conveniences and hardships attendant on convent
life which might have severely shocked the delicate,
high-bred girl had she not wisely made some prepa-
ration for them. The abbesses Angolique and Agnes
allowed no luxuries to themselves or to their nuns,
except the luxury of charity. The utmost poverty
and bareness prevailed throughout the whole build-
ing, and the nuns' cell's ā the only thing in the world
which they could call their own ā were no exception
to the rule. The story is told of one of the Arnaulds,
that, on going to her cell for the first time, at night,
she covered the one bare little table with a white
cloth and made such few simple preparations for her
toilet as circumstances admitted. The abbess ā her own
sister Angelique ā noticed it in her nightly round, and
198 Sister and Saint.
" laaghed in her heart." However, she said nothing that
night, but the next day the simple little appointments
ā cloth and all ā were removed. When the young sistei
came to her cell the second night and found it bare
again, she thought there had been some mistake and
again spread a clean white handkerchief over the table.
But once more it was removed, and so it went on till
she had thoroughly learned the lesson and cheerfully
submitted to it. It was a part of the great lesson of
"the mystery of the poverty of Christ."
Jacqueline Pascal had been humbly trying to learn
that lesson in her own cheerless chamber at home,
and probably she found little difficulty in suiting her-
self to a new lack of comforts. Her dress, too ā the
ugly and harassing combination described by Gil-
berte ā must have been willingly exchanged for the
novice's costume ā a " loose, gray robe, cut on the
cross, fastened round the throat and hanging to the
feet." The beauty of this dress, according to Angel-
ique, was that "all kinds of work could be done in
it," and all kinds of work were done by candidates,
novices, and sisters of all degrees, from cleaning the
hen-house and scouring the saucepans tcr the most
exquisite darning and the reverent care of the altar
furniture.
" We used to go into the kitchen by turns for a
week together," says Anne Arnauld. " We liked hard
work of all kinds, and I was particularly fond of
The Lord Opens the Way. 199
sweeping the floors, remembering that St. Theresa
took great pleasure in it. In the summer mornings
we used to go into the garden and dig in silence with
great zeal. We rose at two to say matins and did not
go to bed again after that time. In winter the church
was very cold, but no one complained of it, and our
clothing was not much warmer in winter than it was
in summer."
The " Constitutions of Port Royal," drawn up by
the Mere Agnes, give us a similar view of humility
and* activity. " The novices," says this authority,
" are not to be fed with milk and honey, by being
humored and treated gently, but with the strong
meat of self-denial and humiliations Industry
is a positive duty, each sister being expected to
perform a certain amount of work daily, the more
humiliating the better, and to love her task, because
the Saviour stooped to practice a lowly trade, and so
did His apostles. They make their own habits and
shoes, as well as linen, wafers, and wax candles. Book-
binding is also one of our occupations, and we make
lanterns, candlesticks, and other useful articles of tin."
.... (Embroideries and artificial flowers were never
introduced at Port Royal). "When at work, the
sisters are to be silent and meditative Strict
silence is enjoined for some hours of each day, except
in case of absolute necessity, and even then the use
of sifjns is recommended Those possessing
200 Sister and Samt.
good voices are carefully trained to sing in the choir,
under the direction of a leader, who must strain every
nerve to prevent the possibility of a mistake or fail-
ure in the worship of the sanctuary ; yet the leader is
not to assume undue authority, ox permit her voice to
be heard above the others ! "
One of the sweetest duties of the convent to Jac-
queline was, doubtless, what was called " the perpetual
adoration of the Holy Sacrament." This expression
is a little startling to Protestant ears, but it only signi-
fied " that every nun was to spend a portion of each
day in silent prayer before the altar, and to wait there
till relieved by one of her companions." They had
no set form of prayer for the occasion, but were to
invoke the special aid of the Holy Spirit to bring
their wishes into accordance with God's will, ^^ and
not dwelling on their own persoiial tvants or sins, were
to forget self and plead earnestly for the good of
the Church universal and the extension of Christ s
kingdom. They were taught to hope' that by thus
trying to imitate the blessed ones who "ā rest not day
nor night " in their worship, and " expelling as far as
possible all earthly interests from the heart, Christ
would fill it with the precious balm of His grace,
and perfume their poor prayers with the incense of
His own merits. The remembrance of this hallowed
hour was also to accompany them through the rest
of the day. Their motto was to be, ' I sleep, but my
The Lord Opens the Way. 201
heart worketh,' meaning that no occupation ought to
distract their minds from continued prayer and com-
munion with Jesus."
