . .28 THE YOTJNG POETESS AT ROUEN. Removal to Rouen, — Jaqueline's Reception there. — Her Sister's Marriage. — Her Poems. — Offers of Marriage. — Consolation for the Death of a Huguenot ,Lady. — Accident to her Father. — Its Consequences. — Conversion of Blaise Pascal and Jaqueline, . 48 PORT ROYAL. Illness of Blaise Pascal. — His Residence with Jaqueline at Paris. — The Interview with Descartes. — Singlin's Preaching. — Intro duction to Port Royal. — Sketch of its History and Constitu tions. — Joint Letter of Pascal and Jaqueline to Madame Perier, 58 PARENTAL OPPOSITION. Recall of Etienne Pascal to Paris. — His Opposition to Jaqueline's Plans. — Correspondences with Mere Agnes. — Her Mode of Liv ing. — Journey to Auvergne. — Paraphrase of a Latin Hymn. — Port Royal, and Female Genius. — Return to Paris, . . . 104 VI CONTENTS. THE NOVICE. Death of Etienne Pasoal. — Feelings of Blaise.— His Opposition to Jaqueline's Plans, — Her Removal to Port Royal. — ^Letters to him and to Madame Perier, — Pecuniary Trials. — Jaqueline's Narrative. — Her Profession as a Novice, 123 PASCAL'S CONVERSION. Illness of Madame Perier, — Jaqueline's Letters. — Pascal's worldly habits, — ^His final Conversion through his Sister's Instrumen tality. — Jaqueline's Account of her Occupation at Port Royal. — Her Letters on Education. — Her Regulations for Children, . 148 JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THORN. Account of the Founders of Jansenism, and the Recluses of La Grange. — Margaret Perier and the Miracle of the Holy Thorn, as related in the Letters of her Aunt. — Poem of the Latter. — The Provincial Letters. — Letters. — To her Nieces. — To the M6re Angelique de St. Jean, on the Death of a Sister, . . 112 PERSECUTION AND DEATH. Jaqueline's last Letters to her Kindred. — The Persecution re-com mences. — The Formulary. — Departure of the Abbess Angelique from Port Royal des Champs. — The Dispersion of the Novices. — Letter to Jaqueline and Margaret Perier, — Examination of Jaqueline Pascal. — Blaise Pascal forced into Opposition to the Pope. — Jaqueline's Letter on the Formulary, enclosed in one to Arnauld. — The Death of Angelique. — Signature of the For mulary. — Jaqueline's Death, 201 THE SURVIVORS. Pascal's Feelings on the Death of Jaqueliue. — Letters of Condo lence addressed to him and to Madame Perier. Death of Pas cal. — After-history of Madame Perier and her Daughters. — M. Cousin's Concluding Reflections, 227 CONTENTS. VU JAQUELINE PASCAL. An Essay, by M. Vinet, of Lausanne, 242 APPENDIX. Regulations for Children, by Jaqueline Pascal, .... 266 P>,ecollections of the M6re Angelique 315 INTRODUCTION. Pascal deserves to rank among the foremost names of the race. In that age of French literature which was emblazoned with the most profuse and gorgeous array of talent, none of his contemporaries surpassed, if any equalled him in reach and depth of thought, clearness and force of expression, and an eloquence graceful, winning, witty, sublime, or overwhelming, as the theme and the occasion might demand. In Science he enrolled himself amongst those of most inventive and pro found genius. To Religion and its defence, he brought the homage and consecration of powers, which skeptics like Con- dorcet and "Voltaire could not venture to scorn, nor aspire even to rival. And he was not a thinker, dwelling apart from the great controversies, and the critical, practical issues of his time. He was a power in his age. Upon the history of his Church, he graved indelibly his mark in the Provincial Let ters, working thereby an immediate and withal an enduring influence which has no counterpart in literary history. Jesuit ism received from those Letters a wound from which it never recovered, and which aided many years after to bring about its abolition. Ever since its restoration, the Jesuit Order bears .yet about it, amid its resuscitation, the scar not only, but the ulcer, the chronic and incurable infirmity which it contracted X INTRODUCTION. in the collision of its adroit and unscrupulous casuists with the terrible and invincible Louis de Montalte, the name that Pas cal chose to wear on his vizor and shield, as he rode into the lists to cope, single-handed, with the most potent and crafty, the most widely-spread and closely united of the great relig ious orders of the time. And all this was accomplished amid broken health, and ere an early death had taken him away from other and unfinished tasks of yet larger compass and higher aims. But to the Christian, the crowning gi-ace of Pascal's char acter is the high, earnest and absorbing zeal for God and His truth that possessed and consecrated all his faculties and at tainments, and gave the law to their action and influence. He labored not for fame or power, but for Truth and its defenders. In that body of mighty and devout men, the Jansenists of France, were others not unworthy to share by their force of intellect and power as writers, in Pascal's sympathies and his tasks, whilst to some of them, for their simple, earnest and consuming piety, even he looked up with reverence and do cility. The history of the Jansenists forms one of the most interest ing and remarkable episodes in the annals of the Christian Church. Although Port Royal, their great foundation, after a fierce and prolonged struggle, sank under the combined force of regal and sacerdotal enmity, Jesuitism could not at the same time extirpate the doctrines and system of Jansen ism. These yet survived and wrought widely and vividly. Their influence either within or without the bounds of the Romish Church is not yet spent ; and of their relations to the cause of Christian morals and evangelical doctrine, of sound INTRODUCTION. XI learning and national freedom, and individual worth, the Protestant no less than the Romanist may well be the patient and delighted student. "Whilst the struggle was yet going on between a dominant Jesuitism, and the spiritual and more scriptural Jansenism that it hated and proscribed, a contemporary English scholar, Theophilus Gale, one of the most learned of all the Noncon formists, and the author of the erudite " Court of the Gen tiles," published for British Christians a brief history of Jan senism. Owen's works show his interest in and acquaintance with the same controversy. The devout Archbishop Leighton, whose seraphic piety so delighted Doddridge, and in our own times 80 enchanted Coleridge, is thouglit to have derived some of his religious traits from his acquaintance whilst in France, during his earlier years, with some of the excellent Jansenists of that country. In a later day, Count Zinzendorfi', the re viver of Moravianism, and who gave to " the United Breth- I'en" of Germany their present polity, was in like manner benefited and kindled by intimacy during a visit in youth to France, with devout adherents of the same system. One of the essays of the eminent Jansenist moralist Nicole, upon which "V^oltaire has bestowed the warmest eulogies, seems to have equally won the admiration of the English philosopher Locke, who translated it into his own tongue, — it is said, for the especial benefit of his patron and friend, the versatile, restless and unscrupulous Earl of Shaftesbury. Left in man uscript long after Locke's death, it was a few years since for the firet time published. More recently Hannah More was an admirer and student of Nicole, and incurred therefor the sportive reproof of Dr. Johnson. Alexander Knox and his Xll INTBODUCTION. friend Bishop Jebb seem to have been conversant with the same treasures of Jansenist piety. An English Protestant, Mrs. Schimmelpenninck, was the compiler of a work entitled "Memoirs of Port Royal," that, having undergone several editions in her native country, has but this year appeared in our own. Still more recently than Mrs. Schimmelpenninck, a German Protestant, Reuchlin, has gathered from a wide study of the literature of Jansenism, and after personal research amid the manuscript collections of France, the materials for a History of Port Royal which has appeared in his own tongue. St. Beuve, one of the most distinguished of the living critics of France, has for years been occupied in a similar task. His History of Port Royal, the volumes of which have been issued at intervals, remains as yet incomplete. To his labors, his personal friend, the late lamented "V^inet, more than once alludes, in the frequent references which that profound thinker and most accomplished writer has made to the history and character of Jansenism. Vinet, it need not be said, was a staunch and uncompromising Protestant. He was more : — a most able and undaunted champion for evangelical doctrine and spiritual religion, to whom his sceptical and Rom ish contemporaries were compelled to do honor for his attain ments and taste, and the rare graces of his style, as well as for the power and reach of his intellect.* * The Count de Montalembert, in the paniphlet issued by him but the last year (1852), and entitled " Des Intcrets Catholiques au XIX" Si6ole" (The Interests of Catholicism in the 19th century), which recounts with such glowing eloquence the recruited glories, real or im aginary, of Romanism in the last half century, says that Protestantism, with its thousand sects, " has not produced a theologian or a preacher since the death of Vinet and the conversion of Newman," P. 69. INTRODUCTION. xiii "With such precedents, numerous and honored, it will not, we must hope, be considered as compromising the Protestant character of the accomplished translator and compiler of the following volume, that she has prepared for the press this sketch of the Life, Character and "Writings of the younger sister of Pascal, illustrating as it does incidentally the princi ples and struggles of Port Royal and the Jansenists. Kindred in genius, as she was most closely united by afi'ec- tion, to her distinguished brother, Jaqueline Pascal was a faithful witness, and in the mental sufi'erings which hastened her end, a meek victim for the truth as she regarded it. And, like her illustrious kinsman, she protested, though vainly, yet to tbe last, against some of those accommodations, extorted, as they supposed, by the necessities of the time, which some of the other great leaders of Jansenism, the firm and dauntless Anthony Arnauld amongst them, advised and urged. These advances for the sake of peace were unavaihng endeavors, that, as Pascal had forewarned the counsellors of them, failed to save the Institution, but sacrificed the truth. It seemed due to the integrity of history to preserve the allusions which in Jaqueline's letters, and other writings, recur not unfrequently to the usages and opinions of the Romish Church. It was a just complaint with respect to one of the English histories of Jansenism, to which we have referred, and was made by the London Christian Observer, at the time when the history appeared, that by assiduous and systematic suppression, from the narratives and conversations which it recorded, of all the Catholic peculiarities which in the original French authorities they presented, the book taught a Protest ant reader to suppose the Jansenists more free from grave XIV INTRODUCTION. errors, and more a.ssimilated to Protestantism than in truth they were. For the authority of Scripture, the need of personal con version, and the great doctrines of grace, as they were stated by Augustine, this body in the Catholic Church contended most strenuously and irrefragably. That the first impulse to their studies in this direction might have been supplied to Jansenius and his friend St. Cyran, by the synod of Dort, and the controversies which it awakened throughout Protest ant Europe, living as Jansenius did in Flanders, a territory contiguous to the scene of that memorable Synod, — is not improbable. That the Huguenot creed of. some of the ances tors of the Arnaulds may have contributed to render other and Catholic members of the family favorable to views of doctrine so nearly resembling Calvinism, was a favorite im putation of their Jesuit antagonists : — but seems much less tenable. The great leaders of the Jansenist body sought most strenuously to purge themselves from any appearance of identity or sympathy with the Protestants of France and Holland, by works of controversy directed against eminent Huguenot writers, or written in defence of leading Catholic tenets. Upon transubstantiation, for instance, the work con jointly issued by Arnauld and Nicole, entitled " The Perpetuity of the Faith," remains yet the most admired bulwark of this doctrine in the Catholic schools, who retain and extol thi,s treatise of Jansenist scholarship, though Jansenism itself as a system, and other writings of these very authors, have in curred the ban of the Vatican. In the case of a thoughtful and dispassionate Protestant, the study of the lives and writings of the devout Jansenists INTRODUCTION. XV must, it would seem to us, serve to deter and alienate from Rome, rather than to win to its communion. The system was an endeavor to graft the doctrines of grace as Augustine had so mightily and efi'ectively presented them in their sym metry and fulness, upon all the medieval usages and abuses — the accumulated traditions and inventions of successive cen turies in the Romish Church. Had Rome accepted these truths, and yielded gracefully to the engraftment, it would have " healed her wound" — the eating, and widening cancer of error within her system — so far at least, as to have made her teachings and her confessors far more specious and at tractive in the sight of one who, studying the epistles of Paul, had there found a greater than Augustine, in the name and right of a wiser and greater than either Augustine or Paul, setting forth the same glorious system as to the way of sal vation by grace. Had Rome Jansenized, men loving the theology of Paul and Paul's Master might have begun to hope that such truths, indulged and honored within the bounds of the Papal communion, must soon expel her remaining errors. But when the Infallible Church cast them out, and condemned their defenders, whilst meaning but to disown St. Cyi-an or Quesnel, she forgat that she was condemning Augustine, the greatest of the old Fathers. God allowed her thus to put a fresh contradiction amongst her own doctors, and a new and deliberate impeachment of His own Apostles aud apostolic verities upon her own records. And the more able, the more excellent, and the more devoted the men and women adhering to Jansenism, thus disavowed and extruded, the more em phatically did Rome put herself in the wrong ; and her Pro testant accusers were established, all the more assuredly, as xvi INTRODUCTION. being in the right, when they proclaimed the Communion that persecuted such confessors, and branded such a confess ion, as a Communion hopelessly blinded and irremediably corrupted — whose delusion was judicial and final, and for whose maladies there remained neither remedy nor hope. It was, again, a justification from a new and opposite quar ter, of the gi'ound taken in the Protestant Reformation. Salvation by grace, the same great elementary truth that was the core and pith of Jansenism, had in the hands of Luther and Zwingle, of Calvin, Knox, and Cranmer, revolutionized the Churches now known as the Reformed, and sent a new life into the governments, homes, workshops, and sanctuaries of their nations. But it had been the suspicion of some Pro testants, more conservative than comprehensive in their views, that these truths might have been sustained, and yet the great mass of Romish rites have been retained, and Christendom kept up unbroken the bond of a common ecclesiastical fellowship. The suspicion was based on forgetfulness of the fact that Rome had herself banished the Reformers, and that the rent was torn by her own proud hands, quite as much as by the divi sive energy of the truth itself. But now, as if to put the truth of this conjecture as to precipitancy in the Reformers to a decisive test, rose up in Catholic France, a body of learned, able, devout men, who resisted and denounced Protestantism, but asked to cherish, as Augustine had before them cherished, and as St. Paul in Scripture taught them, the great fact of the faith, that man's salvation is merely and purely of God's free grace. They gave every evidence of sincerity, even to obstinacy, in their attachment to Romish usages, the Papal Communion, and Peter's Chair. They honored relics, and INTRODUCTION. XVll kept saints' days, and used pictures, and adored the sacra ment, and were punctual in confession. In these and^the like things, they yearned to be Pharisees of the Pharisees, the most Romanizing of Romanists. But they would, with these, hold the old and great principles as to the mode of man's salvation, that the best men of the Church, in its best ages, had enounced and defended. In refusing such a desire, offered by such men, Rome silenced the Protestant cavillers at the old Reformers. Knox had been charged with barbar ism, and truly or untruly been represented as saying that the rookeries of cathedrals must fall, or the rooks of the clergy would j'eturn. The Papacy now virtually uttered a cruder and fiercer edict. It swept out doves and hewed down dove cotes, that the owl might sleep in peace, nor the raven be shamed by comparison with the birds of a softer cry and a brighter wing. As to the miracles claimed to have been wrought in de fence of Jansenist innocence and sanctity, whether in the ear lier times of the body, while Pascal yet lived, or in the much later age of the Convulsionnaires, as one portion of the later Jansenists were called, the subject would require a volume, if its discussion were to be commenced at all. No one who knows the character, either of Pascal or of his sister, can be persuaded, that for any earthly consideration, they would have lent themselves to a conscious fraud in holy things. That their niece was, after the apphcation of the Holy Thorn, healed of a tedious and noisome ulcer entirely, suddenly, and permanently, seems established by evidence that it wonld be impossible to overturn. But the force of hope and excited feeling, is to some modern physiologists a sufiicient explana- XVlU INTRODUCTION. tion. They believe that the physical influence of mind over body is greater than has been generally supposed, and see in this the solution of the mystery. Of the cases of healing, in :far later years, said to have occurred in the church yard of St.- Medard in Paris, at the grave of the Jansenist, M. Paris, they were, in proportion to the multitude of applicants, , few and dubious, ill-authenticated or transitory. Hume, indeed, afi'ected to see in these, rivals and counterparts ofthe miracles ofthe Gospel, so different in number, variety, constancy of efi'ect, and sufficiency of authentication. Had th^y been as numerous, startling, and unquestionable, as for the purpos.es of the sceptic's argument they ought to have been-i-but.as in reality they were not — there are many Pro testants who would see in them no seal of Heaven, but rather a new betrayal ofthe traits and predicted marks of the Anti christ whom Paul denounced, and whom Christ's coming is to destroy. Though some thinkers, — the honored Dr. "Ward- law in his late work on Miracles is one with them, — deny the power of working miracles to any but the One Supreme God, it has been the judgment of theologians of the highest name in former times, that — in Scripture we find, as from reason we might anticipate, that — under the government of that Supreme Je'hovah,, He has allowed, under certain limits, the exhibition of superhuman power, by beings superior to man, though in ferior to Himself. Satan, too, may work his wonders, though, foT'the purpose they would subserve, they are but lying won ders. The security of man against fatal delusion, lies in the fact that God, exercises the higher power, and works the more numerous, august, and controlling miracles ; and in the prin ciple, that man, in the case of a doctrine claiming superhuman INTRODUCTION. XIX endorsements, must test the doctrine by the Scriptures, as well as the alleged, miracle and seal by his senses. Buttressed about, as Scripture is, by evidence of miracle and prophecy, (which is cumulative and germinant miracle,) the great doc trines of Scripture might now legitimately overweigh any amount of supposed miracle that such hostile but superhuman agency should be permitted to work, in derogation and con- fiita,tion of those statements of Revelation. Many of the Pro testant opponents of Rome believe that they see in Soriptvire distinct warning that her claims were to be, at times, aided by such feigned and delusive prodigies. And seeing, fr-om the histories of Job, and Peter, and Paul, how close the contiguity which the deceiver Satan may secure to the task, and path even of God's elect, such Protestants can believe that good men — the favored and beloved of Heaven, but unhappily en tangled in an unscriptural system and communion — may, as the consequence and retribution of that entanglement, have been the witnesses and dupes of such specimens of his subtle and potent jugglery. "Without undertaking to dogmatise on a subject intricate and disputed, it would seem that, on such principles, we might fully admit the honesty not only, but the eminent piety of those witnessing to strange appearances, which yet, in connection with the unscriptural doctrines and usages they were to support, win neither our submission nor our reverence. The young and accomplished author, whose first appearance the present volume brings with it, seems to us, in most of her translations, to have succeeded in preserving an idiomatic, flowing, and racy style which might often lead the reader to suppose that the document he peruses had been first written XX INTRODUCTION. in our tongue. In introducing to Christians who speak the EngUsh language and hold the Protestant system, the char acter and writings, the Christian graces and the bitter trials, of a gifted and devout Romanist, the compiler trusts that the great truths, in which Jaqueline Pascal, like her fellow-con fessors, was united with us, will be regarded as receiving fresh illustration from their effect upon one in whom dignity and lowliness, wisdom and simplicity, lofty genius and saintly piety, the martyr's firmness and the woman's tenderness, were so rarely and beautifully blended. WILLIAM R. WILLIAMS. 13 Ju'ne, 1853. JAQUELINE PASCAL. The family of the Pascals was truly a remarkable one. When Eichelieu,"* with his eagle glance, perceived in his audience chamber Etienne Pascal, accompanied by his son Blaise, then about fifteen, and his two girls Gilberte and Jaqueline, he was astonished at the chil dren's beauty, and instead of waiting for the father to introduce them to his notice, himself bade the elder Pascal take special care of his oflspring, saying, ",I mean to make something great of them." Etienne Pascal was himself an excellent man. He belonged to an old family of the province of Auvergne, in the south of France, studied law in Paris, and re turning thence to his native city of Clermont, pur chased the office of assessor-general. He was after wards made president of the court of excise. In 1618 he married Antoinette Begon, who died in 1628, leav ing him with three children, Gilberte, Blaise, and Jaqueline. In 1630 he sold his office of president, together with the greater part of his possessions in * The cardinal-duke, who, in the reign of Louis XIII. of France, exercised despotic authority as Prime-minister. 24 JAQUELINE PASCAL. Auvergne, investing the proceeds in rents of the Hotel- de-VUle in Paris, whither he removed in order to edu cate his children, more particularly Blaise. He was a well-informed and even a learned man, who associated with mathematicians and scientific persons, and shared in their toils. There is extant a letter of his to tha Jesuit Noel, wherein he advises him, in a tone half- jest, half-earnest, not to commit himself in disputing with Blaise Pascal about the weight of the atmosphere, and warns him that he will find the latter a formidable adversary. He bestowed on his son a somewhat sys tematic education, which was not without its influence on the bent of his mind. The two daughters also re ceived very thorough instruction. The elder, Gil berte, devoted to the other children aU a mother's care. Margaret Perier, her daughter, says of her, " When my grandfather came to Paris for his chil dren's education, she was ten years old. She married at twenty-one, while her father was living in Rouen," Monsieur Perier, a distant cousin, who belonged to Clermont, but was sent with a commission to Nor mandy in 1640, which he executed so well as to ex cite the esteem of Monsieur Pascal, and the latter gave him his daughter's hand. They resided partly in Au vergne, partly in Paris or Eouen. " When at Cler mont, Mad. Perier went into society suitable for per sons of her age and rank, and was much admired, being beautiful, graceful, and very witty. My grand father had educated her, and frora her earliest voutL THE PASCAL FAMILY. 25 amused himself with teaching her mathematics, philoso phy, and history." This picture need not be suspected of embellishment. The austere Margaret never flatter ed, and such a Jansenist as she would not have noticed her mother's beauty, unless it had been something ex traordinary. The Jansenist manuscripts contain many of Mad. Perier's letters, but posterity is more indebted to her for the well-known " Life of Pascal," an admi rable biography, which makes us love Pascal. Hia sister, in the discharge of her affectionate task, says as little as possible of herself, and thinks only of dehne- ating her brother. Nevertheless, as Reuchhn remarks, the Life of Pascal by Mad. Perier, plainly yet uninten tionally reveals the latter's sound sense, and loving care for one who was her pride, and whom she deeply reverenced. Many sufferings awaited him through life, but she, like a true Martha, stood at his side to help him, while Jaqueline, though younger than he, may be considered as Pascal's spiritual twin-sister. Gilberte early regarded her brother as a superior being, both in mind and character, and though she was herself no idle spectator of his great achievements, Jaqueline exercised a stronger influence over him. The latter in after years manifested the spirit ofa Mary. Hand-in-hand with him she traversed the journey of life, and his death soon foUowed hers. The twin-souls were not long divided. Jaqueline is a much more remarkable character than even Gilberte. Heaven had gifted her with genius as 26 JAQUELINE PASCAL. well as with feminine attractions. ITeither in iatelleot nor disposition was she inferior to her brother Pascal, and it is impossible to measure what her attainments might have been, had she cared for fame, and culti vated her native powers. But perfection, of whatever kind, imperiously requires of all who would attain it, that they should eagerly and perseveringly search for it. To win fame, we must value it, for genius needs resolute tillage before it will yield abundant fruit. So is it with virtue ; the happiest dispositions, the most noble instincts of our nature, are insufllcient, unless to these be added a determination to do right, submission to law, and ceaseless vigilance in order to prevent errors, to fortify and develop good impulses, and to convert them into good habits. The women of Port Royal set before themselves great objects, salvation and spiritual perfection ; and sought to attain their ideal by continued effort, diligent meditation, earnest prayer, and austere self-denial. Half as much care bestowed on their minds, would have pis ced them in the first rank of writers. Where are tl,e men who have dared more, struggled more, suffe^ied more or better than these very women? They knew and braved persecution, calumny, exile, imprisonment. When they wrote, they did it with a mingled sim plicity and grandeur. We cannot but recognize in them minds and hearts of a rare and totally different stamp from those of the most brilliant dames in the cotemporary court circles. With a little c iltivation, THE PASCAL FAMILY. 27 they were capable of producing master-pieces. For what in fact is style ? The expression of thought and character. Whoever thinks meagrely and feels but feebly, is incapable of a good style. On the contrary, any one of lofty intelligence, devoted to sublime con templations, and that has a soul in unison with his in tellect, cannot help occasionally writing lines worthy of admiration. And if reflection and study be super added, such an one has within him the materials of a great writer. The M^re Agn^s and the M^re An gelique wrote much, yet neither they nor their brother Antoine Arnauld, left behind them models of compo sition. How was this ? They lacked the difficult art of making expression equal the thoughts and feelings it was intended to convey. That art they would have disdained, or rather rejected as sinful. Far from dis playing their genius, they endeavored to stifle it in humility, in silence, and in complete abnegation of the world and self. They only wrote as they spoke, from pure necessity. Here and there certain beautiful phrases escape from them unconsciously, by the sole force of noble thought. But art being absent, their unpohshed and careless style soon sinks, and unless dictated by strong feeling, becomes diff'use, dull, or dry. And Jaqueline Pascal, their disciple, their equal in inteUigence and feeling, imitated them in the attempt to extinguish her own enthusiasm and genius, or rather to tum both into another channel. She attained the moral excellence she sought ; she faUed in attaining 28 JAQUELINE PASOAL. the hterary excellence she despised. We acknowledge that her writings are not highly polished, but they in dicate great natural talent. Many of her pieces in prose and verse are to be found scattered through the Jansenist collections ; and to these we have united a number of pieces hitherto unpublished, more especially letters addressed to her sister Gilberte and her brother Pascal. No means of improving our knowledge of that noble family ought to be neglected, and Jaque line, moreover, deserves attention for her own sake. Gilberte Pascal, not satisfied with writing her bro ther's hfe, sought also to preserve some memorials of her darling sister. Accordingly she composed sketches of Jaqueline from early childhood until the latter's entrance into the convent of Port Royal, which dis play the same simplicity, good sense, and graceful style as does the " Life of Pascal." Several paragraphs devoted to her aunt, in the Memoirs of Margaret Per ier, GUberte's daughter, continue and complete her mother's work ; and by the aid of these sparse frag ments, the biography of Jaqueline Pascal must be composed. However, the writings she has left, and her confidential letters, show her intellect and disposi tion, and teach us not only to admire but to love her. Her life and writings may be divided into three parts. 1. From her childhood tUl her conversion, 2. From her conversion till she became a nun. 3. From thence untU her death. "My sister," says Madame Perier, in her Sketch of THE PASCAL FAMILY. 29 the Life of Sister Jaqueline de Sainte Euphemie, by birth Jaqueline Pascal, ''was born at Clermont* on the 4th of October, in the year 1625. I was six years older than she, and can remember that as soon as she began to speak, she gave signs of great inteUigence, besides being perfectly beautiful, and of a kindly and sweet temper, the most winning in the world. She was, therefore, as much loved and caressed as a chUd could possibly be. My father removed to Paris in 1631, and took us all with him. My sister was then six years old, still very pretty, and so agreeable that she was a general favorite, in request with aU our friends, and spent but Uttle of her time at home. " At seven years old, she began to learn to read, and by my father's wish, 1 became her teacher. This was a troublesome task, on account of her great aversion to it ; and do what I would, I could not coax her to * Clermont, a city of Auvergne, one of the southern provinces of France, now comprising the Departments of Puy de Dome and Can- tal. Auvergne is a mountainous region, proverbial for the obstinacy of its inhabitants. Blaise Pasoal was proud of his birth-place, and Jaqueline thus describes it in one of her poems : — " A climate, fertile in unnumber'd charms. Though ornaments, save nature's it hath none In stern simplicity, untouch'd by art. It yields a picture of its Maker's power. There, in Auvergne, — from those proud peaks afar Whose gloomy heights nor fruit nor harvests know. But in their stead dark precipices yawn ; — Rises a liltle hill, so fruth and fair, So favored by tice Sun's celestial ray, That Clairinmi.t seems its most appropriate name." 30 .JAQUELINE PASCAL. come and say her lesson. One day, however, I chanced to be reading poetry aloud, and the rhythm pleased her so much that she said to me, 'If you want me to read, teach me out of a verse-book, and then I will say my lesson as often as you like.' This surprised me, because I did not think that a chUd of her age could distinguish verse from prose ; and I did as she wished. After that time she was always talking about verses, and learned a great many by heart, for she had an exceUent memory. She wanted to know the rules of poetry, and at eight years old, before knowing how to read, she began to compose some that were really not bad, a proof how strong in this respect was her native bent. " She had then two playmates who contributed not a Uttle to her enjoyment. They were the daughters of Madame Saintot, and themselves made verses, though not much older than Jaqueline ; so that in the year 1636, when my father took me with him on a journey to Auvergne, and Madame de Saintot begged that she might keep my sister with her while we were gone, the three little girls took it into their heads to act a play, and composed plot and verses, without the least aid from any one else. It was, however, a co herent piece, and had five acts, divided by scenes reg ularly arranged. They performed it themselves twice, with some other actors whom they invited, before a large company. Everybody wondered that such chU dren should be capable of constructing a complete THE PASCAL FAMILY. 