■— Madame dii cceiir Royal, as she was often called —
"would take them in."
They were not disappointed. It was against the
rules for an abbess to receive members of another
community without the permission of the archbishop.
" But Angelique said, ' Charity is above law,' and
opened her gates." And now was made evident the
good Providence which had led them to cook to-mor-
row's dinner overnight ! These sisters must be fed
first of all. Then came the more difficult task of
finding beds for them. " We began to gather up all
that we could," says one of the nuns. " There was
nothing to be met in the passages and on the stairs
but sisters dragging their beds, pillows, coverlets,
mattresses, and doing it all with the heartiest good-
will."
10
2 1 8 Sister and SamL
The next day, with all these unexpected guests and
with the two communities of Port Royal to witness
her profession, Jacqueline Pascal took the veil as
novice. We do not know whether "iier brother and
sister were present. No details of the ceremony have
been preserved. It was probably conducted according
to the "Constitutions" of the convent, with great
simplicity. Few guests from '' the world " were per-
mitted; all attempts to excite public interest by dis-
play were prohibited. The dress of the candidate
must be plain and inexpensive. Pearls and other
ornaments were forbidden ; and instead of the usual
entire severance of the hair, the abbess only cut off a
little from the ends. " If the candidate should after-
ward repent of her consecration she was not to be
deterred from re-entering society by the loss of that
feminine adornment."
^-<^TTm^
A BUNDLE OF LETTERS WHICH
TELL THEIR OWN STORY.
^.'-i - =?>
T^^^^
XV.
\ BUNDLE OF LETTERS WHICH TELL THEIR OWN
STORY.
O M. Perier", during an alarming illness of his
wife :
" Jufy 31, 1653.
"My dear Sister and Brother: — I write to
you both, if God permit this. letter to find you both
in a state to read it. which, after your note of the
24th, I scarcely dare to hope. You can imagine the
state of my own feelings ; I do not pretend to express
them. But I think it my 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 frequently reminded the sisterhood to
commend her case to God We can not have a
better opportunity of testing whether we possess real
faith *
â– " If it please Him to grant my sister the happiness of
seeing His face in preference to ourselves, why should
(221)
222 Sister and Saint.
we oppose her blessedness? I see no blessedness to
be found in this world except in giving up all things
for God ; but even this is not to be compared with
the full possession of Him and the certainty of never
losing that felicity
" God knows that I love my sister more than I did
when we were both in the world, and yet it seemed
to me then that nothing could increase my affection ;
but whereas at that time my chief wishes and anxieties
were for her life (which always has been, and still is,
dearer to me than my own), they now relate to her
eternal life. Therefore, violent as my grief is, and
though I am continually in dread of hearing the fatal
news, trembling so that I can scarcely stand if any one
looks as if he iv ere going to speak to me, yet, when I
take into account the misery and dangers of this pres-
ent life, especially for a person immersed in worldly
occupations, I can not but accuse myself 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 Tell her to remember the
beautiful saying of M. de St. Cyran, that ' the sick
should look upon their bed as an altar whereon they
continually offer up the sacrifice of their life for God
to t^ke at His pleasure ' ; and this other : ' The pains
and various inconveniences of illness are sounds that
serve to warn the virgins of the Bridegroom's ap-
A Bundle of Letters. 223
proach.' Let her hope to go in with Him to that
blessed marriage.
" SCEUR DE SaINTE EUPHEMIE,
" {Religiciise Indigne)!'
Under the same date JacqueHne urges her brother-
in-law, in case of her sister's recovery, to testify his
gratitude by leaving his wife and family and becopiing
a recluse. Happily, he did not follow this advice,
but we are told that, after this time, he wore a girdle
lined with iron points, though his humility kept this
fact a secret till after his death. He used also to
have a plank in his bed, and made his bed himself in
order to prevent discovery.
To Madame Perier, bearing joyful tidings :
"Dec. 8, 1654.
" It is not right that you should longer be ignorant
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 now have time to tell you is that God has gra-
ciously given him a great wish to be entirely 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 in-
supportable disgust for its votaries ; and yet, though
his excitable temperament would naturally lead him
2 24 Sister and Saint.
to extremes, he behaves with a moderation that
encourages me to hope for good. He has put him-
self entirely under P^re Singlin's direction.
'' Thoug-h his health is worse than it has been for a
long time, it does not in the least affect his resolu-
tion, which shows that the reasons he formerly urged
were only a pretense.
" I perceive in him a humility and submission,
even toward myself, which astonishes me. I have
now no more to add, except that it is evident another
spirit than his own is at work within him. Farewell ;
let all this be kept secret, even from him.
" I am yours entirely,
" Sister Euphiemie."
To Madame Perier, giving further particulars of
the good work :
"Port Royal, January 2^, 1655.