Of course, in addition to this daily worship in the
church, and fixed hours for each one in her own cell,
the sisterhood observed the ordinary Church routine
of lasts and festivals. The Bible was, moreover, daily
read aloud ā not a common custom in a convent at
that time, if it is at present. The nuns were urged
to learn portions of it by heart. " Let them try to
fill the treasury of their minds with God's word," say
the Constitutions. " It is more desirable than gold
or precious stones."
One hour of every day was allowed the sisters " in
which to make confession of losses, accidents, or
slight failures in duty." There was another " hour of
conference," in summer, spent in the garden, where
each one was permitted to speak freely, '' provided
she did so with discretion and grave politeness, as
well as care not to interrupt others, or put herself un-
duly forward."
Such was the daily course of Jacqueline Pascal's
life during these first months at Port Royal. We are
obliged to learn of it from the convent rules and not
from herself, for at first she wrote very little, even to
her faithful Gilberte. Indeed, the " Constitutions "
require that letters should be rarely written. They
were never sent without inspection, nor were they
ft*
202 Sister and Saint.
ever to be very affectionate. " The best way of ex-
pressing love is in prayer for its object."
Without doubt, Jacqueline was happy. But one
great burden lay on her heart ā one great longing
took possession of her soul. It was the longing for
her brother's full sympathy. As the time drew near
for her to take the veil the burden weighed heavier,
the longing grew more intense. Her few letters at
this time are grave and repressed. It is not till later,
when actual trial and persecution are staring her in
the face, but when her heart is lightened of this great
weight, that we catch once more an occasional gleam
of her youthful playfulness.
FRESH TRIALS.
XIV.
FRESH TRIALS.
THE usual period of probation at Port Royal
was a year, but Jacqueline had in effect
been on probation before she entered the
convent, and, in her case, the time was shortened to
four months.
It was arranged that she should take the veil as a
novice in May. And looking forward to that joyful
occasion, there is but one thing lacking to render her
happiness complete.
Early in March she wrote a long letter to her
brother ā a letter as remarkable as the one she wrote
her father when begging for a " retreat " at Port
Royal.
" This letter reveals," says Cousin, " both the
woman and the saint, the mingled passion and ob-
stinacy which distinguish the whole family, and withal
a charming sweetness ā a blending of humble entreat-
ies with the accent of command." She signs herself
C205)
2o6 Sister and Saint.
already " sceur de Sainte-Euphemie," the " new
name" which she is to receive on the day of the
coming ceremony. (Strange that while cutting them-
selves away from all natural relationships, and break-
ing the most sacred bonds, these monks and nuns
must yet borrow the names of human ties to express
their ideal of their place in God's world ! Father ā
mother ā brother ā sister ā they can find no more sa-
cred titles by which to show what they believe to be
the highest and holiest estate for man or woman !)
Through the greater part of this letter Jacqueline
addresses her brother with the grave and formal
" you," but now and then she forgets herself and re-
lapses into the old familiar " thou." She begs him
by all their former intimacy to give her " his kindly
greeting" in this solemn act, and yet she reminds
him that she is now her own mistress, and can do as
she pleases without his consent ! In short, the whole
eight pages are just as illogical, just as affectionate,
just as proud, as noble, and as thoroughly feminine
as was that long letter to her father three years be-
fore.
See how skillfully she touches upon every motive
which" can possibly have weight in her brother's
mind :
" Do you remember the time," she says, " when I
loved the world, and when my knowledge and love of
God increased my guilt, because my heart was so un-
Fresh Trials, 207
equally divided between two masters? Do you re-
member that it 'Wd.syou who first tried to convince me
that I could not unite two things so opposed as the
spirit of religion and the spirit of the world?"