31 work, and many pretty things were discovered in it, so that it became the talk of all Paris for a long time." Thus began the reputation for talent which Jaque line never afterwards lost. The play, could we recover -t, would be a curiosity, but it has entirely disappeared. "My sister still continued to make verses about whatever came into her head, as well as on all extraor dinary occurrences. At the beginning of 1638, when the queen was expecting an heir, she did not faU to write on so fine a subject, and these verses were better than any of her previous efforts. We lived at that time very near Monsieur and Madame de Morangis, who took so much delight in the child's pretty ways, that she was with her nearly every day. Madame de Morangis, charmed with the idea of JaqueUne's having written verses on the queen's situation, said that she would take her to St. Germain (one of the royal palaces) and present her. She kept her word, and on their arrival, the queen being at the moment engaged, every one surrounded the Uttle girl, in order to ques tion her and see her verses." Jaqueline was then only twelve years old, and so small of her age, that some suspicion was naturally awakened whether she had really composed them, and her abiUty was at once tested. "Mademoiselle,* then very young, said to •* Mademoiselle de Montpensier, daughter of the Duke of Orleans, aud niece to Louis X(1I,, better known in history as the great Made moiselle. She was afterw.irds one of the most conspicuous heroines 82 JAQUELINE PASOAL. her, ' Since you make verses so well, make some for me.' Jaqueline went quietly into a corner and com posed an epigram for the princess, which plainly showed that it was written on the spur of the moment, by referring to the command that Mademoiselle had just given.' It ran as follows : ' It is our noble princess' will. That thou, my Muse, exert thy sldll To celebrate her charms to-day : Hopeless our task ! — the only way To praise her well is to avow The simple truth — we know not how !' Mademoiselle, seeing that she had finished it so quickly, said, ' Now make one for Madame de Haute- fort.'* She immediately wrote another epigram for that lady, which, though very pretty, was easily seen to be impromptu. ' 0 marvel not, bright master-piece of earth. At the prompt tribute by yonr charms called forth. Your glance, that roves the world around In every clime hath captives found. That i-ay, which charms my youthful heart. May well arouse my fancy's art.' Soon after this, permission was given to enter the of the Fronde, and during that struggle ordered the cannon of the Bastile to be turned against the royal troops. Late in life she mar ried the Duke de Lauzun, who was greatly her inferior iu rank, and repaid her condescension with neglect and uukindness. * Madame de Hautefort, one of the ladies in waiting on the queen, Anne of Austria,, THE PASCAL FAMILY. 83 queen's apartment, and Madame de Morangis led my sister in. The queen was surprised at her poetry, but fancied at first that it was either not her own, or that she had been greatly aided. AU present thought the same, but Mademoiselle removed their doubts by showing them the two epigrams that Jaqueline had just made in her presence, and by her own orders. This circumstance increased the general admiration, and from that day forward my sister was often at court, and much caressed by the King, the Queen, Mademoiselle, and all who saw her. She even had the honor of waiting on her Majesty when she dined in private, Mademoiselle taking the place of chief butler. " She wrote many other pretty things, such as grace ful notes to her friends, and her repartees were re markable for point : one could not wish finer. But all this did not in the least lessen her gay good-humor. She amused herself most heartily with her play-mates in all childish games, and when alone, played with her dolls. In 1638 a small coUection of her poems was printed and dedicated to the queen Anne of Austria, who had taken so much interest in the Uttle poetess. Several of the pieces are addressed to her. Another collection was made by Margaret Perier, the niece of Jaqueline, many years afterwards. Those poems most Ukely to interest modern readers have been translated, and wiU be g->/en according to their dates. The remainder, 34 JAQUELINE PASCAL. though reprinted by M. Cousin, and not destitute of poetic grace, yet scarcely deserve transfer into a for eign tongue. They consist of odes in honor of the Virgin Mary and St. Cecilia, together with a number of short epigrams and love-songs, which it is difficult to believe could have been written by one so young. Even in that age of gallantry, they drew from Bens- serade, a poet of some note, and the rival of Yoiture, a long address, one verse of which says — " When girls of thirteen sigh and weep for love, 'Tis often wrong ; But genius lifts thee common rules above. Fair child of song !" Jaqueline herself considered her poetic talent as an instinct implanted by her Creator, for which she claimed no merit, but ascribed all the glory to Him. A little poem on this subject, written in August, 1638, is not without a degree of elevation, both in thought and style. STANZAS THANKING GOD FOB THE POWER OF WRITING POETRY. Lord of the Universe, If the strong chains of verse Eound my delighted soul their links entwine. Here let me humbly own The gift is Thine alone. And comes, great God, from no desert of mine. THE PASCAL FAMILY. 35 Yea Lord, how many long For the sweet power of song, Which thou hast placed in my young feeble heart ; Thy bounties string ray lyre, And, with celestial fire, To my dull soul a hidden light impart, 0 Lord, a thankless mind Will not acquittal find In thy pure presence. Therefore it is just That, touched with godlike flame, I should thy love proclaim. And chant the glories of thy name august. As waterfalls, and rills, And streams wind past the hills In steady progress toward their parent sea. Thus Lord, my simple lays. Heedless of this woi-ld's praise. Find their way home, O Source Divine, to Thee ! August, 1638. In the following year the tranquUhty of home, that important requisite in Etienne Pascal's plan of educa tion, was suddenly disturbed by an event, the conse quences of whioh greatly influenced the bent of his ohUdren's minds, and their ultimate destiny. France was then at war with Spain, and the contest not tak ing so favorable a tum as had been predicted at its commencement, the government found itself in urgent need of funds. The all-important supplies were ob tained by dint of attentions and flattery to the corpo ration of Paris, which induced them to acquiesce in 36 JAQUELINE PASCAL. measures for the arbitrary seizure of private property. The elder Pascal had, as we have seen, made large in vestments in bonds of the Hotel-de-Ville, and Cardinal Richelieu plundered him, as well as others, of a por tion of their income. This injustice came near pro voking an insurrection. Some of the greatest stock holders, among whom was Pascal, went in March 1638 to the ChanceUor, and remonstrated so strongly, even threateningly, against the wrong done to them selves and to four or five hundred more, that the Chancellor became alarmed, and Richelieu gave orders to have the malcontents arrested. Pascal, learning betimes that some of his companions were in the Bas tile, thought it advisable to travel incognito into Au vergne, and thus when the halberdiers came to search his dwelling, he could not be found. Mad. Perier's account of the transaction is this : " In March, 1638, my father, together with many other persons who, like himself, were interested in the rents charged upon the Hotel-de-Ville, was at the Chancellor's house, where words were spoken, and some acts occurred, slightly violent, not to say sedi tious, which being reported to the Cardinal de Riche heu, he ordered the chief actors to the Bastile. My father was supposed to be one of their number, and search was accordingly made at his residence for him, but he effected his escape, whUe three of the others were taken. Meantime he remained in concealment at the houses of different friends, without daring to THE PASCAL FAMILY. 37 come home at aU. He was very much comforted un der this affliction by Jaqueline's endearing ways, for he loved her with unusual tenderness. But this con solation did not last long, for in September of that same year, she became most dangerously ill of the small-pox. My father then forgot his fears, and said that let the risk be what it might, he must be at home, in order to watch with his own eyes the course of her Ulness. And he really never left her for a moment, not even sleeping out of her room. She recovered, but her countenance was quite disfigured, and being then thirteen, she was old enough to value beauty and to regret its loss. And yet, this mischance did not in the least trouble her ; on the contrary, she considered it as a mercy, and in some verses composed as a thank- offering, she said that her pitted face seemed to her the guardian of her innocence, and these traces of dis ease certain signs that God would keep her from evil. All this was done of her own accord." A translation of this little poem is here given. Dr. Reuchlin remarks that there is something about it painfully precocious for one of her years, yet her precocity does not seem to have made her unhappy ; as her sister goes on to say, " She did not leave the house during the whole winter, not being fit to ap pear in company, but her time did not hang heavUy, for she was very busy with her trinkets and doUs." 38 JAQUELINE PASCAL. STANZAS THANKING GOD FOR RECOVERY FEOM THB SMALL-POX Ruler of earth and skies ! Bid Thou my hymn arise As from an angel's tongue ; I sound no mortal's praise, To Thee my voice I raise. And at Thine altars chant my grateful song. Thou, from Thy throne above. Hast looked, in sovereign love. On a poor earth-worm's trail ; Thy hand my fever broke. And shielded from death's stroke A racked and restless frame, than glass more frail. All men, great God, may see Thy pure benignity To one so weak and worn ; Without Thy loving aid Thus wondrously displayed. My life had faded in its April morn. When, in the mirror, I Scars of mine illness spy, Those hollow marks attest The heart-rejoicing truth. That I am Thine, in sooth. For Thou dost chasten whom Thou lovest best. 1 take them for a bi-and That, Master, thy kind hand Would on my forehead leave. Mine innocence to show : — And shall I murmur ? No. While Thy rod comforts me, I will not grieve. THE PASCAL FAMILY. 89 But Lord, my work is vain. No human heart or strain To praise thee hath the skill. To tell Thy bounties here That charm the eye and ear. Passes my power, but cannot pass my will. Novemher, 1638. Cardinal Richeheu had an unfortunate idea that his taste in poetry and the fine arts was fully equal to his 'vast poUtical genius ; and in February, 1639, he took a fancy to have some children act a play, selecting for that purpose not one of Corneille's masterpieces, but a tragedy by Mademoiselle Scuderi, entitled Ty rannic Love, which suited his own false taste. His niece, the Duchess d'Aiguillon, undertook to find the little girls who should perform it, and asked Madame de Saintot if she would allow her younger daughter to act, sending at the same time an invitation for Jaqueline Pascal to take a part. Gilberte, who in Etienne Pascal's absence was mistress of the house, proudly answered : " The Cardinal has not been kind enough to us, to make us take any pains to give him pleasure ;" alluding to her father's constrained exile. The Duchess was an excellent woman, who often sought to remedy instances of individual suffering oc casioned by her uncle's political measures, and knew well how to effect this by humoring his weak points. She therefore requested Gilberte to withdraw her re fusal, adding that she thought there was a possibihty 40 JAQUELINE PASCAL. of obtaining her father's recaU, if his little girl were to petition the Cardinal, and promising to use her own influence in his behalf both with her uncle and the Chancellor. GUberte then asked leave to consult her friends, to whom advice coining from so high a quarter seemed of such moment, that they thought the opportunity must by no means be let pass. A celebrated actor of those days, caUed Mondory, who came from Clermont, and had assumed the name of Mondory, because it had belonged to his godfather, an Auvergnese of rank, was accordingly engaged to teach the chUd her allotted part, and took great pains with her. " She performed," says Madame Perier, whose modesty did not allow her to chronicle her own spirited reply, not unworthy of a Cornelia, " so charmingly that she delighted everybody, especiaUy as she was very small, and had a childish face, more like that of a girl of eight than of thirteen. After the play, she stepped down from the stage, that Madame de Saintot might lead her to Madame d'Aigmllou, who wished to present her to the Cardinal ; but, seeing that something delayed Madame de Saintot, and that? the Cardinal was rising to withdraw, she went up to him all alone. "When he saw her coming, he sat down again, took her on his knee, and caressing her, per ceived that she was weeping. He asked what was the matter, and she then repeated to him the foUow ing address : THE PASCAL FAMILY. 41 ' Deem it not strange, thou Prince without a peer. If I have failed to hold thine eye and ear ; My trembling frame seems palsied with dismay. And trouble steals my very voice away. If thou wouldst have me win thy gracious smile. Call back a banished father from exile. Of clemency oft proved this boon I crave. From perils vast the innocent to save. Thus wilt thou set soul, voice, and gesture fi-ee To task their utmost skill in pleasing thee.' Madame d'Aiguillon added many obliging entreat ies, and the Cardinal at length told Jaqueline that he would grant her request, and her father might return whenever he chose. And then this mere child, with out any prompting, said to him : ' My lord, I have stUl another favor to ask of your eminence.' The Cardinal was so enchanted both with her graceful be havior and the slight freedom that she had taken, that he said to her, ' Ask what you like, and I will grant 4fc*^She answered : ' I entreat your eminence to al low my father the honor of paying his respects to you on his return, so that he may himself thank you for the kindness you have done us all to-day.' The Car dinal said : ' Not only granted, but it is just what "I wish. Tell him, that he need have no apprehension in coming, and let him bring his whole family with him.' " Margaret Perier, in relating the above scene, says that her mother, then about nineteen, and Blaise Pascal, then fifteen, were standing near, both in the lull bloom of youthful beauty, and that the Cardinal 42 JAQUELINE PASCAL. expressed pleasure at the idea of restoring a father to so lovely a family. He then committed Jaqueline to Madame d'Aiguillon's care, and requested her to see that all the young actresses were supplied with re freshments, which was done magnificently. On his arrival in Paris, M. Pascal lost no time in paying his respects to the Cardinal at Ruel. The lat ter, when his name was announced, asked if the gen tleman were alone, and on being told that he was, sent him word that he could not have an audience until he came accompanied by his famUy. Next day he took with him all three of his children, and the Cardinal received him very graciously, saying that he felt great gratification in restoring a man of so much merit to a family deserving his tenderest care, and bade him watch over his chUdren, promising to make something great of them in the future. Mademoiselle Scuderi testified her gratitud^for Jaqueline's aid in the performance of her tragedy^y* addressing to her some complimentary lines, which M. Cousin characterizes as commonplace, and yet full of bombast. The little girl, whom she had styleJ Cassandra, politely replied : "Were I Cassandra, famed of yore For beauty that could burn The Sun's bright heart to ashes, I would spurn Her prophet-dowiy, and implore Fi-oni tlie Parnassian god a better spell, — The wished-for knowledge, how to praise you well." C|e f ouiiQ f uetess at ^amx. Cardinal Richelieu soon proved the sincerity of his expressions of good- will, by selecting Etienne Pas cal as one of the commissioners appointed to discharge the duties of Intendant for the province of Normandy, in the district of Rouen, where in an insurrection of the peasantry occasioned by the introduction of a new system of taxation, the rebels had defied the local authorities, destroyed the Receipt-office, and murdered some of the collectors. The Government, convinced that the ParUament of Rouen had not done its duty, sent thither two independent commissioners, armed with full power to enforce the laws. To one of these, M. de Paris, was committed the oversight of the mih tary, to his colleague, M. Pascal, that of the finances. A body of troops supported them, under command of the fierce soldier, Gassion, a Calvinist, in company with whom Pascal commenced his journey, and who had to force his way through the streets of Rouen, and to put down the obstinate resistance of the peasants, nicknamed the Barefooted, with fire and sword. Pascal performed the troublesome task of setting a large part 44 JAQUELINE PASCAL. of the Records and accounts to rights with exemplary resolution and probity, forbidding his subordinates to accept the smallest gratuity, and even discharging his own secretary, though a relative, because he had re ceived a louis-d'or. The interest which his son Blaise took in the regulation of this business, led him to in vent his extraordinary calculating machine, which was patented in 1649. As soon as it was practicable, Etienne Pascal sum moned his famUy to their new home. CorneUle, the creator of the French classic drama, was then living in Rouen, his birth-place ; he frequently visited the new-comers, and aided in the cultivation of Jaqueline's taste and the development of her poetic talent. By his advice she became a competitor for the prize which an old custom of Rouen awarded to the writer of the best poem on the Church hoUday of the Conception of the Virgin ; but when the festival was celebrated, and the president of the ceremony announced that the prize was hers, she was absent. CorneUle, however, rose aud improvised a brief address of thanks in her name. The prize was brought to her with druma^ trumpets, and a grand procession, " yet," says Mad. Perier, " she received it with wonderful composure. Though she was then fifteen, she was as froUcksome as a Uttle chUd, and stUl found much amusement in her doUs. We used to scold her for this, but had great difficidty in getting her to give up chUdish plays, which she much preferred to the distinguished society THE YOUNG POETESS AT EOUEN. 45 of the town, although she received general admiration. She took no pleasure in fame or applause, and I never saw any one care less for them. " The reputation she had acquired from early chUd hood, instead of lessening as she grew older, increased, because she possessed those noble qualities that suit every age, so that she was invited everywhere, and those who did not know her intimately, were anxious for her acquaintance. When she went into company without being expected, every one was rejoiced at her entrance, but it was most remarkable that she was never in the least puffed up, and received such atten tion with an indifference that only made her the more beloved : her daUy companions not being at all jeal ous, but doing, on the contrary, all they could to in crease the esteem felt for her, by making known her private excellences, her gentleness, her kindness, and her lively, yet equable temper." In 1641, Gilberte Pascal married Florin Perier, a distant cousin of her father's. They lived two years in Rouen, and then went back to Clermont. Jaque Une's life for the next few years, seems to have been pleasant and uneventful. " During this time," con tinues her sister, " there were many opportunities for her marriage, but divine providence always interposed some obstacle. On these occasions she never showed either like or dislike, being perfectly submissive to my father's will, though as yet uninfluenced by religion, towards which, indeed, she felt alienation and even a 46 JAQUELINE PASOAL. little contempt, believing that many of its practices could not satisfy a person of reflection." Poor Jaque line! was it strange that a mind like hers should be perplexed in view of the many pueriUties that overload the truths of the Gospel, in the corrupted system of Christianity under which it was her misfortune to be bom ? It appears that some of her associates must have been of the Reformed faith, since, in 1645, we find her addressing a poem of mingled regret and affection to one friend on the decease of another. The piece is entitled : CONSOLATION FOR THE DEATH OF A HUGUENOT LADY. Phillis, calm your di-eadful grief. Let the anguish find rehef That bewails your buried friend. Or your days must swiftly end, — And to lose you were such pain That I could not life sustain. Vain are all your bitter cries ; — Death, alas ! is deaf to sighs. And to tears is also blind. Were his nature less unkind, He had revei-enced the charms Withered in his wintry arms. Naught escapes him here below. For his stern impartial blow Heeds not happiness or woe. Homely features, beauty's brow. THE YOUNG POETESS AT ROUEN. 47 Guilt, and innocence must bow. And the might of Death allow. Change is marked on all we see ; Our most firm felicity. As we grasp it, fades away. Even you, some dreary day, Will be mourned by those who now Seek your love with tearful vow I pretend not, by discourse To arrest the rapid course Of the thoughts that vex you so. All their bitterness I know. And your grief I cannot blame While my soul partakes the same. Friendly tears were never shed O'er a lovelier lady dead : Cloris was, in form and face, Gifted with angelic grace ; But, in youth's enchanting bloom, Fate h.as laid her in the tomb. You have deeper cause to groan ! O'er her state a shade is thrown. Anxious doubts your spirit chafe, As you ask, " Can she be safe ? — She who died, remaining still A heretic in act and will ?" Doubt not, in the dying hour, Tliat lier strengthened soul had power, By afilictions puri tied. Every weight to cast aside : — Light celestial entering in. That she meekly owned her sin. 48 JAQUELINE PASCAL. And, O Lord, if earthly love Can thy tender pity move. Hear the prayers we''ll henceforth make In thy temple, for her sake Whom Thou didst create so fair. But who never worshipped there. Her ill-fated birth alone Caused the errors we bemoan ; Blinded by her zeal's excess. And her fihal tenderness. To the last she persevered In the faith her sire revered. Thou didst on her spirit shower Heavenly gifts, the precious dower Of the souls that love Thee best : — Calm devotion filled her breast. And the flame of sacred love Raised her hopes to Thee above. Day by day her dearest care Was to serve the Lord by prayer. Could her faith so fruitful be If it were not given of Thee ? Shall the zeal Thou didst bestow Sink her in eternal woe ? In my dim and sinful state. Lord, I dare not penetrate Secrets that thy wisdom hides. But thy goodness yet abides ; — And thiiie equitable will Is with mercy tempered still. Therefore, Phillis, weep no more ; — Since the God whom wo implore THE YOUNG POETESS AT BOUEN. 49 Chides your grief, and bids you hope In His love's unbounded scope ; Following thus th' example set By the friend whom you regret. One or two minor poems, written during her resi dence in RomCj may be inserted here. DEVOTIONAL SONNET. O glorious Architect of earth and sea. Yet of frail man the Maker and the stay. Here at Thine altar's foot I humbly pray. Let thy world-sheltering love encircle me. Well may my every hope be built on Thee, For I can hear uumoved the thunder's growl. Can brave e'en demons, and their whispers foul, When my heart trusteth in thy sure decree. But ah I the power of sin o'erwhelms my frame. Frustrates my wishes, makes my spirit tame. And dims the lustre of its zealous flame. Its languor pardon. Lord ! My strength uphold. Make my weak nature in thy service bold, Let not Thy love in my faint heart wax cold. February, 1640. SERENADE. O pure and lovely Clai'ice, rise. Bid sleep depart from those sweet eyes ! We blame thee not, that through the day Thy charms should drive our peace away. Then is it just for thee to sleep While they who love thee, vigil keep ? 3 50 JAQUELINE PASCAL. 0 mark the sorrows of my soul. List to my sighs, and then console ; Or if thy heart I cannot gain. Lend me thine ear while I complain, And since thy frowns forbid my sleep. Share thou the weary watch I keep. In 1646, the elder Pascal, while absent from home on a charitable errand, sUpped upon some ice, fell, and dislocated his thigh. This occurrence occasioned an increase of intimacy between his famUy and two noblemen living in the environs of Rouen, who were often caUed upon to remedy simUar accidents. They were brothers, belonging to the numerous family of BaUleul, one having the title De la BouteUlerie, and the other that of Deslandes. From chUdhood they had shown peculiar skUl in the setting of broken or dislocated bones, and had made anatomy and medi cine their favorite studies, at first by way of amuse ment, untU they became attracted by the preaching of a worthy servant of God, named GuiUebert, the pastor of RouvUle, who had shared the captivity of St. Cyran. The eloquence of this man was so great, that people came from aU parts to hear him preach, and members of the parUament of Rouen were accus tomed to hire lodgings at the village of RouviUe, and spend their Saturday nights there, in order to be ready for his Sabbath discourses. The two noblemen placed themselves under this clergyman's spiritual guidance, and each soon had a small hospital erected THE YOUNG POETESS AT ROUEN. 51 in his own park. Deslandes, who had ten children, furnished his buUding with ten beds; his brother, who was childless, provided twenty, and both spent much time in attendance on the sick. They replaced Etienne Pascal's dislocated limb, and were kind enough to remain three months with him for the sake of effecting a perfect cure. " The whole famUy," says Madame Perier, " was benefited by their residence in it." Hitherto, the Pascals had been regarded as not only upright, but pious people. Gilberte assures us that the fear of God had always kept her brother Blaise from yielding to youthful temptations ; " and what, for a mind like his, was still more extraordinary," continues she, "he had never been inclined to become a freethinker in matters of reUgion, but had confined his researches within the limits of natural philosophy. He often told me, that he felt deeply grateful to my father for having led him from earhest childhood to reverence religion, and impressed on his mind the fundamental truth, that matters of divine revelation are not to be tried, much less condemned, at the tribunal of human reason. This maxim, often repeated by a father whom he deeply reverenced, and whose teachings on other sub jects were always sustained by clear and powerful ar guments, became so firmly rooted in his soul, that even in early youth, he looked upon infidels as men whose assertion of the universal sovereignty of hu man reason places them on a false foundation, and 52 JAQUELINE PASCAL. betrays theU entire ignorance of the nature of faith. His noble, expansive spirit, while it eagerly thirsted for knowledge, and made diligent search into the mysteries of science, was yet, in the concerns of re ligion, humble as a Uttle child. This principle of un questioning faith governed his whole life, and when in after-years his thoughts were completely engrossed with spiritual realities, to the exclusion of every other topic, he never busied himself with curious or enticing questions of theology, but bent his soul's full strength to the attainment of Christian holiness, dedicating to this object every talent he possessed, and meditating day and night upon the law of his God." Up to this time, however, (1646,) the piety of the family, though sincere and active, was not enhght ened (6claire}. " This expression," says Reuchlin, " so characteristic of Port Royal, whUe, on the one hand, it comprehends a careful observance of church rules, frequent confession and communion, and the practice of good works, on the other includes the truth, that God's service and the world's can never be united, and that man can only obtain eternal salvation as the free gift of God's grace." The experience of renewed hearts, however differing in minor details, however alloyed with more or less of error, is everywhere sub stantially the same. " Not by works of righteousness which we had done, but according to his mercy he saved us," had been the watchword of the great Apostle of the Gentiles, and of Luther in liis fierce THE YOUNG POETESS AT ROUEN. 63 battle with Rome ; and now these obscure members of that apostate communion having grasped the same blessed truth, were treading in the footsteps of their Lord, and causing others to take knowledge of them that they had been with Jesus. " The edifying dis course and exemplary lives of their visitors," says Madame Perier, " made my father, brother, and sister wish to read the books which had aided them in at taining to so great a degree of holiness, and this was their first acquaintance with the works of Jansenius, M. de St. Cyran, Arnauld, and others that were of great service to them." Blaise was the first to set the example of holiness and self-denial, to taste the hap piness of solitary communion with the Lord of angels and of men, and to rest his whole hope of salvation on the righteousness of his Redeemer. He at once endeavored to make his sister Jaqueline a partaker of this new-found joy, and she, although, as we have seen, her genius and amiabUity made her the darling of society, could not long withstand his loving en treaties and example. Thenceforth, she called herself his spiritual daughter. Her father in like manner be came the child of his children, learning from them to give hiraself, heart and life, to God. M. and Madame Perier visited Rouen that same year, and became the subjects of a simUar change. The whole famUy placed themselves under the tuition of Pastor GuiUe bert, who made no half work with his converts. Mar garet Perier, in her Memoirs, gives us a specimen of 54 JAQUELINE PASCAL. his dealings and their effect : " My father and mother sat under the ministry of M. GuiUebert, Doctor of the Sorbonne, a very holy and discreet man. He counselled my mother, who was then twenty -six years old, to lay aside all her ornaments, and wear no trim mings on her dresses, which she cheerfully did. Af ter she had staid at Rouen for two years, wearing the most unpretending attire, she was obhged to return to Clermont. M. GuiUebert then told her that he had an important piece of advice to give her, and it was this : That ladies whose piety prevented them from wearing ornaments, often took pleasure in decorating their children, and that she must be careful to avoid doing so, gay dress being far more injurious to chUdren who are naturally fond of it, than to grown persons who, knowing its frivolity, care but little for it. Accord ingly, on her return to Clermont, in the fall of 1648, where she had left my sister, then a Uttle over four years old, and myself, then not quite three, she found that my grandmother, who had charge of us in her absence, had dressed us both in frocks embroidered with sUver, and fully trimmed with ribbons and lace, as was then the fashion. My mother took everything off and clad us in gray camlet, without lace or ribbon. She forbade our nurse to let us play with two httle girls of our own age in the neighborhood, whom be fore our mother came we had seen every day, lest we should acquire a love for the gay garments they usu ally wore. She was so particular on this point, that THE YOUNG POETESS AT ROUEN. 55 in 1651, when my grandfather Pascal died, and she was obliged to be present in Paris at the settlement of his estate, she chose to incur the expense of taking us with her, for fear that my grandmother would make us dress in finer clothes, if we were left undei her care. She always taught us to wear the most sim ple and modest clothing, and I can say with truth, that since I was between two and three years old, I have never worn either gold, sUver, colored ribbons, curls, or laces." " About the close of that year (1646), M. de Bellay, the bishop of that see, was holding an ordination at Rouen, and my sister," says Mad. Perier, "who had not yet been confirmed, wished to receive that sacra ment. For this she prepared accorduig to the hmts she had found in the writings of M. de St. Cyran, and we may believe that she then really received the influences of the Holy Ghost, since her character from thenceforward was completely changed." To this period of her life. Dr. Reuchlin is of opin ion that the foUowing letter, addressed to her sister, belongs, although its date, as found in the Jansenist collection of manuscripts, is two years earlier.* It seems to express the state of mind with which Jaque- Une for the first time partook of the communion, and * These manuscripts are not so remarkable for accuracy iu dates as they are for rough outlines of chai-anters and events. The letter it self refers to the works of SingUn, and Jaqueline was unacquainted with the Jansenist authors before her father met with his accident. 