" My very dear Sister : — I wonder if your im-
patience to receive intelligence has been greater 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 said. But
now things are at a po'nt where you ought to know
of them, let the resull be, by God's good pleasure,
what it may.
" It would be doing you injustice not to relate the
whole story from the beginning.
A Bn7idle of Letters. 225
" He came to see me toward tRe close of last Sep-
tember, and during the visit, opened his heart to me
in such a way that I felt a deep pity for him. He
acknowledged that in the midst of his occupations,
which were numerous and of a nature to excite in
him a love for the world, he still often felt a desire to
leave it altogether. That, by reason of his aversion
for the follies and amusements of society, and by
reason of the constant reproaches of conscience, he
found himself more detached from the world than ho
had ever been before ; but that, on the other hand,
God'seemed to have foesaken him, and he experience i
no longings after Him
" This confession gave me great surprise and de
light, and from that time I began to hope for him as
I had not done before. If I were to recount all his
other visits in detail, it would fill a volume, for they
were afterward so frequent and so long that I seemed
to myself to have no other work to do than to follow
him and watch his progress. I did not attempt to
hurry him in the least, but I saw him growing in
such a way that I scarcely knew him for the same
person. You will see it also, if God carries on the
work, and particularly in his humility, submission,
self-distrust, even to the point of scorn of self and
desire to become as nothing in the esteem and mem-
ory of man. This is what he is- now; only God
knows what he will become.
2 26 Sister and Saint.
" There were many visits and much conflict on the
subject of choosing a spiritual guide. He saw the
necessity of having one ; but, although the person
best suited to him was already found and he could
not bear to think of any one else, yet his self-distrust
made him afraid of being guided by partiality. /
saw clearly enough that this hesitation only arose
from the independence yet remaining in his soul, and
catching at any excuse for avoiding the complete sub-
jection to which he was tending. But I would not
influence him. I merely said that I thought it was
our duty to select the best physicians we could find,
both for the soul and for the body At length
his mifid was made up. But our task was not over
yet,- for M. Singlin hesitated to undertake the charge,
chiefly on account of a long-continued infirmity which
prevents his speaking 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 serviceable to him. M. Singlin was
then at Port Royal des Cliavips for the benefit of his
health ; and therefore Blaise (although he was ter-
ribly afraid of having it known that he held com-
munication with the convent)' resolved to go thither
under pretext that business called him into the coun-
try. By changing his name, leaving his r^.rvants in
A Bundle of Letters, 227
some neighboring village, and proceeding on foot to
M. Singlin, he hoped that no one would recognize
him or discover his object, and that, in this way, he
might effect a temporary retreat.
" I advised him not to take such a step without
consulting M. Singlin ; and M. Singlin, on his part,
forbade it altogether. M. Singlin wrote him a beau-
tiful letter, and in it he constituted 7ne as my brother's
directress until God made his own duty plain
When M. Singlin at length returned, I entreated him
to release me from my dignity, and said so much that
I obtained my desire. They then both thought it
would be best for Blaise to make a trip into the coun-
try for the sake of being more alone than he could
be in town. His particular friend (the Due de
Roannez) had returned, and took up nearly all his
time.
He, accordingly, made the Duke his confidant
(receiving his consent, which was not given without
tears), and set out the day after Epiphany
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 — a prince of St. Bernard's
stamp, dwelling in a lonely spot, where the pro-
fession of poverty is carried out as far as discretion
will allow.
" He is present at every service from Prime to
2 28 S/s/cr and Samt.
Complines, and docs not find the least inconvenience
in rising at five o'clock.
" It seems to Ue God's will, also, that he shall fast
as well as watch, though, in doing so, he must defy
all medical rules which forbid him to do either. But
he finds that his supper begins to give him pain in
the chest, and I think he will omit it.
" He will not miss his directress, for M. Singlin has
provided him with a confessor, M. de Saci, with
whom he was not before acquainted, a man who is
beyond praise, and who has completely charmed him
already."
(M. de Saci was one of Madame le Maitre's sons,
an elegant writer, translator of the Bible, and one of
the brightest lights of Port Royal).
*' He told only two persons where he was going
when he set out. However, it was suspected. Some
say he has turned monk ; others hermit ; others,
again, that he is at Port Royal ; and he knows all
this, but does not care for it
" I have not been able to finish this letter till to-
day, Feb. 8.
" Business just now detains Blaise at home, but, as
soon as he can, he will go back to his solitude
He is anxious to do something for our little cousin,
the daughter of Pascal the overseer ; and as this con-
vent is very charitable, we hoped to get her received
here as a boarder. But I doubt whether either
A Btcndle of Letters. 229
mother or child would be willing. Write me about
it, please, as soon as you can and say how wc had
better manage it. I am very antxious she should
come, for I look upon her as a sister and can not think
of her situation, either bodily or spiritually, without
a shudder. Besides, she is my father's niece, and I
can understand how he would have felt for her from
my own feelings toward your children.
