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And when at times he exceeded his income, and his friends remonstrated with him on account of it, he would answer, "I have invariably found, that however poor a man is, he has something left when he dies." He was often reduced to the necessity of borrowing money at interest, to indulge himself in these charitable donations. And at one time, when there was a prospect of his income being increased, he proposed to borrow a large sum in advance, upon the strength of his expectations, that he might send it to the poor of Blois, whose distresses were then peculiarly severe.

her, without delay, to a seminary, where he placed her under the care of a pious clergyman, provided for her support, and, through the assistance of a female friend, settled her, at length, in a comfortable situation.

Another instance of the extreme force of the principle of charity in his mind, occurred subsequently to this. He had been seized with such a degree of nausea, that his medical attendant had required him to abstain from all solid food; and he was, in consequence, reduced to great weakness. He had in his house at the time, a poor man, with his wife and family, for whose accommodation, he had given up one of his rooms. One of the children had fallen ill of the small-pox; and Pascal, who needed at the time, on account of his great debility, the attendance of his sister, was unwilling that she should come to him, from the risk of infection to her children. It became necessary, therefore, that he and his sick inmate should separate; but considering the probability of danger to the child, if he were removed, he preferred to submit to the inconvenience himself, and consequently, allowing the poor family to retain possession, he left his own house, never to return, and came to die at Madame Perier's. Whether this be viewed in the light of an act of tenderness to the poor, or of selfdenial for the comfort and the safety of his relatives, it is equally lovely, and worthy of regard and veneration.

His views on the subject of charity towards the poor, are thus given by Madame Perier. "His regard for the poor had always been great; but it was so far increased towards the close of his life, that I could not please him better than by indulging it. For four years he continued to press upon me the duty of dedicating myself and my children to the service of the poor. And when I replied, That I feared this would interfere with the proper care of my family, he answered, 'That this was only the want of good-will, and that this virtue might be practised without any injury to domestic concerns.' He said that charity was generally the vocation of Christians, and that it needed no particular mark to indicate a call to it, for it was certain, that on that very ground, Christ would judge the world; and that when we consider that the mere omission of this duty will be the cause of the soul's eternal ruin, this one thought, if we have faith, should lead us Three days after this circumstance, Pascal was willingly to suffer the privation of all things. He visited by that attack of disease which removed said also, that the habit of going among the poor, him out of this present world. It began with viois extremely useful, because we acquire a practical lent internal pain; the severity of which, he enconviction of the miseries under which they suffer; dured with wonderful patience and composure. and we cannot see them wanting, in their extremity, His medical attendants perceived, that his sufferthe common necessaries and comforts of life, with-ings were very great; but finding his pulse good, out being willing to part with our own luxurious superfluities.

Such sentiments led us to adopt some general plan, according to which, the necessities of all might be supplied; but this he did not approve. He said, we were not called to act on general principles, but to meet particular cases; and he believed, that the most pleasing method of serving God, was in serving the poor out of our poverty; that each should relieve the poor around him, according to his several ability, without occupying his mind with those great designs, which aim at a fancied and probably unattainable excellence of operation, and leave the practicable good undone; and that instead of intermeddling with great enterprises which are reserved for but few, Christians generally were called to the daily assistance of the poor in the particular cases which occurred within the sphere of their own immediate influence."*

One very interesting instance of Pascal's benevolence occurred about three months before his death. As he returned one day from the Church of St. Sulpice, he was accosted by a young person about fifteen years of age, and very beautiful, who asked charity. He felt the danger of her situation, and inquired into her circumstances; and having learned that she came from the country-that her father was dead, and that her mother being ill, had been that day brought to the Hotel Dieu for medical assistance; he regarded himself as sent of God to her relief, in the crisis of her necessity; and he took

This thought will recall to the attention, the lessons of a modern school of no little celebrity; and the peculiar, but important and convincing statements of one great mind, from which that school has originated. It is impossible to be well acquainted with the writings of Pascal and of Chalmers, and not to feel in more instances than one, the striking coincidence of thought between them

and no appearance of fever, they ventured to assure his friends, that there was not the least shadow of danger. Pascal however felt that owing to the severity of his sufferings, and the exhaustion of constant sleeplessness, he was becoming much enfeebled, and on the fourth day of his illness, sent for the curate of the parish, and confessed. The report of this spread rapidly among his friends; and they gathered round him, overwhelmed with apprehension. The medical men were so surprised by this, that they said, it was an indication of fear on his part, which they did not anticipate from him; and, notwithstanding his suspicions, they persisted in maintaining a favorable opinion of his case. In the mean time, however, he became much more emaciated; and believing, in opposition to all their representations, that he was really in danger, he communicated freely and repeatedly with the curate, on the subject of his religious hope.

