Grand Dieu! je te conjure avec affection

De prendre notre Reine en ta protection,

Puisque la conserver, c'est conserver la France.

A SONNET TO THE QUEEN, ON THE SUBJECT OF HER CONFINEMENT; PRESENTED TO HER MAJESTY.

"Now, let us rejoice, since at last our Princess fulfils our hopes, and since we know, by her state, that our griefs and our calamities are over. May our hearts be full of joy; our enemies shall be destroyed; the Dauphin is to make them mourn for his birth, and to frustrate their designs.

"French, give thanks to the Deity! this beloved Dauphin, so long the object of your hopes, will soon realize them. O God! I earnestly entreat thee to take our Queen under thy protection, since the happiness of France is connected with her preservation.'

Jacqueline became as popular with the Queen as she had been with Richelieu, and the whole court was taken by surprise when, at her first visit, she wrote, extempore, an epigram for Mademoiselle, and another for Madame d'Hautefort.

However, there is one circumstance in the biography of this accomplished young woman which is still more remarkable than her high literary attainments: we mean her early piety, and the history of her life when she subsequently became a member of the illustrious community at Port-Royaldes-Champs. In giving, in the following pages, a short account of Jacqueline Pascal's life and death, we shall almost in all cases follow the interesting account published by M. V. Cousin: and let us here express once more our deep regret at seeing the leader of French moral philosophy persisting in bringing forward against the Pascals a charge of scepticism and of mistaken folly. There was, doubtless, a large proportion of error mixed up with the doctrines of Jansenism;* but still, Port-Royal is nearer the Bible than the Vatican, and we are inclined to suspect that the folly of the cross is really the one obnoxious to M. Cousin.

During the year 1646, an accident which happened to M. Pascal, the father, whilst he was at Rouen, brought into his house two Physicians, MM. Deslandes and De la Bouteillerie, who stopped there for the space of three months. These gentlemen appear to have been Jansenists; and their piety, the soundness of their conversation, and the regularity of their life, were blessed by God to the edification of the whole family. M. Pascal, Blaise, and Jacqueline, asked permission to read the books which composed their library, and thus they became acquainted with the writings of Jansenius, Arnauld, and St. Cyran.

* A writer in the Eclectic Review, for April, 1847, has very clearly pointed out Pascal's weaknesses :" It is not in the exposure of Jesuitism..... .that Pascal's weakness is to be seen. No, it is in the crouching tenderness and sycophancy with which he handles the known knavery of the Pope; it is in his misrepresentation and declared abhorrence of Luther, Calvin, and the Protestants, against whom he proves nothing and attempts to prove nothing; it is in his greater deference to Fathers and apocryphal writers, than to holy writ, and in his unfounded reverence for transubstantiation, penance, and every other kind of Popish trash. He agreed with Calvin and Luther almost to a tittle, on the subject of efficacious grace; yet on that very point he hesitates not to denounce them as heretics. Though he shows the Pope to have been a party to all the absurd and dangerous intrigues of the Jesuits, he nevertheless doggedly maintains his infallibility; and, when pressed with the difficulties of his false position, endeavours, as unnaturally and ungracefully mounted as a witch upon a broomstick, to ride out of them in the quibble, that the Pope, though fallible in fact, is not so in doctrine."

Jacqueline was deeply affected by these works: the consequence was a strong desire to renounce the world, and to give herself up wholly to God. Her brother had already embraced the same views: both left Rouen for Paris in 1647; they immediately procured an introduction to Port-Royal, and Jacqueline, who had previously been confirmed, chose for her Director the celebrated M. Singlin. At this time she was in constant epistolary communication with her sister Gilberte, now Madame Périer, who had settled at Clermont with her husband and children. An extract or two from her correspondence will be interesting. She concludes a letter to Gilberte by some reflections on the state of Christians in this world :—