56 JAQUELINE PASCAL. breathes throughout the unmingled rapture of a new born soul : March 24, 1644 (1646). My Dear Sister, I only received yours of January 22d last evening, but it brought me no small comfort. I am heartily glad of the happy meeting you speak of; it really seems a special favor vouchsafed to me, and all the greater, because so en tirely undeserved. If you were my confessor, I might explain this more fully, but as it is, you must not fail to plead earnestly in your devotions, that our Lord and his Mother may obtain for me, by the merits of His death, that grace I so greatly need. And you will not forget all our family, nor yet the na tion ; so that I shall not speak of them here. Only I beg that one of your subjects of prayer next Thursday may be the public manifestation, or at least a private manifestation to cer tain persons of an important fact now concealed, though its effects are wonderful. You must say, as did Jesus, "Father, if it be possible," which means, " if it be for Thy glory," add ing, at the same time, "Thy will be done," and implore that God would deign to send His own light into their hearts rather than their intellects. This has for some time past been the burden of many of my prayers. I mean of those prayers which are only, as M. de St. Cyran says, the heart's desire. I repeat my request for you to join me in supplicating for this thing, about which my anxiety is excessive, though chiefly lest any thing should be said or done contrary to God's command. If you were here, what a relief it would be to open my whole heart to you ! God has denied me this consolation. Blessed be his Holy name ! I will try not to wish for that which He does not see fit to grant. One advantage, certainly, belongs to Christians. If they are prohibited frora joining in this world's pleasures, they are also foibidden to grieve over its misfortunes, and even told to rejoice in them. Now as tho latter are of far raore frequent occurrence than tl;e fomier, tlia THE YOUNG POETESS AT ROUEN. 57 believer's joy must necessarily be more uninterrupted. There fore our Lord Jesus Christ says, " Your joy no man taketh from you,'' and we are bound to feel with the Apostle, who, on another topic, exclaims, " How can he be afflicted, whose very sorrows turn into joy ?" When I perceive that this looks like an attempt at giving you instruction, which God forbid that I, having neither right nor qualification, should presume to do, I remember that M. Singlin remarks, "That our prayers to God are not meant to remind Him of our wants, which, as our Lord says, ' are all known to Him before we ask,' but are ofiered in order that we may ourselves remember them." I say the same to you, once for all, so do not forget it. Pray to God for me, with your whole heart, and give Him thanks for his mercies to us all, but offer up special prayers and praises on my brother's ac count. I am writing just what comes into my head. Once more, pray for me ; I need it. Ask of God that He would, BO to speak, pass a sponge over the time I have wasted, tho opportunities I have neglected, and the favorable moments I have let slip, for they are innumerable. Entreat Him to ac cept the obedience I render him by receiving blessings of which I am unworthy. 3* fart foaaL The intense industry with which Blaise Pascal ap plied himself to study, was a great injury to his health. He himself said that from the age of eighteen, he had never known what it was to be free from pain for a single day, although his sufferings were not always equally severe. His sister, Mad. Perier, has given us some idea of what he had to bear. " Besides other inconveniences, he was unable to swallow any liquid unless it was made lukewarm, and aUowed to trickle drop by drop down his throat. In order to reheve his intolerable headaches, the great inward fever, and other aUments to which he was subject, his physicians ordered him to take certain medicines every alternate day for three months. These had to be swallowed in the same tedious, lukewarm way ; a process which seldom faded to nauseate all who witnessed it, though the patient never once complained. For a long period his lower Umbs were paralyzed, and he could not move without crutches, his feet were cold as marble, and to procure any warmth in them, he had to wear stock ings dipped in brandy." PORT ROYAL. 59 The Fifteen Prayers in which Pascal pleads for grace to make a right use of sickness, were probably composed at this time. A few sentences have been translated as specimens of the rest. " 0 Lord, who art in all things so good and compassionate that not only the prosperity, but the humiliations of Thine elect ones, are the efi'ects of Thy mercy, keep me by Thy grace from behaving like a heathen in the low estate to which Thou hast most justly reduced me, and may I, as a true Chris tian, always acknowledge Thee to be my Father and my God. For the changes in my condition afi^ect not Thee. Whatever vicissitudes befall me, Thou art the same, and none the less God when Thou dost afflict and punish, than in my seasons of ease and indulgence. — And since the strong corruption of ray nature has rendered Thy former blessings (of health) in jurious, grant, Lord, that Thy all-powerful grace may now make Thy chastenings the means of restoring my spiritual health. Either through bodily weakness, or the strength of divine love in my soul, may I become incapable of enjoying the world, and find in Thee my chief delight. — Cause me, O Lord, to adore in silence the way in which Thy gracious Providence has meted out my days ; let Thy rod comfort me, and having in my prosperity tasted the bitterness of sin, may I, in this season of salutary affliction, experience the heavenly sweetness of Thy grace. Open Thou my heart, and take pos session ofthat rebellious place which sin has occupied ; bind Thou the mighty enemy who rules there, and then appropriate his treasures ; seize my afiections now stolen by the world ; rob Thou the robber, or rather reclaim what is Thine own, by right of creation and redemption. — 0 my God, how happy is the heart that loves an object so attractive as Thyself, so bless ed in its influence on the worshipper, so incapable of shaming trust I — Far, Lord, from pretending that there is any merit in my prayers, or any nece-^sity compelling Thee to grant them, 60 JAQUELINE PASCAL. I desire to bless Thee for the right emotions Thou dost inspire, and even for the wish to ascribe their origin to Thee. Teach me, I pray Thee, that bodily pains are at once the emblem and consequence of spiritual disease. O that they might also be its remedy by leading me to consider the far more danger ous though invisible ulcers of my soul, and to look unto Thee for help and healing. Enable me to feel that deep repentance without which physical suffering is but a new occasion of sin ; graciously mingle Thy consolations with my pains, and hielp me to bear them in a Christian spirit. I ask not exemption from trial, which isthe recompense of glorified saints, but oh, let not my natural anguish be unsoo thed by the comforts of the Holy Ghost, for this is the curse of Jews and pagans, and while I suffer, may I experience that sorrow for sin, and that satisfaction in Thy supporting grace, which are among the privileges of the true Christian. — Grant, 0 Lord, that with a continual and calm serenity, I may submit to every event, in the conviction that I know not what to pray for as I ought, and that by presumptuously demanding any special favor, I must become responsible for results which Thou hast in Thy wisdom hidden. Lord, I know myself to be certain of but this one thing : it is good to follow Thee, — it is evil to offend Thee. Beyond this, I am ignorant of what is best or worst for me, whether sickness or health, poverty, wealth, or any earthly allotment. Such discernment passes the power of man or angel, and belongs to those secrets of Thy Providence which I adore, but seek not to fathom. Make me, therefore, always content with Thy will ; — being now sick, may I glorify Thee in my sufferings, knowing that without them I cannot attain unto glory, and that Thou, O my Saviour, didst choose to be made perfect thereby. The marks of Thine agony once revealed Thee to Thy waiting disciples, and Thou doat still set on Thy followers the seal of tribulation. Number me among them, and since nothing can be acceptable to the Father unle.ss offered by Tlioe, blend, Master, my will with PORT ROYAL. 61 Thine, and my pains with those Thou didst endure. Unite me to Thyself, and fill me with Thy Holy Spirit. Enter into my heart and soul, there to share my sorrows and to com plete in me the measure of Thy suff'erings which yet remains to be endured by Thy members, until the perfect consummation of Thy body the Church, so that, being one with Thee, I shall no longer live or suffer of myself, but Thou, 0 my Saviour, wilt live and suffer in me, and having thus endured but a sraall part of Thine anguish. Thou wilt one day fill me with the glory it has won for Thee, wherein Thou livest with the Father and the Holy Ghost, world without end. Amen." As soon as Pascal's health was a little improved, he determined to make a visit to Paris, and consult the physicians there. Jaqueline accompanied him. Dur ing their stay, his reputed attainments in science gain ed him attentions from many distinguished men, among whom was the celebrated Descartes, well known as one of the greatest mathematicians and thinkers of his age.* He was also an amateur physi- * Descartes was a wonderful example of patient self-denial and love of truth. He devoted thirty years of his life to philosophic in vestigations, and lived ia the midst of Paris like a hermit, till, im agining that the air of the capital was unfavorable to thought, he withdrew to Holland, and there spent many years in the discovery and promulgation of what he believed to be truth. Being driven thence on a charge of atheism, he returned to Paris, where new per secutions awaited him, and he died, at the age of 54, in exile, undei the patronage of Queen Christina of Sweden. The celebrated axiom, Jepense, don.cje suis, "I fhink, therefore I am," became the founda tion of his vast system of philosophy, which was constructed by dint of persevering labor, aud long regarded with reverence, although in consistent with after-diicovericfs, and in some respects with Eevela- 62 JAQUELINE PASCAL. cian, and h&pes were entertained that his skUl might be useful in the treatment of Pascal's complicated aUs. JaqueUne sent Mad. Perier an account of the inter view. A brief sketch of Pascal's experiments on the Weight of the Atmosphere may not be out of place here. The mechanical properties of the atmosphere had engaged the attention of Galileo, who recognized its weight, but faUed to discover that that weight, joined with its fluidity and elasticity, opposed a definite force to any agent by which the removal of the atmosphere from any space was attempted. This resistance had long been observed and was expressed, but not ex plained by the term " nature's abhorrence of a vacu um." GalUeo, however, being aware of the fact thai suction-pumps would not raise water more than about thirty feet high, expressed it by saying, that thirty-five feet was the Umit of " nature's abhorrence of a vacu um," since above that height a vacuum still remain ed. Torricello, Galileo's pupU, gave this problem his careftU attention. " He argued that if the weight of the atmosphere were the direct agent by which the column of water is sustained in a pump, the same agent must needs exert the same amount of force in sustaining a column of any other liquid, and therefore, that if a heavier Uquid were used, the col umn sustained would be less in height exactly in the same proportion as the weight of the Uquid forming thg column was greater. Mercury, the heaviest known PORT BQYAL. §3 liquid, appeared the fittest for this purpose. The ex periment was eminently successful. The weight, bulk for bulk, of mercury was fourteen times greater than that of water, and accordingly it was found that in stead of a column of thirty-five feet being supported, the column was only thirty inches, the latter being exactly the fourteenth part of thirty-five feet."* Torricello's death prevented his pushing the inquiry further, but the particulars of it were communicated to Pasoal, who at once applied himself to the discovery of some experimental test of a nature so unanswer able as to set the question at rest forever, f" He ar gued, that if the weight of the incumbent atmosphere were the real agent which sustained the mercury in TorriceUo's tube, as it was iaferred to be by that phU- osopher, anything which would diminish that weight ought to diminish in the same proportion the height of the mercurial column. To test this, he first con ceived the idea of producing over the surface of the mercury in the cistern wherein the end of the tube was immersed, a partial vacuum, so as to diminish the pressure of the air upon it. But apprehending that this experiment would hardly be suficiently glar ing to overcome the prejudices of the scientific world, he proposed to carry the tube containing the mercurial column upwards in the atmosphere, so as gradually to leave more and more of the incumbent weight below * See Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopedia, article Pascal. t Ibid, page 193 far^ntal #|i||ositt0iu The elder Pascal was recalled from Normandy in 1648, the Parliament having demanded, at the com mencement of the struggles known as the wars of the Fronde, that all government commissioners should be removed from the provinces. He was appointed Coun ciUor of State on his return to Paris, which took place in the beginning of May. " M. Singlin," says Madame Perier, " thought he ought to be told of my sister's resolution, since she had quite decided to become a nun. My brother un dertook to tell him, as there was no one else who could. The proposal surprised and strangely agitated my father. On the one hand, having begun to love the principles of a pure Christianity, he was glad to have his children like-minded ; but, on the other, his affection for my sister was so deep and tender, that he could not resolve to give her up forever. These con flicting thoughts made him at first answer, that he would see and think about it. But finally, after some vacillations, he told him plainly that he would never give his consent, and even complained that my bro PARENTAL OPPOSITION. 105 ther had encouraged the plan without knowing whether it would meet his approval. This consid eration made him so angry with my brother and sis ter, that he lost his confidence in them, and ordered an old waiting woman who had brought them both up to watch over their movements. This was a great restraint upon my sister, for she could not go to Port Royal except by stealth, nor see M. Singlin without some contrivance and dexterous excuse." Our sympathies are strongly enlisted on behalf of the poor father, whose resentment at finding both his children in league to deprive him of Jaqueline's so ciety was perfectly natural and justifiable. Yet it is but fair to add, that the latter's friends at Port Eoyal were very far from advising her to be disobedient. No Jesuitical casuistry was interposed by them be tween her conscience and the plain command of God, " Obey your parents in all things." Their upright, elevated, self-sacrificing characters, so beautifully de veloped in Jaqueline's subsequent history, as written by herself, had no afS,nity with that detestable maxim, " the end sanctifies the means." On the contrary, it was their endeavor to strengthen her faith, and en courage her in patient submission, by assurances like these : — *" You are already a nun, my dear sister, because you have * Letters of the M6re Agnes to Jaqueline Pascal. The extracts in the text are taken from letters of different dates, all referring to tlie same subject, but too long to be inserted in full. 106 JAQUELINE PASCAL. determined to obey the call which God has given you ; but you will cease to be one, if you wish to forestall the precise moment of your profession, which (xod has put in his own power ; and until it arrives. He will withhold from you its pe cuUar mercies." "Yesterday, we had an admirable sermon from M. SingUn ; I could have wished you had been there, but for the fear that it might have excited your desire (of tak ing the veil), and made your present state of suspense more painful. God is now punishing you for your past indifference to His claims. Our hunger and thirst after righteousness may be long-protracted but cannot expiate our past distaste for holy things.'' " God himself often suppUes the wants for which we have in vain had recourse to creatures." " Your letters, my dear sister, show us plainly that the hour is not yet come ; it is therefore our duty to wait for it in perfect submis sion to God's decrees, on which all our welfare depends. You do not doubt that God is all-powerfiil ; but we are too apt to long for His power to take precedence of His vrill, so that we may be indulged in our own will, which we beUeve to be His also ; but this is not always the case. He ofl;en suflfers us to feel desires which He does not intend to fulfill, and manifests this by the hindrances that His providence interposes. There fore, we ought to receive such delays with as much satisfaction as if our wishes had been gi-anted. They seem to rae, my dear sister, a sign that God is trusting himself in us, or rather trusting the grace which He has given us, and which He knows to be so strong that it will not falter, so persevering that it cannot fail." " Ife is your duty to foUow God's guid ance, and to endure vvith meekness the delays occasioned by His providence. There is quite as much sin in wishing to prevent* the will of God, as there would be in not obeying it at the proper time. If you do not possess your soul in peace and perfect submission, you must cease the repetition of the Lord's prayer, for the phrase ' Thy will be done on earth as * Here used in the old sense of prevent, to go before. PARENTAL OPPOSITION. 107 it is in heaven' includes the renunciation of every possible wish which does not harmonize with God's will. I do not be lieve, dear sister, that you can desire to have things arranged in any other way than as God chooses ; for a conventual life will not make you what He designs to have you become, un less you enter upon it in accordance with His will, and at the hour of His appointment. Our Saviour now says to you as He once did to His apostles, ' It is not for you to know the times or the seasons which the Father hath put into his own power.' You are bound to accept the answer given you by your father, as a decree of God, who sees fit to reserve some other season for the gracious fulfilment of those desires which His grace has inspired within you. There are persons who would be un faithful to God, did they not hasten to obey His inward moni tions ; you, on the contrary, would be greatly in fault if ypu were not to submit to the delays He has ordained for you. And you are to do this, not raerely because you must, but wilhngly, by calmly yielding to God's appointments, and thus making your necessary obedience a voluntary one. For the words of Scripture are true, ' The law is not made for a right eous man,' which means that the will of the just being one with God's will, they obey His laws and precepts in perfect liberty, without any constraint. And if you are not able to do this fully, try at least to submit in the manner that our Saviour taught us, when, partaking of the infirmities of our nature, he said unto his Father, ' Nevertheless, not my will, but Thine be done,' thereby showing that He was conscious of a will which shrank from the death appointed for Him by God's will." " I have no message for you from our mother (Angelique), but she feels as truly your spiritual mother as if you were already within the convent-walls. Those who love God have the advantage of loving their neighbors with sin cerity, and pouring out their heart before Him on their be half. May we be of their number, my very dear sister, and let the dying woids of our departed friend be engraved upon 108 JAQUELINE PASCAL. our souls, ' Happy they who know none but God, and who are satisfied with God.' " " Neither the Ufe of a nun, nor any other mode of life, can produce this state of heart ; yet with out it all external worship is vain, and even onr very prayers are fruitless, if the soul does not submit itself entirely to God, and find its nourishment in doing His will, according to our Saviour's words, ' My meat and my drink is to do the will of my Father.' " Let us now see the effect of these salutary counsels on Jaqueline. " The difficulties she met with," says Madame Perier, " did not lessen her zeal, and having renounced the world in heart, she no longer took the same delight in amusements as formerly. So that, al though for awhUe she carefuUy concealed her inten- tention of devoting herself to God, it was easUy per ceived, and then finding that she could no longer hide it, she gradually withdrev^ from society, and broke off suddenly from all her acquaintance. For this, a favor able opportunity was offered by my father's changing his residence. She made no acquaintances in her new neighborhood, and escaped from her old ones by never visiting them. Thus she found herself at Uberty to live in solitude, which became so pleasant to her that she insensibly retired even fr-om the famUy circle, and sometimes spent the whole day alone in her own chamber. It is impossible to say how she employed herself in this perfect solitude, but each day it could be perceived that she was visibly growing in grace, and though under many restrictions, she did not give up her occa.sional visits to Port Eoyal, nor her corre- PARENTAL OPPOSITION. 109 spondence with its inmates, which she managed with much tact." A letter of JaqueUne's to her father, requestmg leave to make a fortnight's " retreat"* at Port Eoyal, has been preserved. Its eager yet submissive tone shows how ardent was her longing for a monastic life ; and probably won the permission requested. The next document concerning Jaqueline is an other joint letter from herself and Pascal to Madame Perier : — Paris, Nov. 5, afternoon, 1648. My dear Sister, Your letter brought back the remembrance of a dis pute, so fully at an end, as to be quite forgotten. Our expla nations did indeed revive old grievances, but at the same time our apologies softened my father's resentment. We repeated what you had already said, not knowing that you had said it, and afterwards made verbal excuses, like those which you had written, not knowing that you had sent them. For we were not aware of your proceedings until after we had ourselves (lone the very same, but as we had no secrets from my father, hu explained to us the whole, and did away with our suspi cions. You know how their misunderstandings interfere with the peace of home, both externally and internally, and how greatly one needs such a warning as you sent us when it was too late. And now we have a little private scolding for youi-self. In the first place, what made you say that you had learnt every thing in your letter from me ? For I have no recollection of * The name given to a peri.5d of weeks or months passed in a con\eut by one not of the ho,ijo, in the seclusion and sharing the services of its regular inmates. 110 JAQUELINE PASCAL. having spoken to you on the subject, which seemed quite new to me. And were what you say true, I should fear that you had learnt the lesson in a wrong spirit, or else you would have lost the remembrance of the human teacher, in thinking of God, who alone can make the truth effectual. If it has done you any good, that good comes from God alone, without whose aid neither you nor any other person can learn aright. And although in this sort of gratitude, we do not look upon men as the actual authors of the blessings we receive by their means, yet they are too apt to rival God in our esteem, espe cially if our souls be not thoroughly purified from those carnal tendencies which tempt us to consider the channels of good as its source. Not that we are to be ungrateful or forgetful of those who have instructed us, when duly authorized, as priests, bishops and confessors are. They are teachers, and other men are their disciples. But it is very different in our case ; and as the angel refused to be worshipped by one who was his fellow^ servant, so we raust beg you not to pay us such compUraents again, nor to use the expressions of human gratitude, since we are but learners, like yourself. And, in the second place, why do you say that it is needless to repeat these things, because we already know them well ? We are afraid that you do not make a sufficient distinction between the things of which you speak, which are holy, and those of every-day life. Doubtless, when the latter are once fixed in the memory, they need no repetition, but it is not so with divine things. To have comprehended these once, though in a right way, I mean by the help of God's Spirit, is not enough to make us retain the knowledge of such truths, even if we perfectly remember them. It is as easy to learn an epistle of St. Paul by heart, and to retain it in the memory, as a book of Virgil ; but the knowledge thus acquired and thus preserved, is but an effort of memory. In order that we may penetrate its hidden meaning, the same grace which first PARENTAL OPPOSITION. Ill raade truth clear to us, must continue to preserve it in our hearts, by daily writing it anew on those fleshly tablets. Just as God perpetually renews the happiness of glorified saints, which is at once the work and the result of grace, — and as the Church holds that the Father continually produces the Son, and maintains the eternity of His being by an effu sion of His own substance, without interruption and without end. Thus, the perseverance of the saints is neither more nor less than God's grace, perpetually imparted, and not given once for all, in a mass that is to last forever, which teaches us how completely we are dependent on God's mercy, for if He should for a moment withhold the sap of His grace, we must of necessity wither away. Therefore, it is plain that we are bound always to make new efforts to gain a newness of heart, because we can only retain the grace we already possess by acquiring new grace. Otherwise, we should lose that grace which we hoped was our own, just as those who would shut in light, find themselves shut up in darkness. And we ought to strive daily to purify the soul, which is daily soiled with fresh spots before the old ones are effaced, and cannot, unless by assiduous cleansing, be made meet to receive that new wine, which must not be put into old bottles. Fear not, therefore, to remind us of things we already know. They need to sink deeper into our hearts, and your discourse will be more likely to fix them there, than if the idea remain ed undisturbed in our memories. And, besides, divine grace is vouchsafed in answer to prayer, and your love for us is one of those prayers which go up without ceasing. For the same reason, we should never decUne to hear or read of holy things, no matter how common or familiar they may be, since our memory, like the teachings it retains, is but a lifeless, formal body without God's vivifying Spirit. And jt often happens that God makes use of these outward methods to make us comprehend His own ti'uths, and thereby gives less scope to 112 JAQUELINE PASCAL. human vanity. A book or sermon of the most ordinary kind may produce more effect on any one who studies them atten tively, than the most elaborate discourses, which often please more than they profit. We sometimes see, that persons lis tening to the truth in a right spirit, though ignorant and even stupid, are affected by the simple mention of God, and the threat of eternal punishment, which is all they understand, and which they knew very well before. In the third place, you say that you only write on reUgious subjects, to let us know that you share our feelings, and for this we both praise and thank you. We honor your perse verance, and thank you for having thus proved it. We had already learned as much from M. Perier, and being sure, from what he told us, of the state of your mind, we can only ex press our gladness by asking you to imagine what your own joy would be, if you were to hear the same good news of us. We have nothing special to say to you, unless about the plan of your house.* We know that M. Perier is too ear nest in what he undertakes, to be able to give full attention to two things at once ; and the whole plan is so extensive, that if he carry it out, it must engross his thoughts for a very long time. True, he only expects to rear a part of the edifice, but that, besides being large in itself pledges him to finish the re mainder, in spite of every resolution, as soon as the present obstacles are removed ; especially if he spends the time in building which he ought to employ in overcoming its fascina tions. So we have advised him to build on a more moderate . self all other precedent mysteries, since they were all to ter minate in that wonderful death which alone could effect the salvation of the world. And in like manner, none of those holy desires, emotions, and actions which God inspires within us, can reach their fuU perfection, nor aid us in the attainment of holiness, until our self-will is entirely dead, and happily swallowed up in God's will. When this is done, we cannot fail of experiencing that resurrection which gives eternal Ufe to a soul that has renounced the principle of spiritual death, * Auton de Rebours, one of St. Cyran's disciples, who, though pre ferring a life of entire solitude, had been induced by Singlin to enter the priesthood, and share with him the duties of confessor to the nuns and novices of Port Royal. c 122 JAQUELINE PASCAL. namely, self-will. Let us therefore try, ray dear sister, to re alize that it is the privilege of our heavenly calling to dio daily, and let us not shrink frora crucifying our own inclina tions many times a day, if we may thereby honor Hira whose death has procured for us eternal life. JaqueUne's reflections on this subject, though not equal in point of style to her brother's writings, dis play much vigor of thought, and it was at one time proposed to publish them in connection with Pascal's celebrated posthumous work. They were afterwards issued at the close of the " Conferences of ihe Venerable Mother Marie Angelique Arnauld." Brussels, 1757. '^ In September, 1651," says Madame Perier, " my father was seized with the illness of which he died, and my sister devoted herself to attendance upon him by day and night, with the utmost zeal and assiduity. She may be said to have done nothing else, for when her presence was not needed in his room, she with drew to her own apartment, where, as she herself told me, prosteating herself, she prayed for him incessant ly with tears. But God, notwithstanding, did accord ing to His own wUl, and my father died, September 24th. We were at once informed of it, (being then at Clermont,) but my state of health prevented us from reaching Paris before the last of November." JaqueUne announced the calamity to Madame Pe rier, and gave the detaUs of their father's iUness, and Blaise soon afterwards wrote a consolatory letter in her name and his own, to their relatives at Clermont. The whole epistle is very beautiful, but too long for insertion here. A few of the more striking passages have therefore been selected for translation : In our tiiuls, we are not to look for consolation in ourselves 124 JAQUELINE PASCAL. in man, or in any created thing, but in God. And the reason of this is, that creatures are not the primary cause of those events which we call sorrows ; therefore, since God's provi dence is the sole cause, arbiter, and sovereign of all that be falls us, we ought unquestionably to trace back eveiy occur rence to its source and origin in God's will, in order to consid er it rightly. Follovping this rule, we should regard this event (his father's death) not as the effect of chance, not as a fatal necessity of nature, which makes man the football of the ele ments, or the victim of his own internal structure, (for God has not abandoned his elect to caprice or chance ;) but we should look upon the death that has occurred as an indispen sable, inevitable, wise, and righteous consequence of the de crees of God's providence, for the welfare of the Church, and the glory of His own great name, which was destined before the world was, to take place in the fulness of time, in the very year, the very day, the very hour, the very place and raanner, foreseen and foreordained of God from all eternity. If, there fore, the power of grace enables us to consider this event, not in itself, and apart from God, but in its proper position as one of the mysteries of the divine will, — that will which is al ways righteous in its decrees, and orderly in its arrangements, — we shall look upon God as the true cause of our bereave ment, since without His will it could not have happened, and His will prescribed the exact time and mode in whioh it did happen ; we shall adore in humble silence the impenetrable grandeur of His couusfk, we shall reverence the justice of His decrees, v,e shall bless the arrangements of His provi dence, and blending our will with God's will, we shall desire, with Him, in Him, and for Him, the things which He has or dained in us and for us from all eternity. Let us view death in the Ught of those truths taught us by the Holy Ghost We shal! thus gain the infinite advantage of knowing that death is the penalty of sin, inflicted upon man originally as the punishment of sin, and now necessary THE NOVICE. 125 tw deliver him from its power. Death alone can set God's people entirely free from that corrupt and carnal nature with which they come into the world. We know also that life — the life of a believer — ought to be a continual burnt-ofiering. Our Saviour, when on ealrth, considered hiraself as a sacrifice, and ofiered up himself to the Father as a holocaust, and an actual victim. His birth, his life, his death, his resurrection and ascension, his presence with his people, and his continual priesthood at God's right hand, constitute one unique and complete sacrifice. Now what happened to Jesus as Head of the Church, must necessarily be partaken of by all his members ; we are, consequently, to look upon our lives as a sacrifice, and the accidents of life ought to afiect the minds of Christians only by tho degree in which they interrupt or accomplish that sacrifice. Let us then view death in Jesus Christ, and not without Him. Without Christ, death is naturally an object of detes tation and dread. In Cliii.st, all is changed, and death be comes lovely, holy, — the object of the believer's desire and joy. In Christ all things are pleasant, and work together for our good. Death is no exception, for Christ suffered and died, that He might sanctify death and sorrow. As God and man, he experienced the two extremes of majesty and meanness, and in so doing, he sanctified everything save sin, and became an example for us in every condition. Therefore let us not mourn as do the heathen who are without hope ; let us not obey the suggestions of nature, but the teachings of Scripture. Not looking upon our father as a man who has ceased to live, but as one who has just begun to live ; for his soul "has not perished— it is not annihilated— it lives, and is united to the Source of Life. Let the convic tion of this truth correct the erroneous feelings and the emo tions of horror at the thought of death, whioh are so deeply rooted in the nature of man. Not that we are to feel no regret. The blow is too painful. 