" You ought, in some measure, to judge of my affec-
tion by your own, and to consider that, even if I am
strong enough to persevere, despite your resistance, I
may not be able to bear up against the grief it will
cause me." As if she would say, " I am human still,
though you may not believe it ; I have a heart and you
can make it ache."
" You have the power of troubling my peace," she
goes on, " but you can not restore it if, through your
fault, I should once lose it. Do not take that away
which you can not give."
" Do not hinder those who do well ; and do well
yourself ; at least, if you have not the strength to fol-
low me, do not hold me back."
" How strange that you should have such scruples !
You would not try to prevent my marrying a prince,
nor think, if I did so, it were not my duty to follow
him, even to a place very far removed from you."
" I await this proof of your affection," she con-
cludes (his presence at the ceremony). ..." Of course
my invitation is a mere form, for / do not imagine you
wonld dream of siayiiig dzvay .^ .... I have written
to my sister. I ask you to console her, if necessary,
and to encourage her. I tell her that if she wishes to
2o8 Sister and Saint.
come, it will delight me to see her, but that if she
comes in the hope of making me change my mind,
her pains will be. thrown away. I say the same to
you. Now, do with a good grace what you must do
any way ; I mean, do it in a spirit of kindness, and
do not make me unhappy. Farewell, my very dear
brother."
This letter brought Blaise at once to his sister's
side. He came the day after receiving it, and saw
her for the first time, perhaps, since she left him, in
the convent parlor through the grated window.
" He was nearly wild with a terrible headache,"
Jacqueline writes to Madame Perier ā " the result of
my letter. Yet he was much softened ; for instead of
the two years' delay he had asked before, he only
wanted me to wait till All Saints' Day" ā the last of
October. " But seeing me determined not to put it
off long, and yet complaisant enough to allow him a
little more time to get accustomed to the thought, he
gave up entirely, and even expressed pity for me that
I had been obliged to delay so long that which I had
set my heart upon. Nevertheless, he did not return
at the appointed hour to settle the exact time, but
M. d'Andilly, by my request, was good enough to
send for him Saturday, and to argue with him so skill-
fully and yet cordially that he agreed to everything
we- wished."
Thus far Jacqueline had gained her point, but pain-
Fresh Trials. 209
ful difficulties were yet to come ā difficulties of a kind
quite unthought of by her. She had no idea of enter-
ing Port Royal empty-handed, and took it as a matter
of course that her portion of her father's property was
to go to endow the convent. But to her great sur-
prise, her brother and her sister ā yes, even her faith-
ful Gilberte ā were not inclined to agree with her in
this view. If she had chosen the spiritual riches,
they seemed to think it but right and natural that
they should have the earthly. They viewed the
case, as poor Jacqueline says, *' in an entirely secular
manner." The mixture of grief, vexation, and morti-
fication in her heart at this unexpected contretemps is
curious to witness. For the proud and high-spirited
daughter of M. Pascal to come to Port Royal portion-
less, is, indeed, a bitter thing. But she humbles her-
self even to this, and "begs earnestly" for admission
as a "lay-sister." " If my reception must be a gratu-
itous one, I thought tha<(j!lout of gratitude to the sis-
terhood, for the double favor of welcoming me with-
out 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 punishment instead of a re-
ward. He therefore restrained Father Singlin from
giving his consent."
In a '' Relation," which takes up fifty pages of
2IO Sister and Saint.
Cousin's volume, Jacqueline gives the detaih; of this
whole affair. The paper was written not in her own
interest, but as part of the " Memoirs of Port Royal,"
and notwithstanding its length, it is worthy the read-
ing of any one who is interested in the study of char-
acter. It shows that the infirmities of human nature,
in convents and out of them, were much the same in
the seventeenth century as now. Yet at the same
time it shows how far love and right feeling and re-
ligion can go toward conquering those infirmities.