At this time also he made his will, on which occasion he stated, that if M. Perier had been at Paris, and would have consented, he would have given all his property to the poor. He said to Madame Perier, "How is it that I have done nothing for the poor, though I have always loved them?" To which she replied, "Your means have not been such as to enable you to do much for them." "But," said he, "if I could not give them money, I might, at least, have given my time and my labor. Here I have come short indeed! And if the physicians are right, and God permits me to recover, I am determined to have no other employment all the rest of my life."

There are multitudes of persons gifted with both wealth and leisure, who know nothing whatever of the wants and miseries of the poor, and of those scenes of distress and death which occur around them, and which, a little attention on their part, might materially alleviate. To float upon the i stream of pleasure—to indulge a luxurious and sel

fish listlessness, in the expenditure of all the means that they can command-to turn away from, and forget that others are miserable, this seems with many the great object of life. Let such persons look at Pascal, at the close of a life of disease, the small intervals of which, he had dedicated to useful and charitable purposes; let them consider his sincere and penitential regrets, that he had done so little for his poorer fellow-creatures; and then let them ask themselves, how they will meet the solemn scrutiny of that hour, when God will enter into judgment with them? It is an awful sentence, "In as much as ye did it not, to the least of these my brethren, ye did it not to me." The truly Christian view of duty in this respect is, that the gifts of a bounteous Providence, are not bestowed on us for personal indulgence; but that while we take a moderate and rational enjoyment of the comforts of life, we should regard ourselves as stewards of the manifold gifts of God, to dispense blessings to those who suffer, and to make the opportunity of relieving temporal distresses, the channel for a gift still more valuable, in the instruction of the soul in righteousness. To live for this, is duty and happi

ness.

The Saviour of mankind lived among the poor of this world, and labored for their relief and their salvation. Pascal endeavored to follow in the steps of his blessed Master, and only regretted, that he had done this so imperfectly. And whoever shall strive sincerely to follow the lovely example of Christ's most holy life, will find in it, both here and hereafter, an abundant blessing-a blessing which no contingency can alter-the present sense of Divine favor on earth, and the approving smile of his gracious and compassionate Lord in heaven.

The patience with which Pascal endured pain, was equally remarkable with his overflowing love to the poor. When some one observed to him the distress which they felt at seeing him suffer, he answered, "It does not grieve me. I only fear to be relieved. I know both the dangers of health, and the benefit of suffering. Do not mourn for me; disease is the natural and proper state for Christians. Then we are, as we ought to be-in a state of affliction, by which we become alienated from the joys and the pleasures of sense, and delivered from those passions which disturb all other periods of our life; we are freed from ambition and from avarice, and looking perpetually for death. Is not this the life that a Christian should live? Is it not a privilege to be brought into a state that makes it imperative so to live; and that requires only the duty of humble and thankful submission? For this reason, I desire no other blessing now of God, than that he would continue to me the grace of sanctified affliction."

He was so simple and child-like in his spirit, that he would listen to any one who pointed out a fault in him, and yielded implicitly to their advice. The exquisite sensitiveness of his mind, sometimes betrayed him into impatience; but if this was mentioned to him, or if he discovered that he had grieved any one, he instantly addressed himself to the reparation of his fault, by acts of the most unqualified tenderness and kindness. The curate of St. Etienne, who attended him during the whole of his illness, used to say repeatedly, "He is an infanthumble and submissive as an infant." And another ecclesiastic who came to see him, and remained an hour with him, said to Madame Perier when he left him, "Be comforted, Madame; if God calls him, you have good reason to bless him for the grace bestowed on your brother. I have always admired many noble points about his character; but I have never noticed any thing superior to the child-like simplicity which he now exhibits. In a

great mind like his, this is incomparably lovely. I would gladly change places with him."