126 JAQUELINE PASCAL. Without supernatural aid, it would be insupportable. It is not right for us to be without grief, even as the angels who are unconscious of sorrow, neither ought we to refuse comfort, as do the heathen in their ignorance of grace. But it is our duty to grieve and to receive consolation in a Christian spirit, to let the comforts of grace overcome our natural sorrow, and to say with the apostle, " Being afBicted, we give thanks." Thus grace will not only be in our hearts, but it will rule them, thus hallowing our Father's name. His will shall be done in us. His grace will reign over us, and our very afflic tions will become a sacrifice which the flame of His divine love shall kindle, consume, and destroy for His own glory. Thus too even our imperfections will forra a part of this holocaust, for sincere Christians endeavor to derive benefit fjom their past offences, because it is promised that all things shall work together for good to the elect according to God's purpose. A holy man once told me that one of the most advanta geous ways of showing our love for departed friends is to do as they would advise us, were they still living, to follow their holy counsels, and to endeavor to attain that state of holi ness in which they would delight to see ns. We thus cause them, as it were, to re\'ive in us, by obeying their wishes, and doing as they would have done in our place. Let us do this for our beloved father, striving, as in God's sight, to fill his place as far as we can, and let us take comfort in that union of hearts in which I feel as if he were still alive and with us. So that when we meet, his presence may appear to be in some degree restored to us, even as Jesus Christ is ever present in the assemblies and hearts of His people. May God awaken and maintain these feelings in us all, and continue in my heart that affection for you and my sister, which seems to me greater at this moment than it ever was before. I feel as if the love we used to lavish on my father ought nut to be lost, but to be gMtliered up and concentrated THE NOVICE. 127 on each other. The legacy of love he left us should be in vested in a deeper fraternal devotion, if that were possible. His loss is greater to me than to the othera. Had I lost him six years ago, I had been ruined, and though my need of him is not quite so absolute at the present time, it seeras as if he were necessary to me for the next ten years, and his presence would have been useful through my whole life. But we are bound to hope that since God has seen fit to take him away in the present time and raanner, the removal will prove in the and expedient for our salvation and His own glory. Strange as it may seem, I believe that we ought to look upon every event, no matter how dark or distressing, in this way, and to feel that God will make it an occasion of joy, if we commit it unto Him. Let us then place our souls and all our concerns in His keeping, and not suffer ourselves to be swallowed up of overmuch sorrow. The strong affection which Blaise here expresses for hia sisters, made the idea of parting with Jaqueline exceedingly distasteful to him. Mad. Perier says : " My brother was much comforted in his deep afilic- tion by her society, and he imagined that kindness would induce her to stay with him at least a year, and help him in recovering from this great calamity. He spoke of it to her in a way which plainly showed he felt sure that she would not dare to refuse him for fear of enhancing his grief : she was therefore obliged to conceal her intentions until we arrived. She then told me that she meant to take the veU as soon as the estate was divided, and that she should spare my brother's feelings by letting him think she was only going to make a Eetreat at Port Eoyal. She made all 128 JAQUELINE PASCAL. her arrangements for this in my presence. The divi sion of property was signed on the last day of Decem ber, and she fixed the 4th of January for her depart ure." It does not appear that Etienne Pascal left a very large fortune. His resolute probity had prevented him from amassing wealth by unfair means during his administration of affairs at Eouen, and we learn from Jaqueline herself that she felt it her duty to transfer a considerable part of her own share of the property to her brother. Mad. Perier thus describes her sister's departure : " The evening before, she begged me to mention it to my brother, in order that he might be prepared. I did so with aU the precaution I could, but though I told him she was only going to try for a Uttle while how that manner of living would suit her, yet he felt very much hurt, and moumfuUy shut himself up in his own room, without seeing my sister, who was then in a little anteroom, where she used to say her pray ers. She did not leave it till he was gone, fearing that the sight of her would give him pain. I told her the loving words he had said, and then we all retired for the night. But though I heartUy approved of her proceedings, because I believed that nothing could be a greater blessing to her, yet her wonderful resolution so astonished me and engrossed my thoughts, that I could not sleep. " About seven, finding that she did not get up, I THE NOVICE. 129 was afraid she had not slept any more than I, ano might feel Ul. So I went to her bed, where she laj sound asleep. The noise I made awaked her, and she asked what o'clock it was. I told her, and inquired how she felt, and if she had slept : she answered that she was weU, and had slept well. She rose, dressed, and went away ; doing this, as she did everything, yrith inconceivable calmness and evenness of spirit. We did not say good-bye, for fear of being overcome, and I turned aside from her path, when I saw that she was ready to depart. In this manner she bade the world farewell, January 4th, 1652, being then twenty- six years and three months old." Here ends Madame Perier's sketch of her sister's life. The touching simplicity of its close develops her own unselfishness, as well as Jaqueline's heroism, and the strength of Pascal's fraternal love. Once within the walls of Port Eoyal, Jaqueline was eagerly desirous of sealing her fate by the assumption, of the veU, but her brother's great reluctance to thisi step obliged her to write him a letter at once resolute and tender, wherein, while reminding him that she does not need his approbation, she earnestly implores it, and invites him to be present at the ceremony. M. Cousm thus characterizes it, "It is the letter both of a woman and a saint, it mingles the passion and ob stinacy, which belonged to the whole family, with a charming gentleness, and exprfigaes tbem in accents ti* 130 JAQUELINE PASCAL. of alternate command and meek entreaty." A few extracts wUl give some idea of its tone. Port Royal du Saint SAoaEMKNT, March 1, 1652. My veey dear Brother, I can give no stronger proof of ray wish that you may receive the intelligence I have to communicate with joy and calmness of soul, and a ready acknowledgment of God's goodness, than by selecting M. Hobier as my messenger. . . . . . For although I am now free, and God, whose chasten ings are favors, and who chastens those He loves, has chosen to remove the only legitimate obstacle* to the vows I desire to take, in the manner you are aware of, and I dare not name, lest a degree of sadness should mingle with my joy, yet I earnestly wish for your consent and approval, and I now, with the deepest afiection, request them. Not that they are necessary for the accomplishraent of my design, but, if you should withhold them, I could not fulfil it in peace and glad ness, nor with a tranquil soul God, indeed, by your means, first awakened in my soul the stirrings of His grace, but you know very well that He alone is the author of our love and delight in what is good. You have, therefore, the power of troubling my peace, but you cannot restore it, if, through your fault, I should once lose it. And you ought in some measure to judge of my affection by your own, and to consider that if I ara strong enough to persevere, despite your resistance, I may not have streng-th to bear up against the grief it will occasion me I know that nature uses all kinds of weapons in such confUcts, and that every means of escaping what she dreads seems allowable. Her sug gestions, too, will be fomented by your worldly acquaintances. . . . . Human praise is one of our great Adversary's most effectual methods of weakening the power of religion in * Alluding to the death of her father. THE NOVICE. 131 the soul. When he sees that violence cannot rend it away, he tries to wile it from us by the world's caresses. He for- meriy inspired persecutors with the idea of thus shaking the faith and constancy of martyrs, and even now suggests it to the best friends of Christ's church, in the hope of overcoming the constancy of the faithful. Resist this temptation boldly, if it should attack you, and if the worid shows some regret at seeing me no more, be you very sure that this regret is an illusion, for the worid caonot really love one who is not of it, who never will be, and whose chief desire is to destroy all its hold on her by a solemn vow The attractions and promises of earth are so vain and narrow, that if we do but exercise a Uttle reason, enlightened by faith and sustaino^ by grace, we shall find no difficulty in relinquishing •,/v3.v)ic- hand the things which in a few brief moments must be wrested from our grasp The thought of God's infinite love, which passeth understanding, as shown to a creature so unworthy, so overwhelms me, even while I write, that if I dared, I beUeve I should here confess the sins of my whole life, in order that we might both better comprehend the ex ceeding riches of His mei-cy. But this is needless, if you will only tax your memory to recall the time when I loved the world, and when my very knowledge and love of God in creased my guilt, because my heart was so unequally divided between two masters. I blush to remember how often you tried in vain to convince me that I could not unite two things so opposed as is the spirit of religion to that of the world. And oh what unceasing gratitude do we not owe to God for having dispelled this dangerous blindness! .... Do from a good motive that which you must do. Give up to God that which He is taking from you, for He loves to have us cheerfully bestow on Him that which it is His will to de prive us of. .... I have written to my sister, and now ask you to encourage and console her if necessary. I tell her that if she wishes it, and thinks it is in my power to fortify 132 JAQUELINE PASCAL. her raind, it will delight me to see her, but that if she comes in the hope of changing ray resolution, her pains wiU be thrown away. I say the same to you My invi tation to the ceremony is of course a mere form, for I do not imagine you would dream of staying away. If you did, you well know that I should give you up forever. Now do with a good grace that which yon will be forced to do ; I mean, do it in a spirit of kindness, and do not make me unhappy, for I cannot see that I have ever given you cause. Farewell, my very dear brother. Extract of a letter from Jaqueline Pascal to Mad. Perier : Poet Royal du Saint SAcaAMENT, May 10, 1652. There is nothing but sorrow everywhere, yet I am fall of joy, for the day when I am to take the veil is fixed for the feast of Trinity, by God's help, which I hope to have After so much opposition, it seems like a dream to find myself so ne&i" it. I shall fear that it is only an illusion, till the cere mony is really over. But I will not waste time in expatiating on my happiness, for you cannot doubt it. Enough, that the steadfastness of my determination proves that I have not mis taken ray caUing, and that I can say with David, '' As we have heard, so have we seen in the city of our God." I sent the news to my brother by M. Hobier, on Ascension Day. He came next morning, nearly wild with the terrible headache it had given him, yet very much softened, for in stead of the two years' delay he had asked the last time I saw him, he only wanted me to wait until All Saints' Day ; but seeing me determined not to put it off, aud yet complais ant enough to allow him a short time to get reconciled to the project, he gave up entirely, and even pitied me for having again to defer a thing which I had set my heart upon so long. Still he did not give his consent at once ; but M. d'Andilly,* * A brother of the Abbesses Annj^lique ?ind Agues. ^[. Arnauld THE NOVICE. 133 by my request, was kind enough to send for him on Satur day, and to argue with him so skilfully and cordiaUy, that he agreed to everything we wished, and we came to this conclu sion. He begged me, if possible, to put it off for a consid erable time, but if I would not do this, he was just as willing to have the ceremony take place on the first of Trinity as a fortnight later. Therefore that is to be the day, unless hin derances should arise from a quarter with which we have no thing to do. Pascal's strong unwilUngness to part with his sister, made him eagerly seize every pretext for delay, and to this motive must be ascribed that opposition to her plans which he now offered. Not wishing to be a burden on the convent of Port Eoyal, which was far from rich, she desired to bring with her a dowry, and thought that her share of her father's property ought to furnish it. To this her family at first objected, and the high-spirited JaqueUne resented their non-com- pUance most keenly. The influence of those false views of life and duty, the result of her education in an apostate Church, which led her to break off from all her associates, to bury every talent she had receiv ed, and to forsake the kindred dear as her own soul, made her unable to sympathise with their sorrow at losing her, or to brook their efforts to hold her back. Her sufferings from wounded affection were therefore severe, though perhaps in some degree unreasonable, dAndilly. The younger brothers iu a French family often take the name of some estate belonging to the family, to distinguish thera from tlie I'hler l)rother, who takes simply the family name. 134 JAQUELINE PASCAL. especially as her brother yielded to her wishes re' specting the property on finding that her being por tionless would not prevent her from taking the veU. JaqueUne afterwards explained the details of this affair in a Narrative written for the purpose of making known the disinterestedness of Port Eoyal, and ad dressed to the Prioress. Its great length prevents the transfer of more than a few paragraphs to these pages. She says, after having excused herself for writing at aU: . . . My resolution, which they thought so unkind, gave my friends a fine chance of moralizing over the instability of human affection. Had they stopped there, all Avould have been well, and their minds might have been occupied without distuibing mine, but there they did not stop. Each wrote to me in the same style, not saying that they felt aggrieved, but treating me as if they did, and responding to my propositions by an exact statement of my affairs, whereby it appeared that the nature of my property must prevent me from disposing of it under any circumstances, or in favor of any person what ever, partly because of an agreement made at its division, that all claims upon the estate should be settled from the property as a whole, and partly from other disingenuous reasons, which had my friends been less irritated, they would doubtless never have named. Not that these reasons were actually untrue, but thev were such as we had never been accustomed to use with one another Just think, my dear mother, how these letters made me feel ! written in a style so changed, and imposing on me besides the positive necessity of either deferring my profession as a nun some four years longer, in order to obtain the release of my property from the liens that held it in security for the remainder of the estate, and per- THB NOVICE. 135 haps, after all, not being able to free it entirely, or on the other hand having to endure the mortification of being receiv ed into the Convent gratuitously, and remaining a burden upon it. My grief became so violent, that it seems wonderful I ever lived through it. Mother Agnes sent for me as soon as she heard that I was in sorrow, and discovering that what afllicted me most was the apparent necessity of either giving up the cherished hope of many years, or of effecting it in a manner so painful to me, she tried to console me by saying that things eternal ought alone to awaken emotion ; that temporal misfortunes are never irreparable and do not deserve our tears, which should be reserved for the only true evil — sin, but require us, when they come, instead of wasting our time in sorrow, to set about devising the readiest means of relief; adding, with her usual kindness, that my troubles would be soon and easily ended, if her advice were followed, for leaving all my worldly affairs as they Were, my sole care would then be, to begin my cloistered life with a calm spirit. "We may not always be able," said she, "to obtain the privilege of being poor ; but we are always safe in wishing for and deUghting in it, and in rejoicing over every event that tends to impoverish us. When we are in prosperity, we should tremble and mourn over it as a snare and a hinderance to piety and lowliness of heart; and we ought not onlyto re joice when the wealth to which we are entitled is kept from us, but also when that which we did possess is snatched away, since we are thus relieved from its responsibility." In fact, dear mother, her various arguments almost com pelled me to rejoice over my affliction. Could I but have maintained that indifference, I should have become what she wished to see me. But I was too weak and sorrowful to be capable of such fortitude, and I acknowledge with shame that I soon relapsed into my former despondency. She afterwards directed me to inform M. Singlin of the whole affair, while she herself took the trouble of going to 136 JAQUELINE PASCAL. relate it to our mother.* Coming immediately back, she brought me word that in our Mother's opinion it was ray duty to leave my relatives to manage- my whole fortune as they would, and think only of my approaching profession. At first M. SingUn did not entirely agree with her, for he feared that th«re might be too much generosity and too little humility in the advice. He forcibly said that " when we have overcome that insatiable avarice of wealth which is almost universal, we ought to beware of falling into the opposite ex treme, and becoming greedy of praise, and ostentatious of our generosity, while we despise those who still cling to their property. For if our distinction consists in being above the love of money, as that of others does in its possession, we are likely, without great watchfulness, to perform actions seem ingly benevolent, but in reality prompted by the same princi ple of pride which causes some men to contend too earnestly for their rights, and otheis to yield them too easily. In all cases of this nature, we ought' to be neutral, and endeavor, unbiassed by personal interest, to ascertain what justice de mands on both sides." However, upon reflection, he agreed with our Mother ; and seeing how strenuously I opposed their decision, for I could not bear to let things go in that way, he told me that he knew my friends well, and was sure they were reasonable peo ple. Therefore, some misapprehension must undoubtedly have- made them unreasonable upon this point, and it was to be hoped that when we were able to meet and talk matters ovei-, they would of themselves act rightly by all parties, and thus I need not disquiet rayself .... There was nothing for me but submission to the course prescribed All I could do by way of lessening my mortification was to beg earnestly for admission as a lay-sister.f If my reception * Angelique, who was then at Port Royal de Paris. f The lay -sisters were eighteen iu number, ten being employed iu the ronvent ipf Paris, eight iu that of Des Champs. Ther had no THE NOVICE. 18t must be a gratuitous one, I thought that out of gratitude to the Sisterhood for the double favor of welcoming me without a dowry, I could do no less than serve them as a menial for the rest of my life But God, the Searcher of hearts, knew me to be unworthy of an office so honorable in His sight, and that my past and present pride needed a pun ishment instead of a reward. He, therefore, restrained M. Singlin from giving his consent. On examination my strength appeared insufficient for the duties of a lay-sister, and as this would oblige me to take more rest than my companions, they might imagine I was indulged for other reasons, and since re spect of persons is always hateful, and cbntrary to the spirit of love, which forbids distinctions to be made among sisters, ray petition was absolutely refused, and I had to leave every thing just as our Mother had arranged it. By order of M. Singlin, I wrote immediately to my fi-iends, stating my decision in words whioh he chose to dictate, lest my own should be too warm. He made rae use great discre tion in my account of the charity which was willing to receive me as a professed nun, without any demur on the ground that my affairs needed supervision, and would allow no expressions which might seem like a bravado or a device to pique their sense of honor. This letter could not be short, and it kept me busy till evening, so that I did not see our Mother (Angelique). But on the next day, as was her custom after her returning from Port Royal de Paris, she sent for all the novices, and being there, when my turn came to salute her, I could not help vote, were selected for their bodily strength, and employed in hard work, such uo cooking, baking, washing, taking care of cows and poultry, (Sic., but not in the service of the sick or infirm, lest they should be treated as inferiors, unless in case of emergency. They were not required either to pray so often or fast so much as did the other nuns. The maxim, " Laborare est Orard" (Work is prayer), was often repeated to them. They wore a gray dress and acapulary, and a white veil. 138 JAQUELINE PASCAL. saying that I was the only sorrowful one among aU the sistera who were delighted at her return. " What," said she, " is it possible, my daughter, that you are still sad ? Were you not prepared for aU you see ? Did you not long since learn that we should never lean on the friendship of creatures, and that the world only loves its own ? And is it not a happy thing that God makes this truth plain to you in the persons of those from whom you had least reason to expect such a les son, and thus removes all doubt of it from your mind. . . , Your previous resolutions are thus braced by a sort of inevit able necessity, and you may, in a certain sense, say that you are alone in the world." I answered, weeping, that I seemed to myself already so detached from it, as not to need such an experience. " God is showing you," said she, " that in this thought you are mistaken. If it were so, you would look upon all that has occurred with indifference, and be very far from grieving as you now do. You ought, therefore, to feel that God is granting you a great favor, and to make good use of it." She also talked to ine for some time on the emptiness of all human affection, keeping her arm round me with much tenderness, until I had to leave her and let others approach. Having noticed on the morrow that my looks were unusu ally sad, she left the choir before mass began, and sending for me, did her best to give me comfort. Not content with this brief effort of kindness, as soon as. mass was over she signed to me to follow her, and then supported my head on her bosom for a whole hour, caressing rae the while with all a mother's tenderness. I can truly say that she omitted no thing in her power that could charm away my distress. Would to God, dear mother, my mind had been clear and re tentive enough to have preserved the precious cordials distilled by her in the hope of sweetening my heart's bitterness. Then were my afl3iction indeed a gain, and I might now give you a rich treat. Since all is not lost, I desire to preserve the little I do remember, by imparting it to you in this letter, as THE NOVICE. 139 a relic, none the less precious though it be but a fragment • rescued from the great whole. She at first said to me with a gentle severity, " I cannot wonder enough, my daughter, to see you so overcome by a trifle. You so astonished me yesterday, by saying you were sad, that I did not know how to answer you ; for I supposed, of course, that you had already forgotten the past, because things being settled as they are, you have nothing further to do. I assure you that at first I could not tell what you meant, and it took me some little time to guess, and to recall the whole affair to my mind." My dejection was not deep enough to keep mo from se cretly admiring her power to forget so soon. But I, who was very far from possessing her rare virtue, could only an swer her with tears ; perceiving which, she anticipated the excuse I might have made, by saying : " Why do you weep ovej- this thing ? Or else why do you not weep as much over evei-y sin that is committed ? If you are thinking only of God's glory, and the spiritual welfare of your relations, why have you never shed as many tears over their graver faults and their raore heinous guilt in the sight of, God, as you now do over a slight failure in the kindness due to yourself ?" I told her, what I believed was true, that it was the injus tice done to the establishment that troubled me, and thatper- sonnUy I wiis neither hurt nor angry, but siraply indifferent. " You are mistaken, my daughter," said she, " nothing is more painful or hard to bear than wounded affection. I know that )'ou feel deeply the injustice done to the House, but your own share in this gives you a keener pang, for self-love mingles in everything we do, and is the main-spring of this mighty sor row." She was then so good as to give me the details of several such histories, without mentioning names. I suppose this was done as much for the sake of affording me that species of comfort deiivable from companionship in misery, as to 140 JAQUELINE PASCAL. • convince me that we never take the interests of justice equally to heart when the injustice committed does not concern us, as when it does. On my admitting the truth of this, she continued, " This occurrence has been a source of real and not unfounded joy to me, and were the value of the property twice as much, I would not but have had the trial come upon you before your taking the veil, because, while a probationer, you have not been sufficiently tried. You see, my sister, that it was an easy thing for you to renounce the world, God hav ing enabled you to perceive how vain and trifling are tbe amusements and gaieties of life, which please and fascinate other girls, — not that you were better than they, but that God had given you greater grace. And certainly you were veiy much detached from earth, but there yet remained two things for you to relinquish, of which you had not thought. One was your fortune, small indeed in a worldly point of view, but ample for a nun, whose expenses are next to nothing. The other, and the chief treasure of your family, was the close union and confidence which made aU your interests one, and on this you were unconsciously reposing. God sees fit to strip you of both, and to make you poor in every sense of the word, poorer even in friendship than in possessions, for these you were prepared to renounce. " You see, ray sister," she went on, " that whatever is done to gratify a recluse, seems thrown away. . . . There is a short story in the lives of the Fathers which illustrates this. A man of the world once went to visit his brother, who, after having long lived the life of a saint, had retired into solitude. He was greatly astonished to find him eating at the hour of nones, because formerly he fasted until vespers. The an chorite, perceiving this, said to him : ' Marvel not, my brother, this meal is a necessity and not an indulgence. In the world I needed it not, for my ears fed me : the praises earned by my austerities made me so comfortable in mind, that my body was strengthened, and I could, if needful, have borne twice THE NOVICE. 141 as rauch. But here— there ia nobody to speak a word, my self-love has nothing to feed upon, and I am forced, in spite of myself, to satisfy the cravings of nature, since there is no other satisfaction to be had.' " Persons living in the world feel inclined to obUge one an other because they are rewarded by gratitude and praise, but to render service to a recluse is quite another thing. Make up your mind, therefore, to retain no friends in the world after you have left it, and to expect no great proofs of personal re gard." Amohg many instances that she related to me of cases Uke mine within her own knowledge, was one in which the rela tions of a young lady of rank, after she had taken the veil, failed, most unexpectedly to her, iu fulfilling their promises " touching her dowry, which ought to have been large, and this at a time when the convent was in great need. " I assure you," said she, " that this injustice surprised and grieved me much ; for I had looked upou the thing as certain, judging from the manner in which the parties had always acted towards us. However, the late M. de St. Cyran advised me to endure this hardship, for it really was one, so calmly and patiently as not even to mention the subject to the delinquents, nor to show that I felt in the least hurt, but to behave as if I had forgotten it. And with a firm faith in Providence, he as sured me that if I did so, God would in some other way pro vide for our wants, and make^ up the loss. God," added she, "helped rae to believe this, $nd to follow his advice, which, indeed, I never felt at Uberty to disregard, and, as you see, I have since found the promise verified by perpetual experience. I, therefore, entreat you, my daughter, not to feel angry with your friends, not to manifest any resentment, or suffer this to alienate your affection from them. After aU, for what are you contending ? Only a little lucre, absolutely less than nothing L Ti-ue, as we cannot live without money, it is difl5cult to dis pense with it entirely, but then it rar';ly happens that we are 142 JAQUELINE PASCAL. so destitute as to be in actual want ; and luxuries we are for bidden to covet. When God sends us money in a legitimate way, we may receive it as a means of support, but when He does not send it, and even when he allows us to be deprived of it, truly we ought to rejoice. M. de St. Cyran used to sav, that in this world riches, like bodily humors, always settle in the weakest and most easily injured spot. I want you to remember this, because you are young, and may at some future day wit ness similar events to those now occurring in your own case ; and if you should ever be consulted in a like emergency, you will know what to advise, and can do as you have been done by. Therefore, write to your friends once more,'' she went on, " especially to her whose tenderness for you is deepest, express your own affection without reserve, and let them see that you have, in all sincerity, given up your fortune from the sole fear ' of paining thera, without any after regret. And when he (meaning Pasoal), who is shortly expected here, comes, speak to him in the same way ; do not reproach him, nor even look as if aught were amiss, but appear to have forgotten all, which you really ought long ago to have done, and I supposed you had, so that it quite surprises me to find you disturbed by an affair so trivial." She was then silent for a brief space ; and I took occasion to say that one of my great vexations was a fear that the money formerly at my disposal had been misspent, owing to my not givihg it away with sufficient discrimination, because at the time I expected to have enough for all claims, and now I felt self-convicted of having been too hasty, to say the least. " Do not fret about that," said she, " for if you had it to do over again, I do not think that you could in conscience give less under the circumstances than you have given. You know that iu this matter* you regarded the will of God and the welfare of one dearer to you than the world's wealth, and that * This refers to the property whioh Jaqueline had previously traasfurred t" her brother. THE NOVICE. 148 you did not give him the money in order to aggrandize him or to render his position more brilliant ; for with all that you have done for him, he has barely enough to keep up an ap pearance befitting his station. What ground, then, have you for fearing that your money was squandered? How could you do less ? Even were it true," proceeded she with admira ble kindness, " which, as I have told you, it is not, that you had been hasty and extravagant, and made a dead loss of your money, then your regret should be calmed by remember ing that you could not possibly meet with a loss of less im portance. For you see, my sister, every external and perisha ble advantage is in reality valueless ; and the loss of the least particle of God's grace is of more consequence in His sight than the loss of all the world's wealth, use it as we may. God neither needs our possessions, nor cares for them. The grace He implants within us is the only true riches, and we ought often to ask ourselves whether we are employing this for our own good and that of others. This, however, we sel dom think of, grieving but little, or not at all, over a failure in our usual meelmess, or gentleness, or any other Christian grace, and having all our scruples aroused if we have mis spent a smaU sum of money, though this is the least talent of all those for which we must give account. But the favor of God and the graces of His Holy Spirit are treasures in deed ; and if we are careful not to lose or misimprove them, will be forever serviceable to others as well as to ourselves. " Now forget all that is past, and speak and write as if nothing had occurred, merely telling your friends that you will confirm your resignation in their favor. And you must do this in all sincerity, avoiding the appearance either of a spirit of pride, as if you had been more generous than they, or of a wish to coax them into obUging you, for if our ac' tions do not arise from love, they are worthle-ss. You must seek to be influenced by a wish for peace, especially with her* • Madame Perier. 