" Sister Euphemie."
To M. Pascal during his retreat at Les Granges
(Port Royal des Champs^ :
" January 19, 1655.
" My very dear 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 gay-
eties of the world. I hardly know, however, how M.
de Saci gets along with a penitent so full of happi-
ness. Instead of expiating worldly pleasures by un-
ceasing tears, you are only relinquishing them for
more reasonable joys and a more allowable play of
fancy.
" For my part, I think your penance very moderate
indeed, and there are few people who would not envy
you it ! "
A few more playful, but rather obscure allusions
follow : " And now," says the writer, " I_ hereby put
an end to the willful nonsense of this letter. Your
230 Sister and Saint.
eager desire to renounce every semblance of worldly
distinction is very praiseworthy 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. None but princes
should have them on their tables. We must be truly
poor in spirit if we would deserve such an honor,
which, according to the Marquis de Renti,' should be
denied to common people. My only comfort is that,
this kind of kingship not being hereditary, it may be
acquired
" I was before you in the discovery that health de-
pends more on Jesus Christ than on the maxims of
Hippocrates. Spiritual rcgivten often cures bodiQ' ail-
ments. Unless, indeed, God sees fit to strengthen us
by means of sickness. Certainly it is a great privi-
lege to have sufificient strength of body to do what
is enjoined for the cure of our souls ; but it is none
the less a privilege to take chastisement from Him.
In either case we are well, if we are in Him. We
are not told, ' if any man will come after Me let him
perform works requiring great strength,' but, ' let him
deny himself.' And sometimes a sick jj^rson may do
this better than one in health."
To the same ; — a fragment :
"December i, 1655.
" I have been congratulated on the great fervor of
devotion which has lifted you so far above all ordi-
A Bundle of Letters. 231
nary customs, that you consider a broom a superflu-
ous piece of furniture I think that, for some
months at least, you should try being as clean as you
now are dirty, in order that you may show that you
can succeed in humble and vigilant care of the body
(which is your servant), as well as you have succeed-
ed in humble lugligence of it. After that, if you
again find it glorious and edifying to others to be
dirty, you can do so ; especially if it be a means of
holiness, which I very much doubt. St. Bernard did
not think it was."
To Madame Perier in answer to inquiries as to
Jacqueline's promotion in the convent :
" June 23, 1655.
" I had thought of answering this part of your let-
ter in the same style in which you wrote, buf I can
not do it. All my gayety leaves me when I approach
the topic. And I therefore entreat you to believe
every word of what I shall now tell you, for I am
perfectly serious.
" I dare say my employment here has been repre-
sented to you as much greater than it in fact is.
After all, it is a mere nothing, and I do not suppose
that any one but myself would consider it of conse-
quence.
" But it is quite a responsibility for me, who would
much rather keep in the background, and d.\Vi fit for
232 Sister and Saint.
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 learned to be very-
handy.
'' The employment assigned me, 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 at first. I also
look after their 'little external wants, and see that
they are provided with shoes, stockings, pins, thread,
etc And that you may have no more cause to
complain of my reserve, I will tell you that it is also
my duty to advise them in regard to their behavior.
Now, you know just what I have, to do My
sister Madeleine is always on the spot to correct me
if I do wrong But for all that, I can not help
trembling when I think that I hold the destiny,, so to
speak, of five or six girls in my hands, and that they
are in a measure dependent on one so imperfect
" I must acknowledge 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
so open, especially when you frequently asked me
what it was that kept me so busy. I had even made
a memorandum to ask our Mother Agnes whether
this confidence were not due you, but God permitted
me always to forget it, and, since you left, it has
A Bundle of Letters. 233
never occurred to me. Neither have I mentioned 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 ; . . . . but it is very difficult
to speak of God in a godly manner, and there is great
danger of feeding others from our own penury instead
of from His abundance. Pray for me that my two
mites may be as acceptable to Him as the large alms
of the wealthier. Farewell, dear sister. Yours ever
in the Lord,
"Sister Euphemie,
'â– ^ An unworthy nun^
To the same, in answer to inquiries as to the best
method of educating her children :
"Port Roy ki., August 15, 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 intend to
answer it at all. It seemed to me that I was very far
from having the requisite ability for such a task, and,
besides 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 begun to dis-
cern the true light, taking it upon herself to enlighten
Sister and Saint.