“Christians have this advantage, that, if they are forbidden to give themselves up to the pleasures of the world, they ought, on the other hand, not to be grieved by the misfortunes they are called upon to witness; such distresses ought rather to make them rejoice; and as calamities happen undoubtedly more frequently than the reverse, the Christian's joy is likewise much more continual: for this reason our Lord says that nobody can take it from him.......... When I perceive that I am allowing myself to speak to you as if I would teach you, a thought of M. Singlin's comes to my recollection he says, that when we pray, it is not that God may remember our wants, for he knows them already; but it is that we should be reminded of them ourselves. I repeat you the same thing once for all, wishing it to dwell in your mind. Pray God for me, but pray him in earnest: spare also, for my brother, a few private prayers and thanksgivings. I write to you whatever comes upmost in my thoughts. Once more, pray God for me: I want it. Pray him that he may, so to say, draw the sponge over all the time that I have lost, all the occasions neglected, and all the favourable opportunities gone for ever. They are innumerable. Pray him that my submission may be agreeable to him, and procure to me in return blessings infinite, and of which I am unworthy," &c.

The next letter is dated April 1st, 1648. It is likewise directed to Madame Périer. We have borrowed from it the following paragraph on Christian perfection, which we give as it stands in the original :—

Les enfants de Dieu ne doivent point mettre de limites à leur pureté et à leur perfection, parcequ'ils font partie du corps tout divin et infiniment parfait, comme on voit que Jésus Christ ne limite point le commandement de la perfection et qu'il vous en propose un modèle ou elle se trouve infinie, quand il dit: Soyez donc parfaits, comme votre Père céleste est parfait. Aussi c'est une erreur bien préjudiciable parmi les Chrétiens, et parmi ceux-lá même qui font profession de piété, de se persuader qu'il y ait un certain degré de perfection dans lequel on soit en assurance, et qu'il ne soit pas nécessaire de passer, puisqu'il n'y en a point qui ne soit mauvais si on s'y arrête, et dont on puisse éviter de tomber qu'en montant plus haut.

“The children of God ought to aspire to unlimited purity and perfection, being a part of a divine and infinitely perfect body: we see that Christ, instead of setting bounds to the commandment of perfection, places before us an example where this attribute is infinite, when he says, 'Be ye perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.' It is, therefore, very hurtful to Christians, and to those even who profess piety, to believe that there is a certain state of perfection in which they may rest in quiet, and beyond which it is useless to venture. On the contrary, any spiritual attainment is a snare if you are satisfied with it; and you avoid falling only by climbing up higher." But it is now time to turn to Blaise Pascal, who had already, though not yet thirty years old, taken his place among the most illustrious mathema

ticians and philosophers of the seventeenth century. And here our task is considerably lightened by the disquisitions and critical notices which have lately been published, on the subject of Pascal's Thoughts. We shall have, by-and-by, to allude to the controversy between MM. Cousin and Faugère, when the history of Pascal's MSS. comes under notice; for the present we feel that we are performing an act of bare justice, in declaring how completely the clever article in the Edinburgh Review for January last has refuted M. Cousin's charges against Pascal, whilst, at the same time, the cause of real philosophy is maintained by the writer, in the manful and elevated way for which his former reflections on Leibnitz had prepared us.

"Blaise Pascal," it is the Edinburgh Review that speaks, "was born at Clermont, in Auvergne, in the year 1623, and died in the year 1662, at the early age of thirty-nine. When we think of the achievements which he crowded into that brief space, and which have made his name famous to all generations, we may well exclaim with Corneille, A peine a-t-il vécu, quel nom il a laissé!