144 JAQUELINE PASCAL. whom you know to be very sensitive, and likely to take the idea of your displeasure rauch to heart. The event proved the wisdom of this counsel. Pas cal soon afterwards visited Port Eoyal, and perceiving his sister's dejection, at once tried to remove it by of fering to make arrangements for endowing the Con vent mth the usual pension, assuming all the risks and charges of the estate himself, and releasing Jaque Une. This was oi course a great relief to her feelings, and after describing the interview, she goes on to say : There was no time lost in trying to persuade hira to in crease the amount, for I was ordered so expressly, and with so absolute an authority to make his will my law, that I no more dared to stir in the affair than as if it had not concerned me It was an admirable thing to see the differ ence in the conduct of each, careful as they all were to act in conformity with God's will, and the perfect law of love. Our mother, (Angelique,) naturally caring for the interests of the Convent, was anxious that no shade of meanness, avarice, or .selt-seeking should be mingled with the affair. M. Singlin not only shared her zeal for the House, but felt compassion ately for my relatives, some of whom are under his guidance, while all cherish for him the highest esteem. Mother Agnes, on the other hand, busied herself solely with the endeavor to have me, as a novice under her charge, profit by what was passing, and lose no opportunity of exer-cising the patience, humility and forbearance so repugnant to human nature. On the eve of my profession, for which the day had long been fixed, irrespective of the state of my affairs, the papers were all ready and only waiting to be signed. I begged our mother to go down for that purpose to the parlor, but, being THE NOVICE. 145 quite indisposed, she was unable to go ; and, strange to say, this seemed to give her pleasure, " because," said she, " the ceremony of signing may now be deferred till after you have taken the veil, and then your brother need do nothing but of his own free-will, or from motives of pure charity." .... When I informed ray brother of this, the men of business who accompanied him were excessively surprised, and declared that such conduct was very rare, &c. My brother, who had long known the ways of Port Royal, was less surprised, but he wished for no delay, and showed that he gave the Uttle he had to give freely, by returning on the morrow, when our mother, being in better health, could Cot excuse herself from seeing him. He told me afterwards that she had said to him with extraordinary emphasis, that she could not tell whether I had acted in this matter as she bade me. " And lei5t she may not," continued our mother, " I feel bound to entreat you, sir, in God's name, not to let any earthly con sideration influence you, and if you do not feel that the spirit of charity prompts you to this deed of charity, to leave it undone. You see, sir, that M. de St. Cyran taught us to ac cept nothing for the House of God, which does not come from Him. Alms given from other motives are not the work of His Holy Spirit, and therefore we have no wish to receive them." In reply, he said everything that was poUte and proper, but would not agree to any delay, and thus the affair ended. After this, our mother, on meeting me, said that all was settled, and I need not torment myself any longer. Then drawing me aside, she added very seriously that it had really troubled her to see rae so anxious to have my brother act hb erally, and so annoyed when I fancied that he did not. " I fear, my daughter," she said, very kindly, " that you have thereby offended God. I beg you to reflect on this, and also t< consider that you have in fact no reason to complain of ) ar brother, who has given largely, both in proportion to 7 146 JAQUELINE PASCAL. his means, and when compared vvith many others. I only wish you knew what an advantage is usually taken of a spirit of disinterestedness, it is incredible ; but it ought not to make us neglect our own duty." JaqueUne closes her tale by enfreating the Prioress to forgive the appearance of her letter, " ftiU as it is of scratches, blots, omissions, and other blunders" oc casioned by the interruptions to which, in her occupa tion of teaching the Novices, she was subject, in these terms : I would gladly write it over again, out of respect to you ; but it is doubtful if I could ever find leisure, for I am never able to write above two dozen lines, and often not more than five or six, without being interrupted by some question, un important, it is true, but quite capable of disturbing such a weak brain as mine, and causing me to spoil whatever I have in hand And I must tax your kindness still further by asking you-to intercede before God, that the many sins committed by me in this affair raay be blotted out, es pecially my neglect of so rauch good advice, .... lest the privileges intended for my salvation should serve only to condemn me, and the consolations by which God has designed to dry my tears, should witness against my unfaithfulness.* * Her posteript is both curious and charaeteristio : " I thought, dear mother, that thei^ w.as no further apology to be made, but I for got to mention that the gilt-edged paper I have used was found in a casket left me by a friend, and since it is the only relic of worldli ness I possess, at least externally, I think it ought to be devoted to God's service, and that the best way of doing this is by using it to commemorate a charity of whioh He is the source. Although I can but dimly shadow forth the love of whioh I have been the recipient, I feel that it deserves to be recorded in letters of blood, rather than on gilt-edged sheets." THE NOVICE. 147 Margaret Perier says of her aunt : " Although the customs of Port Eoyal required a year's probation be fore the veU could be taken, yet four months after her entrance she was allowed to become a Novice." Thenceforward she bore the name of Jaqueline de Ste. Euphemie, and her world was bounded by the convent walls. No detaUs of the ceremony, which took place in May, 1652, have been preserved, but it was probably conducted in strict accordance with the formula pre scribed in the Constitutions, which allowed very few persons to be present when a novice took the veil, and forbade all attempts to excite pubhc interest by the theatrical display common among Eomanists on such occasions. It was desired that the dress of the candidates should be of inexpensive materials, and simply made. Pearls and other ornaments were pro hibited, and instead of the usual entire severance of the Novice's hair, the Abbess only cut off a little from the ends, in order that, if the former should afterwards repent of her consecration, and wish to quit the con vent, she need not be deterred from re-entering society by a feeling of shame at the loss of that feminine adornment. fasral's Cffitir^rsioit. In the course ofthe year 1653, Madame Perier haa a dangerous Ulness, from which it was at one time supposed that she could not recover. In this distress ing conjuncture, the Sister Sainte Euphemie addressed a letter to her brother-in-law and his suffering wife, fiiU of affection and sorrow, yet cairjdng her own de vout resignation almost to the pitch of rejoicing over her sister's illness, and urging M. Perier to itnprove the occasion by completely consecrating himself to God. To do this, in her beUef, implied the necessity of separating from his wife, if she hved, of givitlg up his secular employments, and becoming a recluse like herself She says : — ,My 31, 1653. I write to you both, if God permit the letter to find you both* in a state to read it, which, after your note ofthe 24th, I scarcely dare to hope. You can imagine the state of my own feelings ; I do not pretend to express them, for it would be useless. But I think it ray duty, in this extremity, to render all the assistance I can, both to my sister and yourself. I pray for you as often as possible, and our Mothers have fre- * Madame Perier was then very ill, and expecting the birbh of her eon, Blaise Perier. pascal's convebsion. 149 quently reminded the sisterhood to commend her ease to God ; so that she may be very sure we do not forget her. In fact, they are only too kind to every one here, and especially to her. But I believe that the most efficacious manner of plead ing, by which we may best deserve to have the prayers of our forefathers come up in remembrance before God, is to prove our own fidelity to her at this important juncture. I speak, in the deepest grief and feeling, as if there were no hope at aU, though I have no doubt that the worst news would produce totally different emotions, should God see fit to con summate our affiiction. This obliges me to say, that we can not have a better opportunity of testing whether we possess real faith, for God appeai-.s to be requiring us to hope that in this solemn hour He will have mercy upon my sister, since He graciously inclined her heart to seek and serve Him in her days of health. This thought alone can sweeten the bitter cup, for we must neither expect nor desire her to stifle aU the feelings of nature. But, I think she ought so far to moderate them as not to pray for life herself, though, for the sake of you and her children, I cannot help asking that she may be spared,— -and yet when I remember that our own mother was removed from us when we were much younger than they are, and under circumstances more trying than theirs could be and that God notwithstanding, did not forsake us, but proved Himself the Father of tbe orphan and the Comforter of the afflicted, I feel that, instead of setting ourselves in array against His decrees, we are bound to place ourselves and all that we hold dear in His hands. Your children are more His than ours ; let us not fear that He will abandon those whom we have given up to Him • and as for yourself, I certainly believe that if God should deprive you of so great a treasure, it would only be to draw you more closely to Himself. * * * And if it please Him to grant this blessing to my dear sister in preference to ourselves, why should we oppose her happiness ! I see none to be found in 150 JAQUELINE pascal. this world except in retirement, and in giving up all things for the sake of serving God ; but even this is not to be com pared with the full possession of God, and the certainty of never losing that felicity. Let us therefore repress to the best of our power all those natural emotions which are con trary to the spirit of faith and submission, and as neither ef fort nor wish on our part can alter the decrees of God, let us do willingly what we must do if He has so ordained it. God knows that I love my sister more beyond comparison than when we were both in the world, and yet it seemed to me then that nothing could increase the affection I felt for her ; but whereas at that time my chief wishes and anxieties were for her life, which always had been and still is dearer to rae than my own, they now relate to her salvation. Therefore, violent as ray grief is, and though I ara continually in dread of hearing the fatal news, trembUng so that I can scarcely stand if any one looks as though he were going to speak to me, yet, when I take into account the misery and dangers of this present Ufe, especially for a person immersed in worldly occupations, I cannot but accuse rayself of selfishly desiring my Own benefit rather than hers, and so my most earnest prayers to God are, that the infant may be an heir of grace, and that the mother's illness may be sanctified, that she may be weaned frora earth, and forget the things she must quit, in contemplating the blessedness awaiting her, which ought to fill her whole soul, and leave no room for any other thought. If her sickness will not permit this, let us, I beseech you, do it for her, and declare before God with heart and lip, that there is nothing upon earth which we desire for ourselves, or for those yet dearer to us, besides His favor. I daily implore Him, in my sorrow, that He would enable you and me to prove our entire fidelity to Him- in this season of trial. My dear brother, we may never have such another ; let us not endure it without yielding the fruit which God re quires at our hand,^. I think Hi; looks for more than com- pascal's conveesion. 151 mon resignation from us, and that unless we are ungrateful for His goodness to the dear patient for so raany years, we ought not to be satisfied with merely aUowing him to take back His loan, instead of cheerfuUy offering it up, and rejoicing that she should receive fhe reward ofthe service she had long striven to render Him. Pray for me, as I do for you, that we may have grace so to act. God is near to the afflicted, and ready to hear their cry. I therefore beseech you also to make supphcation for my poor brother, that this trial may be the means of winning him back to God, and causing him to see the emptiness of everything earthly. We, as well as my dear sister, have reason to bless God for having made this plain to him, and through him to us all, long before we were taught it by experience. I trust that none of us will so faint in the day of adversity as to forget this special favor, or if it be graven deeply in our meraories, that God will not suffer us ungratefully to refuse to cherish the hope it warrants, nor the consolation it affords. Do not wonder that I write as if recovery were hopeless. It has been, as I have told you, my conviction from the first, and though I do not give way as I should, if certain of the fact, on the other hand, I dare not hope, lest the blow may faU more heavily. May God strengthen us all, and implant in our hearts a vigorous faith, so that we may look upon the departure of our beloved ones as a voyage to Heaven. They raay have got the start of us by a few moments, but we shall be enabled to imitate them now, and follow thera hereafter. Let us beware of complaining when God deprives us of what we most prize, instead of thanking Him for having lent it so long. Tell my sister, however she may suffer, to remeraber the beautiful saying of M. de St. Cyran, "The sick should look upon their bed as an altar whereon they continually offer up to God the sacrifice of their life, for Hira to accept at His pleasure ;" and another, " The pains, and various accompani ments of sickness are noises that serve to warn the virgins of 152 JAQUELINE PASOAL. the bridegroom's approach.'' Let her hope to go in with Him to that blessed marriage, since she has neither suffered her lamp to become extinct by quitting the ways of God from the time of her entrance on them, nor has she bought oil from those who sell, by listening to the flatteries of false guides, but has faithfully preserved the true oil of grace, shed abroad in her heart by God's Holy Spirit. Tell her she must not cease to pray for me, that God would be merciful to me, and speedily call me home from exile, if it is for His glory ; not forgetting my brother, the Church, and the land, for God hears the prayer of the sick, especially when, as in her case, they belong entirely to Him. Although JaqueUne, happUy, did not succeed in convincing M. Perier that he was in duty bound to shut himself up in solitude, yet her prayers and efforts were soon after rewarded by the conversion of one even dearer and nearer to her heart than he. The year 1654 is famous in the history of Port Eoyal, as the epoch of Blaise Pascal's final withdrawal from worldly society. "In the case of twins," says Dr. EeuchUn, "it is frequently observable that the death of one is soon foUowed by that of the other. Blaise Pascal and Ja queline were twins in soul; and when the former strove to prevent his sister's complete identification with Port Eoyal, he was in reality struggling for the right of his own independence. For when Jaqueline had given up her personal freedom and the control of her own will to others, this complete death to self on her part, involved the forfeiture of her brother's life pascal's CONVEESION. 153 in the world, and her influence speedily drew him into the charmed circle of monastic seclusion." But how, it may be asked, could Pascal, himself the first of his family to enter upon a Ufe of devotion to God, and the instrument of Jaquelme's own conversion, require her persuasions to urge him forward in what they both beUeved to be the way of holiness? Margaret Perier, in her Memoirs, thus explaiaed the fact : "In consequence of my imcle's miserable state of health, the physicians had to interdict all mental effort ; but a disposition so Uvely and energetic as his could not long remain idle. When he was no longer busied in scientific .pursuits, or in reUgious studies re quiring close appUcation, he felt the need of amuse ment, and this drove him into company, where he played cards, and joined in other diversions. At first he did so in moderation, but by degrees his taste for society increased, and though his life was never in the least vicious or irregular, it gradually became gay, frivolous, and useless. After my grandfather's death, the mastery of his own property gave him greater free dom, and he plunged more and more into the world, till at length he made up his mind to follow the com mon routine of Ufe, to purchase some of&ce and to marry. " He laid his plans accordingly, but consulting with my aunt, who was a nun, and felt deeply grieved at beholding him, who first convinced her of the vanity of worldly things, again enthralled by them, she fre quently advised him to renounce his projected engage- 154 JAQUELINE PASCAL. ments. He listened, but went on with his plans, until on the Festival of the Virgin's conception, God per mitted him to make my aunt a visit, and to stay with her in the convent parlor, during the repetition of nones before sermon. When the church-bell stopped ringing, she left him, and he went into church to hear the sermon, not knowing that God awaited him there. The subject of the sermon was the commencement of a Christian life, and the importance of holiness, the danger of forming secular or matrimonial engagements from motives of habit, fashion, or worldly prudence, the duty of seeking direction from God in aU such matters, and of examining whether they would be likely to prove hinderances to salvation. The preacher was in the pulpit when my uncle went into church, therefore he knew that my aunt could not have spoken to him ; and as his own state and disposition were de lineated with great earnestness and soundness of argu ment, he became deeply affected, for he felt that the discourse was addressed to him by God, and received it as a mes.sage to his own soul. My aunt (Ud all she could to fan the new flame, and in a few days my uncle resolved to break off from the world entirely. With this intention he went into the country, in order to famUiarize himself with his future mode of life, and to cease paying and receiving a general course of visits. In this he succeeded so well, that from that time forward he had no more intercourse with his for mer worldly acquaintance." pascal's CONVEESION. 155 The detaUs of Pascal's conversion are given m two letters from Jaqueline to Madame Perier, and in one to Blaise himself, in which she appears to have some misgivings concerning the character of her brother's piety, as being more buoyant and mirthftU, than M. de Saci, his confessor, was lUcely to approve. TO MADAME PEEIEE. December 8, 1654. It is not right that you should be ignorant any longer of what God has wrought in the heart of one so dear to us ; but I wish you to learn it from himself, in order that your every doubt may be done away. All that I have now time to tell you is, that God has graciously given him a great wish to be completely devoted to His service, though in what mode of life is not yet determined. For more than a year he has felt a thorough contempt for the world, and an almost insup portable disgust for its votaries, aud yet though his excitable temper would naturally lead him to extremes, he behaves with a moderation that encourages me to hope for good. He has put himself under M. Singlin's direction, I trust with a child like submission, if the latter will receive him ; for he has not yet consented, but I think in the end he will not refuse. Though his health is worse than it has been for a long time, it does not in the least afiect his resolution, which shows that the reasons he formeriy urged were only a pretence. I perceive in him a humility and submission, even towards myself, which astonishes me. I have now no more to add, except that it is evident another spirit than his own is striv ing within him. Farewell : let all this be kept secret, even from him. I am yours entirely. Sister Euphbmie. 156 JAQUELINE PASCAL. TO M. PASCAL. January 19th, 1655. Mv VERT DEAE BROTHER, It gives me as much delight to find you cheerful in solitude as it used to give me pain, when I saw you immersed in the gaieties of the world. I hardly know, however, how M. de Saci* gets along with a penitent so full of happiness, who, instead of expiating his former share in worldly vanities and amusements by unceasing tears, has only reUnquished them for more rational enjoyments, and more allowable play of fancy. For my part, I think your penance very moderate indeed, and there are few people who would not envy it. But if M. de Saci is satisfied, so am I, for I think him wor thy of the same deference that you have for our Mother Agnes. She has not mentioned to me the subject on which you asked her advice, so it is not she, but I who tell you to be wiser in future ; and in this I think her spirit inspires me, which I would to God were always the case. And in order to edify you more by example than precept, I herewith put an end to the wilful nonsense of this letter. Your eager desire to renounce every semblance of worldly distinction ii> very praiseworthy, and I can only wonder that God enables you lo feel it, for it seems to me that you have deserved in more ways than one, to be annoyed for some tirae to come by the smell of the mire whioh you have clung to so fondly. It would be but just, if you were to be still fettered by worldly habits, after fleeing to the wilderness, since you choice to keep aloof from the means of deliverance so long. But God has in this respect shown you that His mercy is greater than all His other attributes, and I pray that He will continue His work, and teach you to use the talents He has bestowed on you aright. ¦• Who had received Pascal, from the hands of M. Singlin, as his confessor. pascal's CONVERSION. 157 The same must be said of your wooden spoon and earthen platter, about which you wrote me. These are the gold and precious stones of Christianity, and none but princes should have them on their tables : we must be truly poor in spirit, if we would deserve such an honor, whioh, according to M. de Renti,* ought to be denied to common folks. My only comfort is, that this kind of kingship not being hereditary, it may be acquired after a long period of neglect, as well as lost after long possession. One of the best methods of ob taining it, according to my idea, is to act as if it were already our own ; not indeed through usurpation or hypocrisy, but in order that we may proceed from outward impoverishment to poverty of soul, from bodily humihation to real humihty. God give us grace so to do ! I was before you in the discovery that health depends more on our Saviour than on the maxims of Hippocrates. Spiritual regimen soon cures bodily ailments, unless God sees fit to try and to strengthen us by means of sickness. Certainly it is a great privilege to have sufficient health of body, enabling us to do what is enjoined upon us for the cure of our souls ; but it is none the less a privilege to take chastisement from God's own hand. If we are His, we must always be well, whether living or dying. We are not told, " If any one will come after me," let him perform very painful tasks, that call for great strength, but, " Let him deny himself." It is pos sible that a sick person may do this better than one in perfect health. TO MADAME PEEIEE. Port Royal, Jarfuary 25, 1655. My very dear Sister, It is difficult to tell if your impatience to receive intelligence of the person you know (Pascal) has been greater • The Marquis de Renti, famous for his piety, and whose memoir was translated for the use of hia own people by the celebrated and «soellent John Wi'slcv. 158 JAQUELINE PASCAL. than mine to communicate it ; yet as I had no time to waste, I was afraid to write too soon, lest I might have to unsay what I had prematurely told you. But now, things are in such a train that you ought to know it, let the result be, by God's good pleasure, what it may. It would, I think, be doing you an injustice if I did not relate the whole story from the beginning, which was some days before I sent you the first news ; that is, towards the close of September last. He came to see rae then, and during the visit, opened his heart to me in such a way that I felt a deep pity for him, acknowledging that in the midst of his oc cupations, which were numerous, and of a nature to excite in him a love for this world, to which every one had cause to think hira greatly attached, he still felt admonished to leave it altogether. That, by reason of his aversion for the follies and amusements of life, and the constant reproaches of con science, he found himself in a state of detachment from the world, which he had never even approached before ; but that, on the other hand, God seemed to have entirely forsaken him, and he experienced no longings after God, much as he desired to feel them. But this desire he knew was not the work of the Holy Spirit, for his own mind and reason prompted him to covet earnestly the things -which he was convinced were most desirable. That, weaned as he now was from earth, he would shrink from no enterprise, did he but have the feeUngs towards God he once had ; and that the bonds formerly binding him to this world must have been horribly strong, or he could never have so resisted the grace of God and the strivings of the Holy Spirit. This confession gave me great surprise and delight, and from that tirae I began to hope for hira as I had never done before, so that I thought it my duty to write you on the sub ject, that he might have the benefit of your prayers. If I were to describe his other visits as minutely, I should fill a volume, for they were afterwards so frequent and long, that PASCAL'S CONVEESION. 159 my sole employment seemed to be listening to him, and watching his progress, vvithout attempting to persuade him in the least. I have seen him gradually growing in grace till he no longer seems the same being, and you will see it also, if God carries on the work, more especially as he increases in in humihty, submission, self-distrust and self-abhorrenee, and the wish to sink out of the esteem and memory of man. Such is his present state of raind. God only can foresee what it will become. To resume. There were raany visits and raany conflicts with himself on the subject of choosing a spiritual guide. He did not question the necessity of a guidance ; but although the person best suited to him was already found, and he could not bear to think of any one besides, yet his self: distrust made hira fearful lest his very partiaUty might lead hira astray, not indeed in regard to the qualifications of a confessor, about which, in this case, there could be no doubt, but in selecting one who was not his own natural pastor. I saw clearly enough that this hesitation only arose frora the in dependence yet lingering in his soul, which caught at any ex cuse for avoiding the complete subjection to which he was fast tending. But I did not choose to influence him, and merely said that I thought it was our duty to select the best physicians we could find, both for soul and body. That the bishop was unquestionably our proper confessor, but that since the Bishop of Paris could not possibly guide all the inhab itants of his diocese, and even his vicars, or parish priests, if they were capable, would find it an overwhelming task, a per son like himself, having no estabUsment, and being at liberty to take up his residence in any parish he chose, was certainly able to choose his own confessor. I added that the Bishop of Geneva (Franqois de Sales), in advising us to select a direct or of ten thousand, meaning one whom we prefer above ten thousand others, did not, though himself a bishop, and very zealous for the hierarchy, pretend to limit any person's choice within the bounds of his parish. I lannot now remember 160 JAQUELINE PASCAL. whethei this convinced him, or whether grace, visibly in creasing day by day, dissipated the clouds that had darkened so promising a commencement, without the aid of argument ; but at length his mind was raade up. But our task was not over yet, M. SingUn needed much persuasion to induce him to accept the office, for he had a great dread of such undertak ings. However, he could not resist our urgent entreaties not to permit a work of such evident sincerity and promise to perish for lack of aid ; and he so far yielded to my impor tunities as to be willing to take upon him the charge in ques tion, although in consequence of a long-continued infirmity, he cannot speak without great pain. Meanwhile, many things occurred, too long and unimportant to be repeated here; the principal event being that our young convert came of his own accord to the conclusion, that a temporary withdrawal from home would be very serviceable to hira on many account'. M. Singlin vvas then at Port Royal des Champs for the benefit of his health ; and therefore, although he (Pascal) was terribly afraid of having it known that he held coramunication with any one in the convent save myself, he nevertheless resolved to go thither under pretext that business called hira into the country. Bv changing his uame, leaving his servants in some neighboring village, and proceeding on foot to M. Singlin, he hoped that no one eke would recognize him or discover his objf'ct; and that he might thus eflect a temporary retreat. I advised him not to take such a step without consulting M. Singlin, who, on his part, forbade it altogether, not havhig yet ilecided to becorae his confessor, so that he had to wait pa tiently for the latter's return, as he did not wish to do any thing in opposition to the orders given him by M. Singlin, in a very beautiful letter, wherein he constituted me as his (Pas cal's) directress until God made his own duty plain either to accept the confessorsLip or not. When M. de Singlin at length returned, I entreated him to release me from ray dignity, and .•¦aid so much that I obt.-iined mv desire, -ind he took tbe di- pascal's CONVEESION. 161 rection upon himself. They then both thought it would be best for him to make a trip into the country for the sake of being more alone than he could be in town, because his par ticular friend* had returned, and took up neariy all his time. Accordingly, he made him his confidant, obtained his con sent, which was not yielded without tears, and set out on the morrow after the festival of the Epiphany with M. de Luines, intending to stay in one of the latter's houses ; and he has now remained there for some time. But not being so much alone as he wished, he has procured a room, or rather a cell among the recluses of Port Royal, and thence he writes me that he finds himself extremely happy, being lodged and treated like a prince, but a prince of St. Bernard's stamp, dwelling in a lonely spot, where the profession of poverty is carried out to the utmost extent that discretion will allow. He is present at every service from prime to complines, and does not find the least inconvenience in rising at five o'clock. It seeras to be God's will, also, that he should fast as well as watch, though in so doing he must defy all medical rules, which forbid hira to do either, for his supper begins to give him pain in the chest, and I think he will leave off taking it. He will not miss his directress. M. Singlin, who has remained in town during the whole time, having provided him a con fessor,! with whom he was not before acquainted, a man be yond praise, who has completely charmed hiai, and is, more over, of a good race. He (Pascal) was not at all weary there, but some business forced him, against his wish, to return ; and in order not to lose what he had gained, he has obtained a roora here, and lodged in it since Thursday, without making his arrival known at home. He did not tell any one whither * M. de Roarmez. f M. de Saci is here meant, the same who afterwards, during us imprisonment in the Bastile, translated the Holy Scriptures into the French tonffue. 162 JAQUELINE PASCAL. he was going when he set out except Madame Perier and Duchesne, whom he took with him. It was suspected, how ever, but only on conjecture. Some say he has turned monk, others hermit, others again that he is at Port Poya! ; and he knows all this, but does not care for it. This is the state of affairs at present. Hitherto he has seemed so much afraid of having all this known, that I dared not even ask him to send you word. But some days before his return I wrote him on the subject ; he answered that if it were enjoined on him to let you know, he would do so, but he should not think of it for his own part, because his progress in the divine Ufe was so small, that he did not know what to say ; yet if I thought il was proper to write, he vvas very willing to have me write, though he could not see what there was to communicate. On this I be gan ray letter at ray earliest leisure, the day of its date, but I have not been able to find time to finish it until to-day, February Sth. Business now detains him at home, but I think as soon as he can, he will go back to his solitude. Yesterday he told me that he intended to write you, by God's help, and wished me to write. He is anxious to do something for our little cousin, the daughter of Pascal the overseer ; and as this convent is very charitable, we hoped to get her received here as a boarder, but I doubt whether mother or child would be willing. Write me word about it, if you please, as soon as you can, and say how we had better manage it. I am very anxious that she should come, for I look upon her as a sister, and cannot look upon her situation, either bodily or spiritual, without shuddering. Besides, she is my father's niece, and I can un derstand how he would have felt for her, from my own feel ings towards your children. During this retreat of Pascal's at Port Eoyal des Champs, there occurred between him and M. de Sani, pascal's conversion. 