At first Jacqueline has nothing but indignation and
a fine scorn to bestow on her brother and sister. Her
years of mortification had not placed her beyond the
possibility of genuine anger and vexation. " My res-
olution," she says, " which they thought so unkind,
gave my friends a fine chance of moralizing over the
instability of human affections ! "
. Both Blaise and Gilberte wrote, giving as reasons
for their refusal, the entagtfeinent of her share of the
property with their own, and various technical difificul-
ties. If she tvoiildzvait four years, till all claims on the
estate had been settled, they would think of it. " Dis-
ingenuous arguments ! " she exclaims, " which, had
they been less irritated, they would never have named !
Not that these reasons were actually untrue," she
goes on to say, " but they were not S2ich as zve had
been acejcstomed to tise zvith one anotlier ! Just thinlc,
my dear mother, how these letters made me feel ! ā
Fresh Trials. 2 1 1
written in a style so changed ! . . . . my grief became
so violent that it seems wonderful I lived through it."
'' This strong expression," says Sainte-Beuve, " is
no exaggeration. She does nearly die of it. Her
intense, enthusiastic nature, frustrated on the point
of the triumphant fulfillment of her vow, and that,
too, by a thrust from those whom she loves, is almost
overpowered. And we recognize here the same ten-
der, conscientious, womanly heart that a few years
later falls a victim to its own scruples and reproaches."
The dear Mother Agnes sees Jacqueline's heavy
grief and sends for her ā her " fille cherie " ā for a long
private talk. With the greatest tact and wisdom she
deals with the wounded heart. " Only eternal things
are worth such emotion as this," she says. " Tempo-
ral matters ought never to call forth these tears ā only
the real evils, sins, deserve those." And then, trying
the effect of a little gayety, she declares that she is
*' really astonished ! that it is almost incredible that
she, a novice ā a novice of Port Royal! ā ready to
make her profession ā is capable of being afflicted by
anything, least of all by such a bagatelle as a little
money! "
But though the novice's heart is lightened for a
time, Agnes sees that she has not effected a cure. So,
in the kindness of her heart, she sets out for Dcs
Champs to tell Angclique all about it, and Father
Singlin, too, who happens to be there for a few days
212 Sister and Saint.
The Mdre Angelique's advice is characteristic.
"Tell her to relinquish it all t'o her relatives, and not
to mix herself up in the matter any further. And let
her give her whole mind to her approaching profes-
sion."
Dowry or no dowry, lay-sister or lady-boarder ā the
profession was the main thing in Angelique's mind.
That was a matter of course. When was Port Royal
ā since sJie had anything to do with it, certainly ā
known to delay a profession on the score of poverty ?
But good Father Singlin has the guidance not only
of Jacqueline's conscience, but of the Reverend Moth-
er's as well, and by this time he has gained a good
deal of facility in reading souls. " He did not en-
tirely agree with our Mother," says the Relation, " for
he feared there might be too much generosity and
too little humility in the advice ! "
And he " improved " the occasion (perhaps on the
way back to Paris, whither they both returned the
next day), by a few short remarks. " When we have
overcome the avarice of wealth," he said, "we ought
to beware of falling into the opposite extreme and
.becoming greedy of praise, and ostentatious of our
generosity, while we despise those who still cling to
their property."
After some further conference, however, he advised
Jacqueline to adopt the M^re Angelique's plan, but
he chose to dictate her letter to her brother himself,
Fresh Trials, 213
"lest my owit words should be too warm," says Jac-
queline, frankly. "This letter," she continues, "could
not be short, and it kept me busy till evening so that
I did not see our Mother. But, on the next day,
as was her custom after returning from the coun-
try, she sent for all the novices, and when my turn
came to salute her, I could not help saying that I was
the only sorrowful one among the sisters, who were
all delighted at her return. ' What ? ' said she, ' is it
possible, my daughter, that you are still sad ? Were
you not prepared for trials ?'.... And then she
talked to me a long time on the emptiness of all human
affection J keeping her arm around me tvitJi much teti'
derness I ' ā dear, inconsistent Angelique !
" The next day, also, ' having noticed that my looks
were unusually 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 full hour, caressing me all the time with
a mother's tenderness. I can truly say that she
omitted nothing in her power that could charm away
my distress."