"It is well known that Pascal exhibited, from the earliest childhood, the most precocious proofs of inventive genius, especially in the department of mathematics. Having, if we may believe the universally-received tradition, been willingly kept in ignorance of geometry, lest his propensity in that direction should interfere with the prosecution of other branches of knowledge, his self-prompted genius discovered for itself the elementary truths of the forbidden science. At twelve years of age, he was surprised by his father in the act of demonstrating, on the pavement of an old hall where he used to play, and by means of a rude diagram, traced by a piece of coal, a proposition which corresponded to the thirty-second of the first book of Euclid. At the age of sixteen, he composed a little tractate on the conic sections, which provoked the mingled incredulity and admiration of Descartes. At nineteen, he invented his celebrated arithmetical machine; and at the age of six-and-twenty, he had composed the greater part of his mathematical works, and made those brilliant experiments in hydrostatics and pneumatics which have associated his name with those of Torricelli and Boyle, and ranked him amongst the first philosophers of his age. Yet, strange to say, he now suddenly renounced the splendid career to which his genius so unequivocally invited him, and gave himself up to totally different studies. This was principally attributable to that strong religious impulse which was imparted to his mind at this period, rendered deeper by early experience in the school of affliction. From the age of eighteen he was a perpetual sufferer. In 1647, when only in his twenty-fourth year, he was attacked with paralysis. His ill health was mainly, if not wholly, occasioned by his devotion to study; and of him it is literally true, that his mind consumed his body."

Pascal, as well as his sister Jacqueline, was at the time under deep religious impressions; but they gradually wore off in his case. "For some years he lived a cheerful, and even gay, though never a dissipated, life, in Paris, in the centre of literary and polite society, loved and admired by a wide circle of friends, and especially by his patron, the Duke de Roannez. To the accomplished sister of this nobleman, M. Faugère conjectures that Pascal was secretly attached, but, from timidity and humility, 'never told his love.' Perhaps, in part, from the melancholy which this hopeless attachment inspired, but certainly much more in consequence of the deeper religious convictions produced by a memorable escape from an appalling death in 1654, his indifference to the world increased; and he at length

sought for solitude at Port-Royal, already endeared to him by the residence there of his sister Jacqueline." "*

This young lady had, at first, a good deal of trouble to encounter before she succeeded in taking the veil : in the year 1648, she applied to her father for his permission to do so; but not being able to obtain it, she satisfied herself with spending a fortnight in the monastery, as a preparation to the life of seclusion and of prayer which she was fully determined to lead, as soon as the path lay clear before her. But, wherever we find Jacqueline,→→ amongst the wilds of Auvergne, or in the din and noise of the French metropolis, we see her courting solitude, and wholly given up to religious exercises. In 1650, the Feast of the Ascension suggested to her mind a series of Meditations, which some editors have often thought of publishing together with the Thoughts of her brother. These Meditations are really admirable, and, save in a few slight expressions, quite in accordance with Gospel Christianity. We regret not to be able to translate them here, in extenso; but the following may serve as a specimen :—

III. Jésus est mort réellement, et non pas en figure ou en désir seulement. Cela m'apprend qu'il faut mourir effectivement au monde, et ne pas me contenter en cela d'imaginations et de belles speculations.

"Jesus died really, and not only figuratively or in desire.

"This teaches me that I must die indeed to the world, without being satisfied with imaginations and vain speculations."

VIII. Jésus n'a pas attendu de mourir de vieillesse, mais a comme prévenu la mort dans sa plus forte jeunesse.

Cela m'apprend à ne pas attendre la défaillance de ma vie pour mourir au monde, mais à prévenir ma mort réelle par la mystique.

"Jesus did not wait till old age should take him from the world, but he met death half-way, as it were, in the strength of his manhood.

"This teaches me not to wait till the decline of life to die to the world, but to anticipate real by mystical death."

XXII. Jésus est mort non seulement dans l'insensibilité mais aussi dans la privation de tous les plaisirs de la vie.

Cela m'apprend que je dois non seulement me tenir dans une veritable indifférence, mais aussi me priver actuellement de tous les plaisirs du monde. "Jesus died, not only insensible to, but deprived of, all the pleasures of life.

"This teaches me, not only to be truly indifferent to such pleasures, but actually to deprive myself of them."