163 to whose spkitual care Singlin had consigned him, the celebrated discussion upon Epictetus and Montaigne, in which Pascal passed ia review the doctrines of the Epicureans and Stoics, and won from his austere con fessor expressions of wonder and admiration. Fon taine, the secretary of de Saci, who was present at the conference, and wrote down its substance, teUs us that aU the inhabitants of Port Eoyal des Champs were fuU of delight at the conversion and the sight of M. Pascal, more especially admiring the almighty power of that grace which in almost unparalleled mercy had thus deeply humbled a mind in itself so elevated, at the foot of the cross. After some months spent in the practices of a fer vent yet rational piety, Pascal's eager temperament arged him into an extreme of exaggerated devotion, for which even his sister reproached him in the foUow- ttg note : December 1st, 1655. I have been congratulated on the great fervor of devotion which has lifted you so far above all ordinary customs, that you consider even a broom as a superfluous piece of furniture. It is needful, however, that, for some months at least, you should be as clean !is now you are dirty, so that yonr success may be equally manifest in your lowly and vigilant care of the body, submissive to your spirit, as it has been in a tho rough personal neglect. After that, if you find it glorious and edifying to others, to look filthy, you can do so, espe cially if it be a means of htiliness, which I very much doubt. Saint Bernard did not think it was. 164 jaqueline pascal. It appears that Pascal had formerly had a taste for the elegancies of life, for handsomely finished houses, furniture, &c. Now, however, he had fallen into the other extreme of indifference. He contends, in his " Penses," that it is the duty of Christians to employ poor artisans rather than skUful ones, because the lat ter have more need of help. It was one of the rules of Port Eoyal to do without the aid of servants as much as possible, because" Christ came not to be ministered unto, but to minister." Jaqueline had a right to reproach her brother for his negligence, as we find from her next letter to Mad. Perier, that she herself, although the spouse of Heaven, had recently been employed in the most me nial of&ces of the convent, which however were allot ted to her merely as a preparation for one of its hon orable posts. She was soon afterwards appointed Sub-mistress of the Lesser Noviciate. This depart ment of Port Eoyal included aU candidates for admis sion to the sisterhood, whether they came from -with out the convent, or from its female school, and while belonging to it, their patience was tested, their maid enly pride and vanity mortified in every possible way, in order to find out if they were the subjects of a true vocation to the cloister. Mad. Perier, having acci dentally heard of JaqueUne's promotion, which the latter had concealed from her when she visited Port Eoyal, made some inquiries concerning it, and these were answered in the foUowing letter : PASCAL'S CONVKESIUX. 165 March 23d, 1655. I had thought of answering this part of your letter in the same style in which you wrote, but I cannot do it, for all my gaiety leaves rae when I approach the topic. And I therefore entreat you raost hurably to beUeve every word of what I shall now teU you, for I am perfectly serious. I dare say that my employment here has been represented to you as much greater than in fact it !s, and this is one reason why I write so seriously, for after aU it is a mere nothing, and I do not think that any one but myself would consider it of consequence. But it is quite a responsibility for me, vvho would much rather keep in the background, and am fit for nothing but to bustle about in a tiny cell, or to sweep the house; for this last is an accomplishment I have become quite expert in, as well as in washing dishes and spinning. You see I have learnt to be very handy. The employment assigned rae, then, is to remain with the novices, and keep an eye on the newly-arrived candidates, in order to prevent such little mistakes as they are likely to make for want of knowing what are the customs and regulations of the house, which last I am to teach them by degrees. I also look after their little external wants, and see that they are provided with shoes, stockings, pins, thread, and so forth. This charge has been given to rae, because Mother Agnes, who as you know, is our mistress (I think that you are aware I still belong to the Novitiate), and the under-mistress, are both too much occupied to be able to teach those who are so ignorant as to need instruction, even in the alphabet of faith. And that you may have no more cause to complain of my reserve, I candidly tell you that it is also my duty to advise them in regard to their behavior in the convent. Their confessor takes charge of the rest. Now you know just what I have to do ; and in order to do it well, I certainly require something more than I nossess, though the little mule you speak of would 166 JAQUELINE PASCAL. hardly answer the purpose.* You see, however, that the charge is no great thing in itself, since I have only to impart to others what I am myself learning; and my sister Madelaine is always on the spot to correct me if I do wrong, and to over see my pupils and me too, while the poor girls, who are so badly off for a directress, can apply to her, or even to Mother Agnes, if they choose. But for all that, I cannot help trem bling when I consider that I hold the destiny, so to speak, of five or six girls in my hands, and that they in a measure de pend on one whose charity and knowledge are so imperfect that she often prefers her own ease to the task of searching out and supplying their necessities. I tell you the simple truth, such as it is. And I must ac knowledge that when you were here, I often felt that it was scarcely right to keep this a secret from you, to whom my heart has always been open, especiaUy when you frequently asked what kept me so busy ? I had even made a memoran dum to ask our Mother Agnes if this confidence were not due to you, but God permitted me always to forget it, and since you left, it has never occurred to me. Neither have I men tioned it to my brother, and if he knows it, some one else has told him. There is a great advantage in having to teach others the ways of God, and to inspire them with His fear and love, but you will own that this employment involves also great peril ; for it is very difficult to speak of God in a godly man ner, and very dangerous to feed others from our own penury instead of from His abundance. Pray for me, that my two mites raay be as acceptable to God as the large alms of the wealthier, and that He may graciously teach me while I am teaching others. Farewell, dear sister. Yours ever in our Lord, Sister Euphbmie, an unworthy nun. * Doubtless Madame Perier, iu allusion to her sister's employments, had written that she seemed to bo as heavily laden as a little nuile ; and to this Jaqueline makes answer. pascal's CONVEESION. 167 Jaqueline's next letter to her sister was in answer to some inquiries of the latter relating to the best method of educating her chUdren. Port Royal, April 25, 1655. My very dear Sister, I take a large sheet of paper, because it is my resolution, by God's help, to send you a long letter. When I first read the one you forwarded by my brother, I did not in tend to answer it at all, for it seemed to me that I was very far from having the requisite ability for such a task, and be sides that, I ought not to undertake it. For there is nothing in my opinion so provoking as to see a little novice, whose eyes have scarcely began to discern the true light, taking it upon herself to enUghten others, and to become their torch- bearer. It is really unendurable. But since, on account of the humility of our mothers, and the illness of M. Singlin, I am totally unable to procure the aid you are seeking elsewhere, and since I was once in the same strait that you describe, I do not know that there is any harm in saying to you what I have said to myself, for I feel as if you and I had but one heart and one soul in Christ Jesus. When I had written thus far, it occurred to me that M. de Rebours might pei-haps be so kind as to give you sorae advice. I broke off, therefore, in order to consult hira, and by his cora raand I write what he is just now unable to write you hiraself on account of the weakness of his eyes, and because, raoreover, he says it is not his place to dictate the conduct of any one. That, he persists in believing, is M. Singlin's mission, and not his. He bids me say to you, — ^it is a settled thing, that the care of governing a family is one of the chief and indispensable duties of its head, though the care ought certainly to be di vided ; that of boys belonging mainly to the husband, and that of giris to the wife. This, however, is not the case in 168 JAQUELINE PASCAL. your family, for M. Perier being too much engaged to attend to it properly, the responsibility falls upon you, but this does not release him, because he is bound to fulfil his most import ant duties first. If you could persuade him to discharge them, you would yourself be free, but if not. the burden rests upon you. You are therefore bound (since you wish to labor for their salvation, and not merely for their external improve ment, which would be easy enough), to endeavor in the first place to understand their dispositions, and by various little trials to ascertain whether they are inclined to be pious or not, whether they are hypocritical, or bold in the display of naughti ness, what are their besetting sins, and what their tendencies to good. You should also try to raake them love you, never reproving them sharply, but always with firm severity. To do this, it is best not to speak to them until all your angry emo tions have subsided. Then try to make them ashamed of what they have done, and explain to them that you are tar raore grieved by their sin than because they have offended you. And this lesson must often be repeated, for it is a gen eral rule, that uncultivated minds, for instance those of chil dren and coraraon people, can form no other idea of the per sons about them than that which those persons themselves convey. Thus, if we wish to have them love us, we must tell thera that we love them, and that we should feel we had failed in our most iraportant duty, if we vvere to fail in affection towards them. And if we are careful to repeat this very ofteu, it would be extremely difficult for others to persuade them to the contrary. It will not do, therefore, to be satisfied with giving thera to understand that we dearly love them in a roundabout way, or with showing this by our tender care of them in sickness or in their Httle griefs and wants. All these are favorable opportunities of showing that we love them, and we are not to let such occasions slip, but it is necessary, in ad dition, to tell thera so plainly and repeatedly, — telling them also, with equal clearness, that we only love them on condition PASCAL'S CONVERSION. 169 that they remain obedient, and do their duties faithfully, both to God and their teachers. Discretion must dictate when it is best to use oil or vine gar. All that can be said in general is this. When your private interests alone are in question, it is well to be patient, not concealing the inconvenience they have caused you, but showing that you forgive it, and that, if they raust do wrong, you had rather be the sufferer yourself than have any one else sufl'er through them. You can be equally indulgent when it is a case of inadvertence, such as losing, breaking, or injuring anything, unless through glaring carelessness. Ex plain to them that you are willing to pass over faults of such a kind, and to put up with the loss, so long as you perceive that they are careful to avoid what is displeasing to God. Make them notice, at the sarae time,. how few persons feel so, but do this without ostentation, say something tending to prove that you do not think highly of yourself; and be care ful to insinuate that you had rather be in their'pasitiOn than in your own ; for it is a good plan to point out frequently the advantages and dangers of those of riper years. But when ever they transgress against God, disobey their teachers, or quarrel among themselves, then is the time to show yourself severe and even terrible ; for children and every-day people, Uke the Jews, can only be influenced by promises and threats. Having thus regulated their outward behavior, as by force, you may look for God's grace to bestow on them that inward spirit of penitence, to attain which is the aim of all your dis cipline. On such occasions it will not do to forbear ; you must inform their tutor, and exhort him to punish them se verely, unless there is reason to believe that they are truly sorry, and will do so no more. It is good when the threat of sending thera away is their greatest dread ; and in order that it may be, you must always have them treated kindly and equitably, which is the only way of attaching them, until af fection has taken the |>l.iee of self-interest. 170 JAQUELINE PASOAL. To bring these imperfect details to a close. You should accustom yourself to take them separately into your chamber once a week at least, and there froin time to time question them as to what they believe and how they pray. Explain to them the articles of faith, but very briefly, and dwell more on the moral to be drawn frora them. For instance, if you are speaking of the Unity of God in the Trinity of divine per sons, you can say that amidst all the multiplicity of worldly objects and business, we are to have but one supreme love, one wish, and one duty, which must regulate every other. On the mysteries of the Incarnation and the Eucharist, show them that we are bound to love the Saviour, and to imitate Him whom we adore. Teach them the commandments of God, and the ordinances of His Church, and make it clear to their minds that these include many more things than is usually supposed. M. de Rebours is also quite of opinion that you should not omit hearing them pray to God together, every evening. Jaqueline, as Misfress of the Novices, and charged with the oversight of the children who received their education at Port Eoyal,* consulted her brother on a new way of teaching persons to read invented by him, in which the pronunciation of syUables was substituted for that of letters. This method was finally adopted in all the schools of Port Eoyal, and published in its grammars. In 1657 she also composed a set of Eegu- * In her letter, which is not sufficiently interesting to be inserted here, she reminds Pascal that she is his daughter in the faith, and asks hira to inform her if he still bore the name of M. de Mons, — a title belonging to an old branch of the family, which Pascal had as sumed while publishing the Provincial Letters. PASCAL'S CONVERSION. 171 lations for children, which was originaUy published at the close of the Constitutions of Port Eoyal, with a preface stating that so severe a discipline necessarily requires occasional modifications. Some knowledge of the rise and progress of Jan senism, and of a few of its prominent adherents, is ne cessary in order to understand its controversy with Jesuitism, and the state of ecclesiastical afiairs at the time of that strange occurrence, the miracle of the Holy Thorn. Cornelius Jansen, or Jansenius, was born in Hol land, in 1585, received his early education at Ufrecht, and finished his studies at the University of Louvain. One of his fellow-students there, Jean du Verger de Hauranne, afterwards better known as the Abb6 de St. Cyran, became very intimate with him, and dur ing their stay at Louvain, which lasted six years, the two friends were brought into contact with some who secretly believed in the doctrine of salvation by grace ; and thus learned many principles of divine truth dif fering greatly from the teachings usually mculcated by the Church of Eome. They also became acquaint ed with the system of the Jesuits, and the inroads it was calculated to make on Scriptural truth and prac tical morality. The works of St. Augustine were the favorite study of both. JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOBN. 173 St. Cyran had in early youth been a companion of him who subsequently became Cardinal de EicheUeu, and personal regard, as well as the desire of binding; a man so eminent for piety and learning to his owi service, made the latter show much kindness to hi; old friend. But St. Cyran declined all offers of ser vice, and his want of ambition was ascribed by the Cardinal to secret enmity. It so happened that a catechism had once been published by EicheUeu, which taught that sorrow for sin was the only pre requisite for the absolution of a penitent, even if he were entirely destitute of love to God. A priest named Seguenot wrote a reply to this dogma, and the authorship of his book was imputed to St. Cyran. The Cardinal, whose vanity was hurt, did not scruple to shut up the companion of his early days in the Chateau of Vincennes, while the University of the Sorbonne completed his revenge by sending Seguenot to the Bastile. Neither was set free till after Eiche- lieu's death. Before his imprisonment, St. Cyran's opinions on the subject of salvation by grace, his efiforts to diffuse them, and his personal piety, had aroused the enmity of the Jesuits. Their lax casuistry and unprincipled methods of extending their own influence, naturally induced a hatred of all who governed then- beUef and conduct by the teachings of Scripture. St. Cyran's character was one of great symmetry and beauty as well as strength, and he was worthy of 174 JAQUELINE PASCAL. the reverence felt for him by the theologians and nuns of Port Eoyal, of whose school of divinity he may be considered as the founder. He (Ued before the perse cutions commenced, in consequence of his sufferings while in prison, leaving a greater reputation for holi ness than even for learning, and his counsels and ex ample were reverently embalmed in the memories and the writings of his disciples. Though intensely self- denying, he manifested the most generous and tender spirit to others. WhUe at Vincennes, he sold some of the most valuable books in his possession, for the purpose of procuring clothes for two of his suffering fellow-prisoners, the Baron and Baroness de Beau Soliel. His directions to the female friend who exe cuted his wishes were as foUows r " I entreat you to buy cloth which is fine, good, and suitable to their rank. It is, I believe, customary for gentlemen to wear gold lace, and ladies black lace when in com pany. If this is true, please to add those decorations to the dresses, and have them made neatly, yet hand somely, so that, in looking at one another, they may forget for a little while that they are in prison." Jansen returned from Bayonne to his native Hol land, and there became bishop of Ypres. He devoted himself to the study of St. Augustine's writings, read ing and collating the whole of them ten times, and certain portions thirty times. The result of twenty years thus spent was a commentary entitled Augus- irrnis Cornelii ,Tari.^en.ii ^- and on the day of its comple- JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THORN. 175 tion the author died of the plague, leaving his work to the judgment of the Vatican. His executors how ever published it in 1640, without consulting the pope. It maintained the doctrines known as Calvanistic or Evangelical in England — as orthodox in America — and insisted on the truth that salvation is the gift of God's free unmerited grace, yet that the individual called of God to salvation, must manifest the validity of his election by unwearied activity in every good word and work. St. Cyran had assisted in the com position of the treatise, and used all his influence to disseminate its doctrines. Meanwhile the Abbess Angelique, after fulfilling her benevolent mission as a Eeformer, had returned to Port Eoyal des Champs. There, however, as has before been stated, the diseases engendered by the marshy grounds around the convent produced so la mentable an effect upon the health of the sisterhood, that Mad. Arnauld purchased for them a hotel in the Faubourg St. Jacques in Paris, whither for a season they removed, and which is spoken of in the present memoir as Port Eoyal de Paris. This removal took place in 1626. In 1637, the year before St. Cyran's incarceration, which lasted until 1643, a set of devout men, follow ers of that holy ecclesiastic, graduaUy assembled in the forsaken cloisters. They had renounced the world and were living in the observance of a rigorous sys tem of bodily and spiritual self-denial, though they 176 JAQUELINE PASCAL. took no vows. Penitence, solitude, silence were re quired of them ; they hardly allowed themselves food enough to support life, and spent their time in prayer, in works of charity, in the education of youth, and the defence of Christianity. The honored names Ni cole, Fontaine, Lemaitre, the celebrated advocate, De Saci, his brother, who translated the Scriptures into French, and Eacine, can only be mentioned here. The great Arnauld, the head of the community after St. Cyran's death, was the youngest brother of the M^re Angelique, and partook of her indomitable en ergy and talent. While in the enjoyment of wealth and distinction, the young Antoine Arnauld, already distinguished for genius and learning, paid a visit to St. Cyran in his dungeon, and became imbued -with his principles. He renounced his preferments and the favor of EicheUeu, who endeavored, but in vain, to prevent him from being made a doctor of the Sor bonne, or University of Paris. From that time untU his death, he devoted himself to the maintenance of truth against all hazards, and his controversial works fill forty quarto volumes. When at the age of eighty he was preparing for a fresh conflict, a friend suggest ed to him that having toiled so long and manfully, he was now entitled to rest. " Eest 1" he answered, " wiU not eternity be long enough to rest in ?" And al though this principle was not enunciated till Ufe drew near its close, the spirit of it had animated his whole career. In 1643 he published a book, " De la fri- JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOBN. 177 quente Communion," intended to correct the lax standard of church-membership in his own day, by reviving the early discipUne of the Church, and at the same time to stigmatise the morality of the Jesuits as it deserved, who instead of strictness in preparing the penitents for the Communion, made its frequent par ticipation the chief means of grace, desecrating the rite and deceiving the recipient. Its appearance com menced the famous quarrel between Jesuits and Jan senists, which after lasting for seventy years, closed with the destruction of Port Eoyal. The Jesuits were equally amazed and indignant. They could not re fute Arnauld, but their influence at Eome caused him to be cited thither to answer for his doctrines, and not choosing to venture his person in Eome, he re mained in concealment for some twenty-five years in and about Port Eoyal. The liberties of the French church were so deeply involved in the controversy as to occasion a universal interest in its progress. The origin of M. de St. Cyran's connection with the Convent of Port Eoyal has been narrated. Shortly before his death, which occurred a few months after his release from Vincennes, in 1643, he persuaded the M^re Angflique that it was her duty to return to the valley of Chevreuse. Accordingly, she and some of her nuns once more took possession of the convent, and the recluses* withdrew to La Grange, a farm in its neighborhood. " Those who wish for a more detailed account of the recluses of 8* 178 JAQUELINE PASCAL. In both convents a course of almost incredible self- denial and benevolence was pursued. The excess of the nuns' charity sometimes left them without food, and nearly without clothing. The horrors of civil war during the Fronde drove the poor peasants of the vicinity to seek refuge from marauders within the sacred walls. At one time, the church was pUed up to the ceiling with oats, peas, beans, and corn, the dormitory and chapter-house being filled with horses, and the infirmary with sick and wounded. When these evUs were in a measure subdued, the Jesuits renewed their attacks. Their implacable hos tUity to Port Eoyal had other grounds besides the attachment felt by its inmates for St. Cyran, and the doctrines of grace. " To the family of Arnauld," says Tregelles, " they appeared to have an hereditary hatred, in the remembrance of the manner in which the father of the M^re Ang^Uque had acted against the Jesuits in the days of their early introduction into France, when with extraordinary force and eloquence he attacked their institute, and charged home upon their order the crime of the murder of Henry III." They first accused the Port Eoyalists of despising the Eucharist, using no holy water or images in their churches, and praying neither to saints nor Virgin. Protestant sympathy with the accused would be greatly Port Royal, are referred to the brilliant essay of Sir James Stephen on the Port Royalists, published first in the Edinburgh Review, and afterwards reprinted in his " Miscellanies." JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOBN. 179 enhanced had the imputations proved true, but un happily there is too much evidence to the contrary, even in the writings of JaqueUne Pascal alone. The next onset was more skilfully managed. One of their number. Father Cornet, drew up five propositions from the work of Jansenius, and denounced them to the Holy See as heretical opinions taught by St. Cyran and Arnauld. The Pope pronounced their condem nation, and the Jesmts were triumphant, since the Port Eoyalists could not refuse submission to his au thority. But Arnauld, though he did not defend the propositions, refused to abandon Jansenius, and de clared that he could not find the objectionable state ments in the Augustinvs. The Jesuits asserted that nevertheless there they were, but refused to point out the paragraphs containing them. Cardinal Mazarin, who now held the reins of empire, favored the Jesuits, to which order the King's confessor also belonged, and the two appointed a committee of doctors, who decided that the propositions condemned by the Pope were in the book of Jansenius in sentiment, if not in the precise words. All the ecclesiastics and religious communities in France were at once required to sign an acknowledgment to that purpose. Arnauld, as his enemies had hoped, instead of signing, published a statement of his own belief in regard to the doctrines of grace, drawn from St. Augustine, and asserted that Jansenius had written nothing more. Thus arose the question of droit and fait. No one denied the Pope's 180 JAQUELINE PASCAL. right {droit) to condemn any doctrine as heretical : there were many who denied the fact {fait) that the censured propositions could be found in the work of Jansenius. Anne of Austria, the Queen Eegent, was completely under Mazarin's influence, and easily per suaded that heretics like the Port Eoyalists ought not to have the charge of chUdren. She therefore com missioned her lieutenants to break up the entire es tablishment, and its destruction seemed inevitable, but for an occurrence so extraordinary, that one can hardly believe it, in spite of the weight of evidence by which it is attested. Margaret Perier, niece of Jaqueline and Blaise Pas cal, .and youngest daughter of M. and Mad. Perier, a child then about eleven years old, at school in the convent, had for three years and a half endured in tense suffering from a fistula lacrymalis, of the most obstinate and malignant kind, and her medical attend ants were about, as a last resource, to cauterize it. In the meantime, a clerical relative of the M^re Angfl- ique, who had a great fancy for collecting relics, M. de la Polterie, had obtained possession of what was considered a veritable splinter from the Eedeemer's crown of thorns ; and the ladies of Port Eoyal being very desirous of seeing it, a day was appointed for the purpose. We leave Jaqueline to tell the sequel in her let ters to Mad. Perier. She makes hardly any reference to the preceding difficulties, or the impending perse- JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOBN. 181 cution of Port Eoyal. It is possible that she did not know much about them ; for the " Constitutions" di rect the exclusion of worldly topics from general con versation. " As to what is passing in the world, the Abbess can im part to the sisters such information as she thinks would be serviceable in leading them to value their own advantages, to feel compassion for persons in affliction, and to pray more for the Church and the kingdom, that God may in mercy re strain the sins and evils which provoke His righteous indig nation. But it is better for her not to enter into details. These might cause too much distraction of mind, and revive an interest in worldly matters, which, in accordance with our Lord's injunction, ' Let the dead bury their dead,' ought not to be felt." If, however, an exception was made in Jaqueline's favor, the knowledge does not seem to have troubled her. After breathing the atmosphere of faith and pa tience so long, her spiritual strength had become in vigorated, and the heart which once throbbed with such painful anxiety in the maternal arms of Angel ique, now knew no care but that of performing the duties of each day aright. We are told of the M^re Agnes, that " Eternity was already mirrored in her soul, for she looked only at the present moment, and neither troubled herself in prospect of the future, nor in retrospect of the past. The impress of eternal realities seemed to efface all past events from her recol lection. She was never heard to speak of things that 182 JAQUELINE PASCAL. bad happened to her, or that she had performed. Forgetting everything that was behind, she aimed only to perfect what was yet lacking in her piety." It is more than probable that during JaqueUne Pascal's novitiate, she acquired from her preceptress the secret of that unruffled composure, which nothing could dis turb but sin. Letter from the nun Jaqueline to her sister Madame Perier : — Poet Rotai., March 9th, 1656. My vert dear Sister, Lent will not hinder me from writing you a few words, although I wrote before on Friday last, since I have only good news to tell you. I think you are aware that our Jubilee began yesterday, and will last a fortnight ; and tha* araong other privileges, there is to be a communion-service on Sunday, April 2d. I raake this preamble in order to increase the joy it wiU aflbrd you to learn, that your eldest daughter is to be confirmed and to receive the sacrament for the first time on that day. She told me so this morning, and asked me to pray for her, so earnestly that she wept. This is good news. But there is other news to be told, not better indeed, but more wonderful. And to let you know the whole afiair, without increase or diminution, I must begin from the beginning. On Friday, March 24, 1656, M. de la Polterie, the clergyman, sent hither a very handsome reliquary to our mothers, (having within it a splinter from the holy crown of thorns, set in a little sun of gilt silver,) in order that the whole community might enjoy the sight. Before returning it, ' they had it placed on a little altar in the choir, and when an anthem had been chanted in honor of the holy crown, each sister went up and kissed it on her knees, and so did the chil dren afl^erwards, one by one. Sister Flavia, their governess. JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOBN. 183 who stood by, made a sign to Maggie (Margaret Perier), as she drew near, to touch her eye with the relic, and herself took it up and laid it on the sore, hardly thinking what she was about. When all had retired, it was sent back to M. de la Polterie. That same evening. Sister Flavia, who had forgotten the cir cumstance, heard Maggie saying to one of the little girls, " My eye is cured ; it does not pain me at all now." Not a little surprised, she went to the child, and found that the swelling in the corner of her eye, which in the morning was as thick as her own finger-tip, and very long and hard, had quite gone down, and the eye itself appeared as healthy as the other, and looked precisely like it, although before the relic was applied, it was watery and painful to behold. She pressed it, and in stead of discharging matter, a thick water, which it had always done before, there was nothing more to be seen than in her own eye. You can imagine her astonishment. However, she scarcely dared to hope, and merely mentioned to Mother Agnes how the case stood, waiting for time to show if- the cure were as real as it appeared. Mother Agnes was kind enough to tell me about it next day, and as we could not hope that so great a wonder would be completed in so short a time, she said that if the child continued well, and it seemed likely that God would in this way heal her, she would willingly request M. de la Polterie to repeat the favor he had done us in order that the miracle might be completed. But hitherto it has not been necessary, and a week having now elapsed (for I could not finish this letter on Tuesday last) without the return of a sin gle symptora, it really needs far more faith for any one who did not see her in her former state to belief that the eye was diseased, than it does for those who did see her to believe that nothing could have wrought so instantaneous a cure, except a miracle quite as great, and quite as visible as the restoring of sight to a blind man. Besides the difficulty in her eye, she suffered in many ways proceeding from it ; she could hardly sleep at all for the pain it gave her ; there were two places in 184 JAQUELINE PASCAL. her head which could not be touched with a comb, because they seemed to be connected with the nerves of her eye, while only two days before it had made my own eyes water merely to look at hers, and the discharge smelt very badly. Now there is nothing of the kind to be seen, no more than if nothing had ailed her. However, not to make too sure of so wonderful a favor without good grounds, it was thought proper to send for M. Delanqay, who had seen her a short time before, and indeed had frequently seen her since she left off using the lo tion of M. de Chatillon. He thought the eye so diseased that it must inevitably be cauterized, and explained his reasons for this very clearly. He will be here to-day without fail ; and by God's help, I will send you word what he thinks now, and why he was sure that fire alone could effect a oure, that is, if he come early enough, if not, I will write on Tuesday. D.V. It is a double - mercy to be both favored of God and hated of men. Pray for us, that God may keep us from being puffed up by the first or dejected by the last, and give us grace to look on both as the effect of his mercy. I am particularly glad that I had nothing to do with this miracle personally, because now my joy and thankfulness are unmingled with fear Farewell. M. Delanqay has now seen Maggie, and considers the cure a perfect and miraculous one. He has appointed a week to make sure that there is no relapse. Till then, it is not to be spoken of. To Madame Perier on the same subject : — Friday Afternoon, March 31, 1656. M. Del an ^ay came this morning The state of the child's eye when he saw it about two months since,* it convinced him * Jaqueline enters into details of her niece's sufferings, which are too sickening to bear repetition. JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOBN. 186 that she must have it cauterized this very spring, because delay would only allow the bone to decay still further, and the con sequences might be so dreadful that they scarcely dared to tell me of them. It was possible that her nose might fall off, and half her face be eaten away. However, he did not despair of curing her by raeans of fire, neither did he feel very confi dent of success, but said that no other earthly remedy could avail. When M. Delanqay carae, she was taken to him without a word. He looked at her in equal silence, turned her round, pressed her eye, put his spatula into her nose, and seemed greatly astonished to find nothing there. He was asked if he did not remember how diseased it was. He answered with much simplicity, " That is what I am hunting for, but I cannot find it." I begged him to look into her mouth He did so, put in his spatula and began to laugh, saying, "There is nothing whatever here." Thereupon my sister Flavia told him what had occurred. He made her go over it again, for he is a very wise and prudent man ; and when he had asked if it went away at once, and the child answered yes, he said that he would at any time furnish a certificate that such a cure 50uld not be wrought unless by miracle. He does not afflrm any more than we do, that the disease will not return, because that is known only to God, but he declares that she is perfectly free from it now, and quite well. These are his own words, or their equivalent. Nevertheless, he advises us to keep it quiet for the present, and to restrain our grateful eraotions within the convent walls as much as we can, for fear of a wromr con struction being put upon them. He did not explain himself any further, but we know that he meant to say " our hour was not yet come ;" and that the words, " This is your hour," are applicable to others. I earnestly desire that the rest of the verse may not be so suitable as it now seems ; for everything whioh opposes itself to the light of truth, may well be called darkness.