As the time drew on, he earnestly desired to receive the sacrament; but the medical men opposed it, on the ground that they could not justify the administering the viaticum, because he was not in immediate danger of death; and because he was too weak to receive it with fasting, according to the customary method of persons not dangerously ill; and that it was preferable, that he should wait till he was able to receive it at the church. His sufferings, however, continued to increase; and though they yielded, in a degree, to the influence of medicine, they were, at length, attended with severe pain and giddiness in the head, which distressed him greatly, and induced him to press on his friends with the greatest earnestness, that they would allow him to partake of the Lord's Supper, and cease to make those objections by which he had hitherto been prevented from receiving it. He said, "They do not feel what I suffer; and they will find themselves mistaken about me. There is something very extraordinary about this pain in my head." When, however, he found that his wish was still opposed, he ceased to importune, but said, "Since they will not grant me this favor, let me, at least, substitute something else in its stead. If I may not communicate with the head, at least, let me have communion with the members. Let a poor person be brought into the house, and treated with the same attention as myself, that in the confusion with which I am overwhelmed at the abundance of my mercies, I may, at least, have the gratification of knowing, that one poor creature shares them with me. For when I think of my own comforts, and of the multitude of poor who are in a worse state than I am, and are destitute of the merest necessaries, I feel a distress which I cannot endure." And when he found that this wish could not be granted, he entreated to be carried out to the Hospital of the Incurables, that he might die among the poor. He was told, that the physicians could not consent to his being removed, at which he was much grieved, and made his sister promise, that if he at all revived, this indulgence should be granted to him.

About midnight, however, of the 17th of August, he was seized with violent convulsions, at the termination of which, he appeared to be rapidly sinking; and his friends began to fear, that although Madame Perier had, of her own accord, made arrangements for his partaking of the Lord's Supper on that day, he must at length, die without the comfort of that sacred ordinance, which he had so earnestly requested, and which they, at the instance of the medical advisers, had withheld. But, as if God was willing graciously to indulge his request, his convulsions subsided, and his senses became as perfectly collected, as if he were in health; and just at this moment, the curate arrived with the sacred elements. As the curate entered the room, he said, "Now you shall be indulged in your earnest wish." This address completely roused him. He raised himself by his own strength on his elbow, to receive the communion with greater outward reverence. On being questioned previously as to the leading points of the faith, he answered distinctly to each question, "Yes, sir, I believe this with all my heart." He then received the viaticum, and extreme unction, with sentiments of the tenderest emotion, and with tears. He repeated the several responses; he thank ed the curate for his attention; and when he received his blessing, said, "May my God never forsake me.” Excepting a short expression of thanksgiving, these were his last words. Immediately afterward, the convulsions again returned, and continued till his death, about twenty-four hours after, without any returning interval of consciousness. He died on

the 19th of August, 1662, at one o'clock in the morning, aged thirty-nine years, and two months.

On examination, his stomach and liver were found very much diseased, and his intestines in a state of mortification.

Thus died a man who was one of the brightest ornaments that the church of Rome could ever boast. If nothing else were wanting, there is, in the life and death of Pascal ample proof, that notwithstanding all the wretched errors and criminal abominations of that apostate church, and the fearful wickedness, hypocrisy, and pretence of a large portion of its ecclesiastics, there have been some faithful men, sincere servants of God, who have adhered to its communion. In proof of this it is fashionable and popular now, for the friends of Rome, to make a parade of the virtues and merits of Pascal; but then, it must ever be remembered, that though he remained in the communion of the Romish church, and cordially submitted to its discipline, and respected what he considered as the unity of the church, never was any man a more determined enemy of its errors. He was hated as the very scourge of its abominations; and there is good reason for suspicion, that the man of whom now they make their boast, was not permitted by them to continue the exercise of those commanding talents, which would have gone far towards working a reformation in the church of France, at least, if not elsewhere. Louis de Montalte could never be forgiven, by that deep designing body of men, whom he had exposed; and who have always regarded poison among the most legitimate modes of silencing an adversary.