'[ I told her," says Jacqueline, naively, " that it was
the injustice done to the establishment that troubled
me, and that personally I was neither hurt nor angry,
but simply indifferent. 'You are mistaken, my
214 Sister and Saint.
daughter,' said she. ' Nothing is more painful or hard
to bear than wounded affection. I know you 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 mainspring of
this mighty sorrow ! '
" She was then so good as to give me the details of
several similar cases, without mentioning names. I
suppose this was done as much for the sake of afford-
ing me that species of comfort derivable from com-
panionship in misery, as to convince me that we never
take the interests of justice so much to heart as when
they concern ourselves."
" Now forget all that is past," says the good Moth-
er, at the end of this long talk, " and speak and write
to your friends as if nothing had occurred, merely
telling them that you confirm your resignation (of
the property) in their favor. And you must do this in
all sincerity^ avoiding a spirit of pride, as if you had
been more generous than they, and avoiding, also, a
wish to coax them into obliging you. If our actions
do not arise from genuine love they are worthless."
Pascal, it seems, was at this time absent from the
city for a few days, but when he came home and
found Jacqueline's letters awaiting him, he at once
presented himself again in the convent parlor. Port
Royal's nobility had challenged his, and he was not
found wanting ! He undertook " a Pinstant" to
Fresh Trials. 215
manage the whole affair, and without waiting to free
his sister's portion from its entanglement with the
rest of the estate, to make a gift in his own name to
the convent, " taking upon himself all risks and
charges." Thus. suddenly and simply was the diffi-
culty removed.
As to Pascal's first position in the matter, Reuch-
lin explains it thus: "In the case of twins it is fre-
quently observable that the death of one is soon fol-
lowed by that of the other. Blaise Pascal and Jac-
queline Pascal were twins in soul, and when the
former strove to prevent his sister's complete identifi-
cation with Port Royal, he was in reality struggling
for the right of his own independence ā fighting for
his own life. Another pretext for delay presented
itself in this difficulty about the property, and he
eagerly seized it." But as soon as he saw that it was
useless, that Jacqueline's determination remained un-
shaken in spite of the worst he could do, he gave up
without another word. Gilberte, for her part, seems
to have acted only out of sympathy for her brother,
and from the natural "secular" view of the matter.
But she yields in the end as gratefully as does her
brother.
And so, at last, the eve of the solemn day had
actually com.e ā the day so long delayed, so ardently
desired ! Is Jacqueline as happy as she expected to
be? A few days before, she wrote 'to her sister-.
2i6 Sister and Saint.
" There is nothing but sorrow everywhere " (referring
to the war), "yet I am full of joy, for I am to take the
veil on the glorious feast of Trinity. After so much
opposition, it seems like a dream to find myself so
near it. I shall fear that it is only an illusion till the
ceremony is really over. But I will not waste time
in expatiating on my happiness, for you can not
doubt it." Did ever expectant bride write a happier
letter on the eve of her wedding-day?
The nuns went rather early to their cells that May
evening, for to-morrow was to be a great day for them.
Perhaps Jacqueline Pascal lingered, like St. Agnes, a
little while at her window looking at the solemn stars.
The airs from the garden were soft and sweet, and
the pink horsechestnut blossoms were dropping now
and then through the stillness, as they drop now on
May evenings in the gardens of Paris. That " noble
house " in the Faubourg St. Jacques, was very full
that night, for many of the sisters had come in from
Port Royal dcs CJLajnps to see the ceremony. The
next day's dinner had been prepared overnight, so
that lay-sisters and all might have an opportunity to
be present at the services.
But scarcely had quiet settled down on the house
when voices and quick steps were heard about the
gates, and the frightened women were soon out of
their beds. It was war-time, and they were living in
constant expectation of danger. They found, how-
Fresh Trials. 217
ever, that it was not a troop of soldiers who had
taken possession of the house. It was only a band of
nuns who had been driven out of their convent at
Etampes and h^d walked all the way to Paris.
" These poor sisters reached the Faubourg St. Jac-
ques about nine o'clock," says the story. " Some of
them had friends in the city, but knew not where to
find them ; others were friendless. It was quite dark,
they had no guide, no guard, and did not know what
to do. As they passed the gates of Port Royal one
of them recognized the convent. She bade her com-
panions be of good cheer. Madame de Port Royal"