* He then exhorted the child to profit by so great • Alluding to the Jesuit persecution of Port Royal, nnd their op 186 JAQUELINE PASCAL. a mercy ; and her governess told us that nothing is a more convincing proof of the miracle to her than to see Maggie act as if God really changed her heart, for ever since she has been a much better girl Farewell : pray that the Lord may graciously make my spiritual eyes very healthy, pure and clear-sighted Poet Royal, October 24, 1656. My very dear Sister, Doubtless my brother's dehght has got the better of his indolence, and his account of the conclusion of the mir acle has preceded mine, concerning which there is nothing further to be told, except that sorae eight or ten days ago, the child was examined by regular surgeons in presence of the judge of the Bishop's court, whither she was taken with her sister in a secular dress, and that yesterday or to-day, he pronounced a sentence of approbation or verification, I do not know its right name, on the miraculous cure.- We are con sequently going, on Friday next, by God's help, to perform a solemn Te Deum, and a special mass of thanksgiving. The child will hold a lighted taper in the outer church. We shall thus attempt to display in part, the gratitude that God enables us to feel at heart for so marvellous an interposition. . . . It is the prerogative of God alone to act as God, in bringing the greatest good out of the greatest evil, and the deepest joy out of the heaviest cross. Let us implore him to dispose us always to allow ourselves to be led blindfolded by so certain a guide. Extract of another letter to Mad. Perier. Port Royal, October 30, 1656. My very dear Sister, My brother will not fail to send you several printed copies of the sentence pronounced by the Grand Vicar, and position to the doctriue of ealvation through the grace of Christ alone, JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOBN. 187 you will thereby see that we were commanded to chant amass of thanksgiving on Friday, the 27th instant. The celebration began on the evening before, by our singing hymns on the Holy Crown ; and on Friday the usual services were doubled, and we sang every hour, the choristers remaining in the choir, as is the custom on days of high festival. To complete the whole, my little sister Marguerite (we no longer call her Mag gie) was in the choir among the novices, because the celebra tion was held on her account, although the little girls are not often admitted . Early in the morning the church was crowded, in spite of a heavy rain. There was a little altar erected in our choir near the grating, which was left open. It was dress ed in white, and covered with a handsome calico veil, on which our mother placed the reliquary containing the holy thorn, with a great many lights around it. From this altar the Grand Vicar came to take it up, carrying the crucifix him self, while sixteen deacons accompanied him, bearing wax ta pers. He bore it thence, covered with a canopy, as in the procession of the holy communion, to the High Altar, two deacons carrying incense before it ; and there deposited it on a little decorated stand made expressly for the purpose. Meanwhile all the nuns, with their long veils lowered, chanted the hyran Exite Filice Sion, and the anthem 0 Corona, kneeling behind the grating, and each holding a lighted ta per, so did the child herself, who knelt before the rails in front of our choir, dressed very neatly and modestly in a gray frock and hood. She had two large cushions to kneel'on, in order to be high enough for the people to see her, and they crowded and climbed about wherever they could, so as to get a good view. Then the altar was removed from the choir, and the Grand Vicar said high mass. The chanting to the holy crown was very solemn, and the middle of the grating was left open, that the congregation might have the comfort of beholding the child, who was placed in front on a desk tovercd with a carpet, having a lighted taper before her, and 188 JAQUELINE PASCAL. a chair to sit on when she wished. She remained there as calmly as if it had been her accustomed place, and knelt and rose at the proper time, with as much modesty and grace as if she had had long training. . . . The weather cleared during the ceremony, and the church was not empty during the whole day. So many copies of the Vicar's sentence were sold, at a sou each, that 100 francs were taken merely in the court before the church. I have neither tirae nor ability to speak of ray own feelings on the occasion ; you will appre ciate thera by your own. That which belongs to God is in expressible, and taught far better by experience than words. Let us beseech Hira to enable us never to forget this marvel lous cure, and not to let tirae efface its irapression from our hearts. It will be no less astonishing ten years hence than it is now, to think of such a disease being instantaneously healed. I am forced to leave off, having but one drop of ink left to say that Madame Daumont, who is very kind to us all, sends you the portrait of our little sister Marguerite in copperplate, feeling sure that it would give you pleasure. It bas touched the holy thorn. Adieu, &c. The question of the origin of the miracle we do not propose to discuss. Its authenticity was fuUy estab Ushed, not merely by the surgeons who first witnessed the cure, but by a special investigation, conducted through M. Felix, the king's head surgeon, at the re quest of Anne of Austria, who, disliking the Jansen ists, would have rejoiced to see the miracle disproved. But the queen-mother dared not resist the weight of evidence, nor proceed in her designs against a con vent on which she was convinced that Heaven had set its approving seal. She therefore recalled her lieuten ant, suspended her threatened penalties, and Port JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOBN. 189 Eoyal remained in peace. The gratitude of its in mates must be left to the imagination, for so inevitable had their destruction appeared, that the then Abbess, Madame Suireau des Anges, shut herself up in her cell, and did nothing by day or night, but lift up her heart to God, knowing that no hope of human help was left her. JaqueUne Pascal vented the exuberance of her joy in a long poem, and Port Eoyal, relaxing from its se vere prohibition of poetry, permitted the verses to be published. Sir James Stephen remarks that "time must be at some discount with any man who should employ it in adjusting the balance of improbabities in the case of the Holy Thorn." The same may be said of any one attempting to translate the tedious stanzas, in which Jaqueline, to use her own expression, "sat isfied the impetuosity of a zeal whose warmth forbade her to be silent." The appearance of the Provincial Letters was nearly simultaneous with the miracle. As Pascal, after his conversion, remained firm in his determination to for sake the world, it soon forsook him. He passed much of his time in prayer* and in reading the Scriptures with such dUigence, that he appeared to know the whole Bible by heart, could at once detect any mis quotation, and decide whether or not a doctrine was * It is a fact worthy of notice that those Christians who, like Lu ther, have been most renowned for enduring usefulness iu action or in writing, have invariably devoted the best part of the day to prayer and pious meditation on the word of God. — Rkuohlin. 190 JAQUELINE PASCAL. to be found there, and if so in what place. He also read good commentaries, and while the main object of his studies was personal edification and growth in grace, he was no stranger to the more abstruse ques tions of predestination and man's free-wiU. He had but little acquaintance -with the tenets of the Eeforma tion, and shared the prejudices of Port Eoyal against heretics, being quite unaware how nearly his own be Uef agreed with theirs. His early reverence for reUg ion had changed into a tender yet glowing love for its truths, and this love urged him into an unflinch ing contest with everything that opposed them. None, therefore, need marvel at suddenly beholding him on the battle-field, where with invisible yet potent arm he dealt out such vigorous blows, that the scattered, down-trodden remnant of Jansenists again ralUed, and spread dismay among the ranks of their foes. Margaret Perier, in her memoirs, gives the foUow ing account of the origin and mode of publication of the famous " Letters :" It was M. Pascal who, in 1656, attacked the Jesuit moral ity, and this is how he came to do it. He had gone to Port Royal des Champs, for the purpose of passing some time in retirement, as he often did. The Sorbonne was then busy with the condemnation of M. Arnauld, who was likewise at Port Royal. The gentlemen there all begged him to write in his own defence, saying, " Are you going to let yourself be con demned like a child, that has nothing to say for itself?" Ho wrote, therefore, and read his production to them all, but no one gave it any praise. M. Arnauld, who did not cov- ' JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOBN. 191 applause, then said : " I see very clearly that you think this a poor performance, and I believe you are in the right ;" and turning to M. Pascal, he added, " But you, who are young, ought to do something." M. Pascal wrote the first Provin cial Letter, and read it to them. M. Arnauld cried, " That is excellent, every one will like it, it must be printed." This was done, the success it had is well known, and the work went on. M. Pascal, who rented a house in Paris, went to an inn where he was not known, and remained there at work, under the name of M. de Mons. It was at the sign of King David, in the Rue des Poiriers, just opposite the College of Cler mont, now called the College of Louis the Great. M. Perier, his brother-in-law, who was then in Paris, took lodgings in the same inn, as a stranger from the country, not letting the relationship be known. Father Defretal, a Jesuit, related both to M. Pascal and M. Perier, called on the latter, and told him that, being a relative, he was glad to be able to give him warning, that the Society of Jesuits were firmly persuaded that M. Pascal, his brother-in-law, was the author of those little letters against them which had such a run in Paris, and that M. Perier would do well to warn him and advise him to stop writing them, or he might find himself in trouble. M. Perier thanked hira, but said it would be a useless task, for M. Pas cal would answer that he could not help their suspicions, since if he were to disavow the authorship, they would not believe him, and therefore, if they chose to suspect him, there was no remedy. The Jesuit then went away, repeating that he ought to be warned and to beware. M. Perier was greatly relieved by his .departure, for there was at that very time a score of copies of the seventh or eighth letter spread out upon his bed to dry. Luckily the curtains were drawn, and a Jesuit brother, who had accompanied Father Dufretal, and sat near the bed, did not perceive it. M. Perier immediately ran upstairs to tell M. Pascal, whose room was overhead, though tlie Jesuits had no idea of his being so near them. 192 JAQUELINE PASCAL. " The immortal Provincials," called by the exasper ated Jesuits " the immortal liars," were printed in the immediate neighborhood of the Jesuits' College, where it was rightly supposed that no one would dream of discovering the author. Their circulation was im mense, and the effect prodigious. The Chancellor, a warm ally of the Jesuits, became so enraged, that it was necessary for him to be let blood seven times ; a remedy appUed in those days to all sorts of disease, whether of the mind or body. The secret intrigues of Port Eoyal had long been complained of by their opponents, but the latter now saw themselves the ob jects of a more dangerous, though an open attack, di rected by a chieftain at once skilftd and unseen. The first letter .was dated January 23, 1656. The country-friend to whom Louis de Montalte (the as sumed name of Pascal*) imparted such lively com ments on Parisian church affairs, is supposed to have been his brother-in-law, Mons. Perier. The Port Eoy alists had at first some scruples concerning the lawful ness of using the carnal weapons of satire and wit against the enemies of truth. Singlin, in particular, felt that merriment was out of place when applied to religious subjects. Success, however, proved in this case the test of propriety as well as genius, and aU at * And an allusion probably to the h'lgh mountains of his Dative Auvergne. One of those lofty eminences, the Puy de Dome, was con nected with the decisive experiments also ag to his own discovery of the pressure of the atmosphere. JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOEN. 193 length acquiesced in the employment of measures both ianocent in themselves, and more than sanctified by fhe result. " There is something sublime," says EeuchUn, " in mirth amidst the fearful perils then threatening the little flock of Port Eoyal. The man who can jest when his vessel is foundering, either must be godless — or his confidence in God must be strong indeed." Yet Pascal, whUe relying on God's help and cheer fuUy doing battle for the right, looked well to the fastenings of his armor. Perfect as was his mastery of style,* he was so anxious that every word should be well chosen and effective, as in one instance to have re-written a letter (the 18th) thirteen times. The end attained was well worth the labor. As to their contents, they are thus characterized by Tregelles : In these remarkable letters, Pascal showed with extraordi nary force how narrow the question really was — whether five propositions are in the Angustinus or not — when no one had there pointed thera out ; he showed by what unworthy com promises the conderanation of Arnauld h,id been obtained, and besides touching on doctrinal points which were involved, he firmly and manfully attacked the shameless casuistry of the Jesuits. These letters had a wondferful efficiency, for their power was felt even by those who had no apprehension of the present subjects of controversy. Pasoal gave such ex- * That exquisitely natural styJe, so identified with the writer's Boul, that it may be characterized as Thought herself, robed in her own chaste nudity, like an antique statue — Fadsieek 194 .lAQUELINE PASCAL. tracts from the approved writings of the order as filled men with amazement. At first he printed then without referring to the works cited : the Jesuits denied sucli abominable opin ions to be raaintained by their approved writers. Pasoal then pointed out the places from which he had quoted. The dis covery ought to have covered the Jesuits with confusion ; but by way of answer, they cried out that the writer of the letters Was a heretic, and that a heretic raust not be believed'' The epistles of Jaqueline more than once refer to the Provincial Letters. We may therefore conclude that the nuns were allowed to hear them, and perhaps for once, despite St. Benedict, to indulge in the luxury of a hearty laugh. Before we arrive at the period of the persecution and the stormy close of Jaqueline's life, several inter esting letters demand attention. One is addressed to her nieces Jaqueline and Margaret Perier, then at Port Eoyal de Paris, and is believed by M. Cousin to be the only specimen of her hand-writing now extant. He obtained it from M. Hecquet d'Orval, the descend ant of M. Hecquet, a celebrated Jansenist physician of the seventeenth century. To my dear sisters Marie Jaqueline and Margaret Euphemie Perier : — Poet Royal des Champs, February 10, 1660. My very dear Nieces, You have so much reason to complain of ine that I cannot find any excuse for myself. It will therefore be a shorter way to ask tho forgiveness which I doubt not you will JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOEN. 195 gi-ant ; for if I were to bring forward some excuse that was not exactly true, I should both injure myself and set you a very bad example. I hope my delay in writing has not raade you forget your promise to pray for rae often, for you have been taught too carefully to be capable of rendering evil for evil. For which reason, though you have cause to imagine I had forgotten you, I cannot think that you have wished to do the same by rae. If you had, you would have done me a great injustice, for 1 can assure you, my dear sisters, that it seems to me as if I could forget rayself ere I forget you, and the less I testify my love for you, the more I feel it. For as love is a fire burning in the heart, it raust of necessity be active, and when it has no outward vent, the flame is concentrated within, that is, provided weakness or dulness be not the occasion of its ceas ing to appear outwardly. In that case the warmth unques tionably lessens as the flame goes down, like a fire which has no draught, and is suffered to go out for lack of fuel. But I feel as though I could unhesitatingly assure you that ray love for you is not of this nature. It rather resembles a fire closely packed together, which diffuses all the more heat, because it does not waste its strength over a large surface. See, my depj sisters, how I have unconsciously allowed my pen to run on in assuring you how much I love you. I pray to our Lord that He may kindle His holy love in all our hearts, and make it the solo source of the love we feel for one another ; for without this, that love would only be a carnal friendship, and would not benefit us. I know that you will try to love me in this way ; but since I do not believe you are as yet sufiiciently advanced to obtain from God whatever you ask, I entreat you to procure for me the prayers of my sister Flavia, whom you must assure of my regard, as well as those of your other mistresses, if our Mother is willing to allow you, and also to salute them from me. Good-bye, my dear sisters, I am entirely yours, in Him 196 JAQUELINE PASCAL. who is our All, and in whose presence we are nothing. Pray to Him that I may be made worthy to pray for you. 8. J. DB St. Euphemie. Rse. Ide. (religieuse indigue), An unworthy nun. The sister Angelique de St. Jean was about a year older than Jaqueline Pascal. Being a daughter of Eobert Arnauld d'Andilly, and therefore niece to the Abbesses Angdlique and Agnes, she was brought up under their care from early childhood. Her wonder ful genius and penetrating intellect caused them often to recommend her to the prayers of their friends in these terms, "Ask that God may fill her with His Holy Spirit, for if she does not do good, she wUl do a great deal of harm. She took the veil at the age of seventeen, and became one of the brightest lights of Port Eoyal, being very pious and lowly-minded as well as intelligent. She seems to have possessed the true artistic temperament, evidenced both by her early skiU in modelling, and the glowing yet life-like tone in which, her contributions to the History of Port Eoyal are written. Her " Character of the Abbess Agnes" is almost a poem, and her own history was poetry in action. She stood foremost among those nuns whom the enraged Archbishop of Paris styled "pure as an gels, yet proud as devils," and bore a long captivity with dauntless fortitude. Her memoirs of the perse cution form one of the most touching chapters in the annals of feminine endurance for the snke of truth. JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOEN. 197 After having been twice Abbess, she died in 1684, at the age of fifty-nine, from grief at the death of her cousin and spiritual guide, M. de Saci, whom she only survived three weeks. In 1659 she was sent to Port Eoyal de Paris to fill the office of Sub-prioress and Mistress of the Novices there, which was Jaqueline Pascal's post at Port Eoyal des Champs. During her absence, her younger sister, who had taken the veU under the name of Anne Marie de Sainte Eugenie, died, and Jaqueline on the same day despatched to Angelique de St. Jean the following account of her last moments : — My very dear Sister, You would have a right to complain of me, if I did not attempt to give you sorae comfort in our mutual loss of that poor child. I hardly know anything that would pain me more than her past suff'erings and the sad separation have done. Yet both are so mingled with consolation, that it is difficult to say which is the stronger and more justifiable feel ing ; my grief for the loss of one who seeraed nearer to me than if she had been a relative, or my joy and gratitude for the grace of God manifested towards one for whora I was bound to implore it. Her holy frame of mind was more es pecially displayed when her illness was at its height. It seems as if God had prolonged her life, against all likelihood, for the last week, only to show us what His grace had effected. She did not really think that she should not recover, until two hours before her death, and this shows that her piety was genuine, and did not arise from a sense of immediate danger. For she expected to recover, though she did not desire it, and iiide(>d rather wished for death than feared it, especially since M. Singlin's last vi.sit. 198 JAQUELINE PASCAL. The poor child, feeling very ill, went to the coraraunion as a sick person, a little fearful how so violent an attack might terminate, but otherwise in a very happy frame, for it delight ed her to think that her illness was sent as a chastisement, and her greatest alarm, next to the fear of death, was lest she might not be made better by it, or might not en dure il with sufficient patience. God graciously removed frora hei afterwards all fear of death, and every reason for her other fears, for she was so gentle and good a patient, that all who attended on her were greatly edified. And we may believe this to have been the work of grace rather than the effect of bodily weakness, because on Monday week I perceived that she had strong objections to swallow ing a drink, which to all appearance was the only thing that kept her alive from that time until to-day, and that while she drank water to quench her thirst very eagerly, she only took the medicine by drops. I said to her, very gently, that since God had sent this illness as a chastisement, she ought to aid its effect by willingly submitting to all the remedies which necessarily accompanied it. This irapressed her so forcibly, that ever afterwards she took whatever was offered her, and could not bear to have any one pity her, but would overcome the great pain it gave her to speak, in order to say that her sufferings were nothing, and not worthy to be compared with those of many other persons. She showed to the last a deep gratitude for every thing that was done for her, and her humility was such, that she really felt herself to deserve nothing. She often complained that her weakness prevented her from praying to God ; and yesterday she asked me very earnestly if she ought not to repeat at least one of the daily prayers. I answered that her illness was sufficient excuse ; but she said with a sigh, " That would be true if I bore it properly, but I am so sinful ;" and then she confessed some trifling impatience. I told her that the illness which produced these faults was their apology, and JANSENISM AND THE HOLY THOEN. 199 that as to her devotions, she need only lift up her heart to God when she remerabered it was prayer-time. This gave her peace, or I should say, kept her in peace, for her peace, thank God, was uninterrupted. She confessed yesterday evening, but we did not think her so near her end. I believe that her mind was singularly col lected during confession. The last time that she saw M. Sing lin she spoke quite as freely and intelligently as she had evei- done, and this morning she seemed so bright and talked so readily, that I was never more surprised than on hearing after mass that the death-rattle had beg-uii. We hurried to her at once, and found her commencing the last agony, but so con scious, that I was terribly alanned lest she should be troubled at the approach of death. But God was more gracious to her than I had dared to hope. Neither the Mother Prioress nor I left her again, and it comforted her greatly when from time to time we repeated something to lift her thoughts to God. About noon, she turned to me, and knowing that I was grieved to see her suf fer, she said, " Your poor child is very sick." I answered, " Yes, she suffers greatly," for she was shivering frora head to foot. She replied, " True, but it is nothing, if I could only hope to be pardoned." I tried to encourage her, and in a little while she said, " What a comfort it is to die under your care 1" This convinced me that she was aware of her situation, and I told her that the Superior had gone to fetch M. de Saci. She seemed very glad, and soon after said, " M. de Saci does not come," then correcting herself, she iold us not to hurry him, lest it should be inconvenient. However, I sent for him again, seeing that she was rapidly sinking. While they were gone for M. de Saci, she said, " You had better begin the prayers," which I did. The poor child made all the responses, kissing the crucifix which she held. Her pulse grew stronger, and thinking that it might continue so, M. de Saci and the community retired. Then I asked her 200 JAQUELINE PASCAL. if she had not firm faith in God's mercy. She replied with deep feeling, " I do not know whether I ara worthy to have faith in it." I told her that we could not trust His mercy too fully, because it is infinite. She understood me perfectly. Afterwards I asked if she were not very glad to die a nun, and she attempted to manifest her great gratitude for such favor. Shortly after, the Mother Prioress repeated a prayer, to whioh she listened attentively. Seeing her fail so fast, we thought she ought to receive the communion once more, though she had taken it and undergone extreme unction on the fourteenth day of her sickness. She showed a strong desire to do so, and I believe her last words were on this sub ject ; for immediately afterwards, while the room was being prepared, she was struck with death so suddenly, that we had hardly time to call M. de Saci and the community, and they had: but 'ust entered the room, when her breath ceased so gently that we could scarcely perceive it. These, dear sister, are great reasons for consolation, or they seem so to me. I have no time to add more, because the letters are called for. From Port Royal des Champs, Oct. 7, 1660. The last letters written by JaqueUne to her brother and Madame Perier are very cheerful in their tone, although, as we see, the multitude of her cares in the Noviciate had prevented her from wishing Pascal a happy new-year until November. November 16, 1660. Good morning and a happy new-year to you, my dearest brother, for you will not doubt my having wished you this most cordially when the year began, though I could not tell you so until its close. I dare say you wonder at ray raention- ing it at all, but it is right that the wish should end where it began, and I assure you that my complete dedication of this year to God has not robbed you of anything you had reason to expect from me, for I have prayed for you continually. O when I think how peacefully this season of separation, which we naturally expected would prove so painful, has passed away, and how swiftly this year has fled, time seems of such small importance that I cannot help longing for eternity. But I am not going on with so extensive a train of thought, which I indeed commenced unintentionally To your self I say nothing; you ought to judge of my love by your own, and to be certain that I ara entirely yours in Hira who has united us more closely in t'ne bonds of grace than in those of nature. 9* 202 JAQUELINE I'ASUAL, Early in the following yea:- she congratulated Mad Perier on the youthful piety of her two daughters and her eldest son, Etienne Perier.* The latter was born at Eouen, and educated under the eye of his grandfather Pascal until the latter's death, when he was sent to school at Port Eoyal. Like the rest of the family, he showed great precocity of intellect. Mar garet Perier relates that when he was hardly five years old, and his mother was one day trying to teach him from the catechism, that God is a spirit, and has neither beginning nor end, he observed, " I can under stand how God has no end, but not how it is that He never had a beginning." Madame Perier told him that it was nevertheless a truth which all persons were requUed to believe whether they understood it or not. " WUl the saints understand it in Heaven?" asked the chUd. She replied that in Heaven the saints are to see God as He is, and to know Him perfectly. " What a great reward!" was the answer of the infant meta physician. TO MADAME PEEIEE. Poet Royal des Champs, March 24, 1661. The retirement of this season of the year may prevent ine from sending you a full letter, dear sister, but cannot excuse me from writing at all, because I have only to communicate * Etienne Perier did not ultimately fulfil the wishes and prayers of his aunt, by embracing a monastic life, although his piety was un doubted. Having been driven, together with their other pupils, from the schools of the recluses, when persecution broke these up, he after- PEESECUTION AND DEATH. 