The whole number of these Meditations amounts to fifty-one. They were published, for the first time, in the Entretiens ou Conférences de la révérende Mère Marie-Angélique Arnauld. A Bruxelles, 1757, 12mo.

THE BANDITS OF CORSICA.

CORSICA has been for years the sanctuary of Italian delinquents. Whoever could escape the arm of the law usually fled there, and joined the straggling banditti which infest the woods, to the terror of the natives and

"It is known that in the month of October, 1654, while Pascal was taking an airing on the Pont de Neuilly, in a coach and four, the two leaders took fright, and, there being no parapet at the spot, threw themselves headlong in the Seine. Happily for him, and for us too, the traces broke, and the carriage remained upon the brink of the precipice." (Eclectic Review, vol. xxi., p. 407.)

annoyance of English sportsmen, who are sometimes allured by the temptation of abundant game to approach near their haunts. Mr. Wood, who has married a dear niece of ours, is a keen sportsman. Thinking "a rich guerdon waits on minds that dare," he ventured to Corsica two or three winters ago, accompanied by two friends. They crossed, in December, to Bastia, in a small steamer, of forty-horse power, crowded with labourers from Lombardy and these states: they carried provisions, and hoped to find a country boat to coast to the south, where game abounds; but there were none to be had, and they were obliged to take the steamer to Alesio. A storm during the voyage obliged them to go on shore at night, at some risk of being surprised by banditti. The sailors agreed to keep guard in turn. The sportsmen, hearing a noise towards morning, started up, armed themselves, supposing they were attacked; but it proved to be only the mariners getting out of the vessel. They at length reached the mouth of the river Tavignano, and sounded for entrance, but were driven on a sandbank, the waves beating them about in no pleasant style: after much labour from all hands, they got into smooth water again, made for the landing-place, and walked a mile and a half along the river to a fortress, in which they were provided with a billet, and leave to occupy part of the building not required by the custom-house officers. They had a long room, with a fire-place, forms, and a table, two dormitories, with bedsteads and coverlets. They had taken their own bedding; but there were no cooking utensils, and they were obliged to have recourse to the vessel, and purchase what could be spared. Their dogs occupied a corner of the long room: their servants cut down abundance of wood, and kept up a good fire night and day. Their guns supplied their table, in addition to the Westphalia hams and tongues they had carried with them. Lest they should tire of game, their cook dressed them partridges as veal cutlets, which would have deceived Véry. They killed, in a few weeks, two wild boars, a stag, some chevreuil, with partridges, pheasants, and woodcocks innumerable; but they had seen nothing of the brigands, and feared being obliged to leave the island without any adventure. At length, one evening after sunset, Mr. Wood, having strayed from his companions, was about four miles from the fort, and was crossing a woody, rocky glen, when he perceived a man at a distance with something on his shoulder. He had never before encountered other than shepherds; and, being alone, he thought it wisest to alter his course and avoid him. Supposing he had succeeded, he was startled some time after by a voice from among the trees accosting him with the usual Serva, Signor, and inquiring if he had good sport. He was at the moment enveloped in thick brushwood, and would not reply till he had cleared the coppice, and attained an open space: he then, but without stopping, returned the salutation, and made the same inquiry. "We are not sportsmen," was the reply. "What, then, are you?” "Banditti," was the unhesitating answer: two others came up at the moment. All three were armed to the teeth, with guns on their shoulders, pistols and stilettoes in their sashes: the latter had carved ivory handles. Mr. Wood was fully aware of the awkwardness of his position, but felt no alarm; telling the brigands coolly to keep their distance, and cocked both barrels of his good fowling-piece. In reply to their inquiries, "Where were his friends?" he answered, "They were in the neighbourhood." They also asked to look at his gun; but he said, "It was a rule of his never to let it out of his hand.” He then entered freely into conversation with the outlaws, and told them he was glad to meet with some of them before he left the island, regretting