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 Pere Singlin, I am totally
unable elsewhere to procure the aid you are seeking,
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 (one of the confessors) might,
perhaps, be able to give some advice. I broke off,
therefore, in order to consult him, and now write
what he says : * * * *
" To M. Pascal, making inquiries in regard to his
new method of teaching children to read :
"' October 26, 1655.
" * Obedience and chanty lead me to break silence
before you do, my very dear brother, and when I
least expected it ; I tell you this, lest you should be
scandalized at my writing.' (She alludes, probably,
to some mutual vow of silence for a certain time).
" 'Our mothers have commanded me to ask all the
particulars of your method of learning to read with-
out learning the names of the letters. I can see very
well how a child can be taught to pronounce some
words in that way, but how do you manage with
silent consonants following a vowel? — for instance,
A Btmdle of Letters. 235
such a word as ^« ? .... I see difficulties in the sys-
tem, but then, I am sure, you have also foreseen them
and provided for them.
" ' So much for obedience ; now for the charity.'
(She then begs a favor of him in behalf of a poor
young girl of their acquaintance.) ' I will not apolo-
gize for giving you the trouble. Charity is its own
recompense.
"'Did you think of me on the loth? That is the
day of my baptism, you know. Remember me also
to-day. The 26th of every month is dear to me since
God gave me grace on that day to cast off forever the
habiliments of the world. May you and all who be-
long to you be ever the Lord's. I belong to you not
less by grace than by nature. Properly, indeed, I
consider myself your daughter ; I shall never forget it.'
"Sister Euphemie,
"y^;^ imworthy muiy
The system of teaching here spoken of was intro-
duced by Pascal into the Port Royal schools, and
through their text-books* adopted afterward through-
out France. It is now used in many English schools,
and has been introduced somewhat in the United
States. Cousin ' says : " A method of orthography
certainly adds little to the glory of the great mathe-
matician, the great scientist, and the great rhetorician,
yet it serves to bring into relief that exactness and
236
Sister and Saint.
clearness — the special attribute of Pascal's genius —
which he carried into the smallest as well as into the
greatest things."
Pascal's system of logic, set forth in his little
treatise, " De I'art de Persuader," was about this time
also adopted at Port Royal.
I
TEACHING THE CONVENT SCHOOL.
XVI.
TEACHING THE CONVENT SCHOOL.
THE letters we have just read tell us better
than any other words could do, the story of
Jacqueline Pascal's life between 1652 and
1655. They show us the increasing honor in which
she is held by that household of noble women among
whom she has found her home. They show the great
confidence reposed in her by her superiors, evidenced
by her appointment as Sub-Mistress of the Novices
before she had herself passed her novitiate. And
still stronger proof of confidence and high esteem is
the fact that careful, conscientious Abbe Singlin
placed in her hands the infinitely momentous and
delicate task of guiding her brother's newly-stirred
conscience.
They very touchingly show that brother's trust in
her as he makes visit after visit and unburdens his
troubled heart before her; anJ they show her elder
sister's exaggerated reverence when she asks of the
(239)
240 Sister and Saint.
inexperienced novice how she shall best bring up her
family.
But, above all, these letters give us a hint of the
inner life — a glimpse at that "secret greenness" which
"only One" can fully see.
We perceive a rapid growth of character. We see
a great increase of sweetness — of love and of joy — in
her heart. The beauty of holiness is beginning to be
apparent. Instead of the chilling virtues of those
first years of devotion to God there is a pleasant
warmth and light. She is not afraid now to tell her
brother and sister how much she loves them. " It
seems to me we are but one heart and one soul in
Jesus Christ," she writes to Gilberte. " Did you
think of me on the loth?" she asks Blaise, showing
how completely the old freedom and sympathy is
established between them and how sweet it is to her.
In every way, indeed, there 4S an increasing natu-
ralness and healthfulness in her religion, as there
must be in all spiritual life, the nearer it approaches
to Him who is the Life.
Not that faults are wanting. As long as we know
Jacqueline Pascal we shall see those, yet more and
more, from this time, they seem to be the faults of
her century, her education, her Church, rather than
faults of character.
Undoubtedly, Jacqueline's great joy in her broth-
er's conversion hastened her spiritual grov.'th. Joy is
Teaching the Cotivent School, 241
good for souls. Whatev^er may be said and may be
true of the blessed effects of sorrow, those who have
had great sorrows and great joys know that joy is the
natural atmosphere of the soul. He who has swung
open the doors of heaven to His children knows this
well.
And so, when the desire of this sweet woman's
heart is granted, when her cup runs over — we see her
coming back to the naturalness and freedom of her
early days. Her heart comes again as the heart of a
little child. She does from joyful enthusiasm, not
from forcing duty, what her hand finds to do.
It was a gre^at year for the Port Royalists — this
year of Pascal's definite identification with them and
farewell to the world. In their histories it forms a