203 what is holy, namely, the effects of God's mercy, of which we have already had an earnest. For you know that bodily healing is but an instalment of good, a token, so to speak, worth far more than it is in itself. This is beginning to prove true in a double sense, for while the wonderful miracle only cured one of your daughters, we have now reason to hope that both will be secured from the evil that is in the world. The elder has spoken admirably to M. de Eebours, and as for the younger, she is so devout, that if her state of mind continues, wo shall not be able to help admitting her among the novices at an earlier age than usual, if, as I suppose, you and her father both intend to give her up to God. She says that her miracle is au especial privilege, and we can hardly avoid the same conclusion. And your eldest son, too, has been to see M. Singlin, and opened his mind to him, saying that he is quite disgusted with the world, and only desiras to enter upon a religious life. M. Singlin did his best to try him, even telling him that his father was so excellent a man and so great a judge, that it was to be hoped he would follow in his steps, and that to dispense justice rightly was a service well-pleasing to God. But this consideration did not move him in the least then, and still less afterwards, for M. Singlin seeing him so firm, took his part, and encouraged him, to the best of his ability, in his design, which is very good. He means to live with M. de Tillemont* and M. du Fosse, who are two of the best people that can be found anywhere. M. Singlin ordered me to write you woi'd of this, notwithstanding Lent, that you and his father may both rejoice and give thanks to God, etc. wards turned his attention to mathematics iitid the bar, succeeded his father as Counsellor of the Court of Excise at Clermont, was married in 1678, and died two years afterwards. He held all the opinions of his uncle Pascal, took an active part in the arrangement of the Pensees, and wrote the preface. * A good Jansenist, one of the gi'catest names among all the writers of ecclc'iiastioal history, and of Avhnse exact and profound remarks tho uiSdi'l Gibbou niiikcs large and coustant use. 204 JAQUELINE PASOAL. While the arrows of the Provincial Letters were penetrating even to the remotest parts of the kingdom, and rousing all who had any ground of complaint against the Jesuits, to take part in the onset against them, headed by Pascal, the new Gideon, that knew not St. Cyran, while the provincial assemblies of cler gymen originally convened in opposition to the " fait" of the five propositions, were openly censuring the Jesuit morality, and while the disciples of Loyola had much ado to stand their ground in the provinces, in Paris they were already meditating a decisive blow at Port Eoyal. The brief respite procured by the Holy Thorn expired with the death of Mazarin and the authority of Anne of Austria. The young king, Louis XrV., had been trained up in the abhorrence of Jansenism, and at his command a synod of French clergy drew up an anti-Jansenist test, to be taken by all ecclesiastics and communities, from which there was no escape. All were required, under penalties of extreme severity, to sign a declaration that the five heretical propositions were to be found in the book of Jansenius, with no exception on behalf of those who had never seen the volumes, or who could not read Latin. The Formulary ran thus : I sincerely submit to the constitution of Pope Innocent X., of May 31, 1653, according to its true sense, as defined by the constitution of our holy Father, Pope Alexander VIL, of October 16, 1656. I acknowledge myself bound in eonsoience PEESECUTION AND DEATH. 205 to obey this constitution, and I condemn, from my heart, and with my mouth, the doctrine of the five propositions of Cor nelius Jansenius, which are contained in the book entitled " Augustinus," which both these popes and the bishops have condemned ; and this doctrine is not of St. Augustine, which Jansenius has falsely set forth ; but contrary to the true sense of the holy doctor. It was of course impossible for the Port Eoyalists to sign such a document, and their crafty enemies, the Jesuits, were not likely to grant them any quarter. " Persecution," says Tregelles, " now commenced in earnest. The dungeons of the Bastile were crowded with those who refused to violate their consciences by subscribing what they did not believe. The very passages of the fortress were occu pied by prisoners. M. de Saci, the nephew of the Mere An gelique, carried on during this imprisonment his well-known version of the Holy Scriptures. Henri Arnauld, Bishop of Anjou, and three other bishops, refused to accept the formu lary, let the consequences be what they might. But it was upon Port Royal that the principal fury of the tempest dis charged itself." In April, 1661, an order from the court enjoined the two recusant convents to send all their scholars and novices back to the famUies from whence they came. The M^re Angelique, then at an advanced age, and suffering from the disease (dropsy) of which she soon afterwards died, took a solemn farewell of the nuns at Port Eoyal des Champs, and removed to Paris, in order to be present at the dispersion, saying, as she 206 JAQUELINE PASCAL. stepped into the carriage, to her brother M. d'Andilly, who was standing by, '' Farewell, brother, keep up a good heart, let what will happen." He answered, " Fear nothing, sister, I am full of courage." " Yet let us be humble," said she, " remembering that hu mility without firmness, is cowardice, but courage without humility, is presumption." Terrible was the struggle of parting in both houses, although the Abbesses did all they could to inspire faith and fortitude in the hearts of their charge, and set an example of mingled courage and submission themselves. On her arrival in Paris, Angelique had the pain of seeing seventy-five scholars, novices, and postulants removed by force from the shelter of Port Eoyal. Jaqueline and Margaret Perier were sent to their mother, who was then living in the Eue St. Etienne du Mont, Paris, and their aunt soon afterwards wrote them a letter of consolation and warning, advising them to retire as much as possible from society. " I do not," she says, " mean you to be discourteous, nor to seclude yourselves entirely, but to seek retirement when not absolutely obUged to mingle in society, and when you are, to snatch a few moments frequently for communion with God." The nuns were soon exposed to personal trials. One of the Grand Vicars of the Archbishopric of Paris was sent to Port Eoyal for the purpose of ques tioning them as to their belief Jaqueline wrote down PERSECUTION AND DEATH. 207 the details of her own examination, which were after wards published in the " History of the Persecutions of the Port Eoyalist Nuns." After asking ray name, and praising Saint Eupheraia very highly, he (the Commissioner) inquired if I had not perceived a change in the doctrines inculcated in the convent, since my residence there. I told him that I had not been an inmate very long, and could only say that nothing had been said to me on matters of faith, which I had not learnt in ray child hood. Question. Did you, when a child, learn that Jesus Christ died for all men ? Answer. I do not recollect that it was so stated in my cate chism. Q, Since your residence here, have you been taught any thing on this subject ? A. No. Q. What is your own opinion ? A. I ara not accustoraed to dive into matters unconnected with duty, but it seems tq me that we ought to believe that Christ died for all men, for I remember some lines in a volume of devotion, which I owned before I took the veil, and have kept ever since, where, addressing our Saviour, it says : " For the salvation of all men. Thou didst humble Thyself to be born of a virgin." He smiled a little at this, and said, " Very good, but how coraes it then that so many are lost eternally ?" A. I confe.ss to you, sir, that this thought often troubles me, and when I am praying, especially if kneeling before a cruci fix, and it recurs to me, I cannot help saying internally to our Lord, " O my God ! how can it be, after all Thou hast done for us, that so many souls should raiserably perish ? But when these thoughts come, I repress them, not daring to pry mto the secrets of God, and I find satisfaction in praying for 208 JAQUELINE PASCAL. sinners. He replied : " That is quite right, ray daughter. What books do you read ?" A. At present, St. Basil on Morality, which has lately been translated, but more often my rule (the rule of St. Benedict). Q. How are you occupied ? A. Before the novices and candidates for the veil were re moved, I took the charge of those who were here. But now the number is limited to a few nuns, a novice, and some lay sisters. Q. It was a hard trial for you when the novices were re moved, was it not ? In answer to this, I enlarged considerably, not showing any resentment, but dwelling on the grief they felt, and the dangers to which they were exposed in the world. This seemed to touch him also, and then he said : " Do you teach your novices that Christ died for all men, and the rea son why sorae raen are holy and others wicked ?" A. As I avoid puzzling myself with these topics, it is not likely that I should seek to puzzle them. On the contrary, I try to have them as simple-minded as possible. He answered, " That is right. And do you teach them that they alone are to blame when they do wrong ? Or do you not believe this yourself?" A. Yes, sir, and I know it by my own experience. I as sure you that when I commit a fault, I blame no one but my self, and for this reason I endeavor to repent and atone for it. He said, " You are right, and God be praised for it. I believe you are speaking to me in all sincerity ?" A. Yes, sir, as in the sight of God. He added, "I believe you, and God's name be praised that it is so. My daughter, always maintain this belief, whatever you may hear, and teach it to the novices. I thank God with my whole heart for having kept you from erroi- ; for it is really horrible that any man should be found to teach that God draws some from the corrupt mass, and leaves others to perish as it pleases llim. It is horrible. God be praised PEESECUTION AND DEATH. 209 that you have not fallen into this great error. Have you no complaints to make ?" A. No, sir; by God's grace, I am quite contented. He said, "That is wonderful; I sometimes raeet with nuns who keep rae two whole hours listening to their complainings but I find nothing of the sort here." A. It is true, sir, that by the grace of God we do live in great peace and harmony. I think it is because each one doea her own duty, not meddling with that of others. He ex claimed, "Ah, that is indeed a blessing, God be praised for it, my daughter. Send me the sister next in order to yourself." * " Every effort that could be devised was put forth to make the nuns sign the formulary. How could they be so obstinate in their own opinions; to the matter in question — whether certain propositions are in a book or not — such, that it should be treated as one of great importance ? Why should such a point be made about upholding the writings and opinions of one man ? " The replies to these considerations were simple and easy. It was not the magmtvde of the point at issue, but its truth that gave it its importance. They did not believe the propositions were in Jansenius, they could not therefore declare them to be there: they did not believe that Jansenius had misrepresented St. Augustine, nor could they on such grounds say that he had done so. And as to maintaining one person's opinions, they could only say that they had not raised • " The Jansenists : their Else and Sufferings. A chapter in Church History," by S. P. Tregelles, L.LD. London: 1851. 210 JAQUELINE PASCAL. the controversy, but those who had impugned Jansen ius. As to themselves personally, the nuns stated that the work of Jansenius being in Latin, they could not declare on oath what its contents might be, for they had not even read it ; they knew, however, that no one had pointed out the propositions, as condemned, in the work itself" Meanwhile Arnauld and the other men of note belonging to the Jansenist party held many consulta tions on the best method of evading the snare so craftily laid for them by the Jesuits. Their dUemma was cruelly painful. If, by signing the formulary, they asserted that the five propositions were in the Augustinus, thej would be guilty of falsehood ; and, on the other hand, if they refused to sign, the destruc tion of the convents was inevitable, and the helpless nuns must become the first victims. The suggestion of a compromise was therefore eagerly caught at, and a treaty with the archbishopric of Paris began, for the purpose of obtaining a modifled declara tion (mandement) that might be subscribed without the signers becoming guilty of high treason against conscience. Many were the outlines of the desired compact between sincerity and prudence, and great was the division of opinion between the Jansenist leaders on the propriety of signing at all. Arnauld and Nicole, for the sake of the nuns, were in favor of a signature to be given with certain reserva- tioDs, but Pascal, though confined to his bed by illness. PEESECUTION AND DEATH. 211 had already made his election, and determined at all hazards to abide by the truth. Ho felt convinced that the Pope, by condemning the work of Jansenius, not only proved that he misunderstood its meaning, but vir tually condemned the doctrines of justification by faith. and salvation by grace, which the Apostles taught, and for which the primitive church and St. Augustine had contended. It grieved him, he said, to find himself in a strait between God and the Pope, but he could not sanction the sacrifice of truth to expediency, knowing such a course to be wrong, and believing it to be use less. Arnauld and Nicole urged that it was disre spectful to the Pope and the Bishops to assert that they had condemned the doctrines of grace, as well as prejudicial to the doctrines themselves to have it gen erally known that they were given up by the great mass of ecclesiastics in authority, and only defended by a small clique. But Pascal was stubborn in his un conscious Protestanism, and would not admit any con sideration as superior to the duty of maintaining God's fruth against all odds. He did not object, however, to the nuns' signing the modified formulary, provided they made a distinct exception in favor of the mean ing of Jansenius, and of the doctrines of grace. The last conference was held in his chamber, when the majority of those present, yielding to the influence of Arnauld and Nicole, voted for the signature. " Seeing which," says Margaret Perier, " M. Pascal, who loved truth more than all things else, and who, in spite of 212 JAQUELINE PASCAL. his weakness, had spoken with great earnestness in order to impress his own convictions upon the others, was so overcome with grief that he became suddenly faint, and lost both voice and consciousness. Great astonishment ensued, and remedies were eagerly ap plied, after which the gentlemen all went away, except M. de Eoannez and M. Domat* (Pascal's most intimate friends), and Etienne Perier. When Pascal had quite recovered his senses, Madame Perier asked him what had occasioned the swoon? He replied, "When I beheld so many persons to whom I believe that God has made known His truth, and who ought to be its defenders, thus giving way, I confess to you such a feeling of distress came over me, that I could not bear it, nor keep myself from fainting." In this conjuncture, Jaqueline Pascal manifested the same intrepid and fiery disposition as her brother. Indeed, the women of Port Eoyal, as a general thing, displayed more decision and courage than its men. Witness the expressions with which Angelique, though bowed under the weight of age and infirmity, sus tained the drooping spirits of the desolate nuns. "What! do I see you in tears? my children; what do those tears mean? — have you no faith? Are you afraid of the wrath of men ? They are but flies who spread their wings and make a little noise. You hope in God, how then can you be alarmed ? Believe me, * One of the most eminent of the French writers on the civil law, and a 6rm Jansenist. PEESECUTION AND DEATH. 213 if WO fear Him, all will go well ;" — or her reply to the Duchess de Luynes, who was congratulating her on the possession of so much courage, "Madame, so long as God continues to be God, I shall hope in Him and not be afraid." Public and private seasons of special prayer were of course appointed in both con vents, and it was with the utmost reluctance that the nuns at length submitted to the decision of their con fessors, and signed the qualified declaration. The prioress of Port Eoyal des Champs, Marie de Ste Madeline Dufargis, and the sub-prioress, Jaqueline Pascal, refused for a long time to sign. " Jaqueline, strange to say, though not aware of what had passed in the meetings held at Paris, used the same argu ments, and even some of the same words which Pas cal had done. She could not understand, any more than he, how men, claiming to be the defenders of the truth, could possibly abandon it on any consideration of expediency. Her intrepid heart, brought face to face with danger, broke forth in proud yet pathetic strains, which remind us of some of the finest passages in the Provincial Letters. We ask," says M. Cousin, " of all who yet retain any sympathy with energy of character, and with the beauty of an unselfish love for truth, if they have ever met with many pages of greater sublimity and strength than these which we are about to lay before them ?" In June, 1661, Jaque line addressed the following letter to the M^re AngiSl- ique de Saint Jean. It was afterw.ard.s inserted in 214 JAQUELINE PASOAL. the " History of the Persecutions of the Port Eoyal Nuns ":— PoBT Royal des Champs, June 25, 1661. My very dear Sister, The little notice that has hitherto been taken of our scruples in regard to giving our assent to the treaty now under deliberation, would pi-event me from recapitulating them now, since they seem to be thought of such slight importance, did the thing admit of delay. I think it, however, my duty to tell you that the difficulties stated by me in writing to our Mother, referred only to the " Mandement," a copy of which, by a most singular chance, fell into our hands. Had our anx ieties been at all regarded, or had our remonstrances produced any efiect, I should say it had been sent to us by the provi dence of God. The feelings of the entire sisterhood upon this subject are now unanimous. Yet we distinctly understand the pretence thatthe requisition of our signatures only binds us to submission to the Church, that is, to silence on matters of fact, and be lief in matters of faith. But the time for this has gone by. Most of us heartily wish that something worse had been de manded, (knowing that in the times wherein we live, it were vain to hope for anything better,) because, if it were worse, we should all feel at full liberty to reject it, while as it is, many will be almost constrained to accept it, and false pru dence or real cowardice will cause many others to embrace it as an easy mode of procuring safety for the conscience, and for the body as well. But for my own part, I ara convinced that in such a course there can be safety neither for body nor soul. Truth is the only real Liberator, and she makes none free but those who strike off her own fetters — who bear wit- ne.ss to her with a fidelity that entitles them to be acknowl edged as the true children of God the True. I cannot any longer conceal the regret which rives my V6iy PEESECUTION AND DEATH. 215 soul when I see the only persons to whom God has committed His own truth so unfaithful to it, and, if I may be allowed the term, destitute of the cour.ige necessary to brave suffering and even death by its open confession. I am well aware of the reverence that is due to the authori ties of the Church. I would gladly lay down my life in ordei to preserve that reverence inviolate, just as in the present juncture I am prepared, by God's help, to die for the con fession of my faith, but it seeras to me that nothing can be easier than to unite the two. What is to prevent us — what is to prevent every ecclesiastic cognizant of the truth from answering, when the formulary is presented for signature, " I know that I ara bound to respect their Lordships the Bishops, but my conscience does not allow me to subscribe the state ment that anything is contained in a book which I cannot discover in that book," and then quietly to await the result ? What are we afraid of ? Banishment and dispersion for the nuns, the seizure of property, prison, death if you will, — but are not these things our glory, and ought we not therein to rejoice ? Let us either give up the Gospel, or let us carry out its principles, and esteem ourselves happy in sufiering for the truth's sake. But we may perhaps be oast out from the Church ! True, and yet who does not know that no one can be really detached from the Church except by his own will ? The spirit of Jesus Christ is the tie that binds His members to Himself and to one another, and though the outward signs of that union may be taken from us, its effect cannot be taken so long as we retain the spirit of love, without which no one is a living member of that holy body. Is it not plain, there fore, so long as we do not erect altar against altar, while we are not wretched enough to form a schismatic church, and while we continue within the limits of simple remonstrance, and raeek endurance of persecution, that the charity which leads us to love our enemies must of necessitv attach us to 216 JAQUELINE PASCAL. the Church by inviolable bonds. Our enemies alone will have excommunicated themselves, since the divisions they are try ing to produce do but sever the bond of charity which once united them to Jesus Christ, and rendered thera members of his body. Alas ! my dear sister, what joy ought we not to feel, if we are permitted to endure some special reproach for (Christ's sake 1 But there is too much pains taken to prevent this, when truth is so skilfully painted with the colors of false hood, that she cannot be recognized, and the most keen-sighted can with difficulty detect her. Yet I admire the ingenuity of the huraan mind, as dis played iu the perfection with which the " Mandement" is drawn up. It must be a rare thing, I should think, to find a piece of writing composed with equal art and skill. Had it been the work of a heretic, I should consider it worthy of high praise for its adroitness in evading punishment without recant ing error ; just as the head of a family might not be able to help marvelling at the ingenuity with whioh his steward had cheated him, by tacitly consenting to a falsehood, although he may not have actually told one. But for the faithful — for persons who know and maintain truth — for members of the Catholic Church to stoop to such disguises, and to play fast and loose 1 I cannot believe that such a thing was ever thought of in priraitive ages, and I pray God this day rather to strike us all dead, than to suffer such an aboraination to be introduced into the Church ! I find it difficult, dear sister, I assure you, to believe that this sort of wisdom comes from the Father of lights, for it seems far more like a revelation of flesh and blood. Forgive me, my dear sister, I beg. I speak in the agony of a grief which I am certain will kill me, unless I have the consolation of seeing that some are willing to come forward as martyrs for the faith, to protest either by refusal or by flight against the acts of others, and to become themselves cham- PEESECUTION AND DEATH. 217 pions of the truth. Not that I am desirous that any uncalled- for declaration should be raade, especially at the present time, when the enemies of truth are so envenomed and powerful. By the way, you are doubtless aware that the condemnation of a holy bishop (Jansenius) is by no means the only question in debate. His condemnation includes that of the doctrine of our Saviour's grace. If, therefore, our age be so degenerate that none are found willing to die in defence of a righteous man, is it not far more dreadful to think that no one is dis posed to suffer for the sake of righteousness itself ? However, I do not wish for any one to make a public pro fession of faith, for unquestionably, in the present state of affairs, yes and of persons also, whom God has left to become the slaves of their own will and passions, nothing short of a miracle could save the truth from condemnation. And the more clearly we explained that truth, the more occasion of sin should we furnish to those who are obstinately bent on condemning it. But what I do desire is, that while strictly observing all proper deference towards the powers that be, and making neither accusations nor reproaches, there should at the same time be a firm determination of giving no reason to believe that the truth itself has been condemned, or even evaded. For I ask you, dear sister, in God's name, to teU rae what difference you can find between these evasions and the offering of incense to an idol, as defended by the pretext of having meanwhile a crucifix hidden in one's sleeve ?* You will perhaps say that this does not concern us, because of our own private formulary. But I have two things to say on that head. One is, that St. Bernard teaches us, in his admirable manner, that the most insignificant member of the Church " See the fifth Provincial Letter, Jaqueline here.retorts upon the Jansenists the reproach which Pasoal addressed to the Jesuits for having allowed the Christiivn qouverta in India and China to tosji outward homage to idols, j>royided that they referred that worskip mentally to an image of ^egus Christ hidden under tli^ir ^lotihes. 10 218 JAQUELINE PASCAL. not only may but ought to cry aloud and spare not, when he sees the bishops and pastors of the Church in such a state as we behold them now. Who, says he, can blame me for calling out, though I am but a feeble sheep, if I try to awaken my shepherd when I see him asleep and on the point of being devoured by a wild beast ? Even were I so ungrateful as not to do this out of love and gratitude, ought not a sense of ray own peril to prorapt ray utmost efforts to arouse him. For who is to defend me when my pastor is devoured ? I do not say this in reference to our own spiritual fathers and friends ; I know that they themselves detest every species of duplicity quite as much as I do, but I say it in reference to the general condition of the Church, and to justify the deep interest I take in this matter, both to you and to myself My other answer is, that hitherto I have not been able to give my thorough approval to your formulary as it is. I should like to have a change made in two places. The first at the beginning, because it seems hard for persons like us to offer so freely to give account of our faith. I would do this, however, with a little preamble, explaining away the consequences and the unseemliness of such a confession ; for there is no ques tion but that this whole affair of the required Signature and Declaration of faith is a usurpation of power, which brings very dangerous consequences in its train, more especially as it is demanded by authority of the king. Now I do not consider that private individuals ought to resist that authority, but neither ought they to yield to it without some intimations that they do so, not out of ignorance, or because it is their duty, but as submitting to endure wrong rather than occasion scandal. The second is towards the close, where I would rather not mention the decisions of the Vatican ; for though it is true that we submit to those decisions in matters of faith, yet the vulgar confound fact and right by reason of ignorance, and interested persons choose to confound them by reason of self- will, and thus they are looked upon as one and the same PEESECUTION AND DEATH. 219 thing. What effect, then, would your formulary produce ex cept to make ignorance believe and malice assert that we have agreed to everything, and that we condemn the doctrines of Jansenius, for these are plainly censured in the last bull. I know very well that the defence of truth is not women's business, though in a melancholy sense, it may be affirmed that when bishops seem to have the cowardice of women, women ought to have the boldness of bishops. And if we are not to be defenders of the truth, we can at least die for it, and suffer everything rather than abandon it. A comparison occurs to me, which may serve to illustrate my idea upon the decisions of the Holy See. Though every one knows that the mystery of the Trinity is one of the prom inent articles of our faith, which St. Augustine would unques tionably confess and willingly sign, nevertheless if his native country were in possession of a pagan prince, who wished to have the unity of God denied, and a plurality of deities ac knowledged, and supposing that some of the Christians in order to quiet the commotions excited by such a proceeding were to compile a formulary of faith on the subject, running thus: "I believe that there are several persons to whom we may give the narae of God, and address our prayers," without any further explanation, would St. Augustine sign it ? As suredly I do not believe he would. Still less do I think he ought to sign it, though the truth be one which no true be liever would doubt, — but which no true believer ought to ac knowledge at such a time, nor in such a way. You can easily make the application. It may be said that our authority is not of the same weight as St. Augustine's, and that, in fact, it is of no weight at all. To this I answer in the first place, that I have only mentioned St. Augustine by way of reference to the reply given by you a few days ago, when I stated my difficulties, which was, that our fears would only be laughed at, and that St. Augustine would sign the paper that we were 80 much afraid of. But what I say of St. Augustine, I say 220 JAQUELINE PASCAL. also of you and of myself, and of the least important in the Chinch, for the feebleness of our influence does not lessen our guilt if we use that influence against the truth. Every one knows, and M. de St. Cyran says it in a thousand places, that the least truth of religion ought to be as faithfully defended as Christ himself. Where is the Christian who would not abhor himself, if it were possible for him to have been pres ent in Pilate's council, and if, when the question of condemn ing our Saviour to death arose, he had been content with an ambiguous way of stating- his opinion, so that he raight appear to agree with those who conderaned his Master, though his words in their literal meaning, and according to his own conscience, tended to an acquittal. Is not the sin of St. Peter trivial in coraparison of so ex- ti-eme a timidity, and yet how did he regard that sin through his whole after Hfe ? And we are also to note well, that though destined to become the head of the Church, he was not its head then. So that his was only the sin of a private believer, who did not say, as in the present case, " This man is a sinner, he is worthy of death, crucify him," who did not even pretend to say it. What he said was, simply, " I know not the man." Follow this comparison to its last results, I beseech you. My letter is only too long already. This, dear sister, is what I think about the formulary. I see clearly that it need not contain a full confession of faith, but I should Hke to have what it does contain, clearly and distinctly expressed. For ignorant as we are, all that we can reasonably be required to sign is a testimonial to the sincerity of our belief, and to our perfect submission to the Church, to the Pope as its .su preme head, and to the Archbishop of Paris as our superior, stating that although we do not consider it right to demand an account of their faith in this matter frora persons vvho never gave any occasion for that faith to be called in question, never theless in order to avoid the scandal and the suspicions to whioh our refusal might give birth, we do hereby testify, that PEESECUTION AND DEATH. 221 esteeming nothing so precious as the treasure of a pure and unadulterated faith, and willing to yield our lives for its pres ervation, we desire to live and die as humble daughters of the Catholic church, believing whatever she believes, and ready at all times to die in defence of her least important truths. If they are satisfied with this, well and good ; if not, for my part I shall never sign any other, if it please God. This is all that I think we ought to concede, let what will happen. Poverty, dispersion, imprisonment, death, all these seem as nothing to me compared with the anguish of my whole future life, if I should be wretched enough to make a league with death, in stead of profiting, by such an opportunity of paying to God the vows of fidelity which ray lips have pron6unced. Let. us pray to God for one another, my dear sister, that he would more and raore strengthen us and make us humble, since humility without fortitude, and courage without humil ity, are equally pernicious. Now, more than ever, we should recollect that the fearful have their place with the perjured and the abominable. Do not be shocked at my complaints that ' so little notice has been taken of our scruples. This gave me no trouble whatever. I am used to be treated as a child, and God grant that it may be so always. But the subject led me thither un designedly, and I do not regret it, because, if similar circum stances should ever occur again, it will be known that we are not to be satisfied with the assurance that our scruples are ridiculous, while no reasons are assigned. Farewell, dear sister. In the condition of our beloved invalid, if the thing were not so pressing, I should not have written a word on the subject. I believe, my dear sister, that it is needless for iiie to say I raake no objection whatever to the words of your forraulary, and that I do not oare what terms are used, provided no rea son be given to think that we censure either the grace of Je sus Christ or hiui who has so well explained its doctrines. 222 JAQUELINE PASCAL. Therefore, in adopting the words "believe all that the Church believes," I have omitted " and condemn whatever she condemns ;" though I do in reality condemn what the Church condemns, but I do not believe it a fitting time to say so, lest the Church should be confounded with the present decis ions. Even as M. de St. Cyran says, that the pagans having placed an idol on the very spot where once stood the cross of our Lord, the Christians would not go thither to worship, lest it should be supposed that they were worshipping the idol. Jaqueline, on reflection, thought it would be more honorable as well as truthful to send this letter to M. Arnauld himself, hoping, as the " History of the Per secution" informs us, that he would not feel hurt at the severe terms in which she had expressed herself, although her remarks touched him more nearly than they did any one else. She therefore enclosed her letter on the Formulary in another, which ran as fol lows: At Eve, June 23, 1661. My Father, The ordinary rules of politeness would require of me many corapliraents, and the expression of much delight at having an opportunity of writing you, since, as you are aware, it is so rare a pleasure, but in truth the state of the Church and of our dear mother, deprives rae of the heart to attempt