de Port Royal were well known, it would be seen that the Jesuits never ceased from their political intrigues, till they had succeeded in expelling this last remnant of pure religion from the church of France. The Protestants were murdered by thousands. This need not be wondered at. But in proof that the hostility of the Jesuits was not against names and sects, so much as against principles, we have their inflexible hostility and unrelenting persecution of these great and holy men, who were faithful and regular members of their communion, but who differed from the Jesuits, mainly in this, that instead of making a religious profession a cloak for personal aggrandizements, for the accumulation of wealth, the attainment of power, and the secret command of every sensual indulgence, they were, in the midst of a corrupt church with which they were conscientiously associated, faithful, humble, self-denied followers of the blessed Jesus. The fact is a valuable one. It teaches, that there may be in remote corners, and in private life, and possibly even in the priesthood, some individuals in the communion of Rome, who are the sincere servants of God; yet that wherever they are, they must, in their conscience, protest against and renounce some of the evils by which they are surrounded; but that the grand scheme and system of its hierarchy is a mere pretence-a forcing upon men of a human system of policy and power, garnished with every trick and trapping that art can invent, and blind and childish superstition receive, to conceal its real deformity, infidelity, and cool intentional iniquity from its deluded followers. Through all this mass of mischief, it is just possible, that in the mercy of God, a man may find his way to the Saviour, and repose his soul upon the simple promise of salvation through him; but he who does so, must first renounce those other grounds of confidence which the Romish church puts far more prominently forward, the merit of his own works and penances-the blasphemous indulgences of the Pope and his vicars-the value of money as a coin current at the gate of heaven-the impious adoration of a woman, who has herself entered heaven only as a forgiven sinner, and the idolatrous worship, and the fabled intercession of the whole Calendar of Saints, many of whom, it is to be feared, are not in heaven, and never will be. Not one of these vital errors stained the creed of Pascal. His great mind threw them all off as utterly inconsistent with the simplicity of the Christian faith. But how few must they be, who have strength for this! How few are likely to discern, through these mists of error, the simple object of worship and confidence in the incarnate Son of God, or to break through all this bondage, to the liberty wherewith Christ has made us free!

Most probably Pascal fell the slow but certain victim of their enmity. The circumstances of his disease were very peculiar. They were evidently unintelligible to his physicians, who had no conception that he was so near his end; and the extensive decay that had taken place within, can scarcely be referred to any one specific disease, without the symptoms of it having been such, as to render its nature unequivocal. To these grounds of suspicion are to be added, the unquestionable sentiments of the school of the Jesuits, on this method of removing an obnoxious person, and the many authenticated instances of murder in which they are implicated. It would be cruel indeed to charge the Jesuits as a body, with more than the enormous load of guilt which lies upon their heads; but knowing as we do historically, their dark machinations, their bitter and unmitigable hate, and their bold admission of the principle, that the end sanctifies the means knowing also that no individual ever did more than Pascal did to sting them to the quick, and to bring all their rancor and malice in its deadliest form upon his head, it is impossible to look at the suspi- The man who is saved in the Romish church, cious circumstances of his death-bed, without fear must be essential protestant against its errors; and and indignation. This is, however, one of those mys- till the whole body of its hierarchy shall be brought teries which must be referred, with many other to this, and to lay their unscriptural and unholy hoscenes of horror and treachery, in which Rome has nors at the feet of Him whose power they have borne a part, to that day when "the earth shall dis- usurped, and whose truth and purity they have libelclose her blood, and shall no more cover her slain." led and insulted, this must continue to be the case. It is impossible, however, to leave this subject with- And if this be the fact, then it must ever be a subject out recalling to the recollection, that the society of of mourning, that any portion of our empire is so the Jesuits is revived-that their principles of mo- criminally left to this meagre chance of salvation rals and of policy are precisely the same as ever-in her communion. However men may differ as to that they have never disclaimed a single sentiment of all their code of vice; and that at this moment, they have large educational establishments, not only in Ireland, but in the very heart of Britain.

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their opinion of the rights of men, as subjects of a human government, it becomes them to remember what the Church of Rome has ever been, and what in all its avowed sentiments and public documents it still is-the patron of ignorance and debasing superstition in the mass of its members; and if they see it right to give liberty to her sons with one hand, they should be yet more strenuous to give them light with the other. Nothing can be more awful, and to the British empire more disgraceful,

tionate reliance upon the blessing of a Divine power, which makes a man regardless of consequences, as long as he does his duty-these were the qualities which fitted him, in an especial manner, to be the champion of scriptural truth, in the fallen church of the Papacy. Had he been gifted with health and strength, he was the man, of all others, adapted to accomplish a general return to the Christian principles from which that church had strayed; and if views, simple and scriptural as his, had spread and become popular-if the bad parts of the Romish system had, with others, as with him, fallen into dissuetude and contempt; and its ministers, instead of being the fawning supporters of an unchristian tyranny over the consciences of men and the sceptres of the earth, had become like him, the faithful advocates of the leading features of scriptural truth such a change would have gone far to satisfy the Christian world. There can be no wish, on the part of the universal church of Christ, to unchurch the Church of Rome, or needlessly to interfere with any of its views or non-essential points, which are harmless in their nature, and are, in fact, ground

than that 300 years after the reformation, four millions of its subjects, at our very doors, should be in a state of the most melancholy ignorance of the first principles of the pure word of God, worshipping idols, doing meritorious penances, wearing charms and consecrated amulets, trusting purchased indulgences, vowing allegiance to a foreign potentate, as the representative of their God, and denouncing certain perdition on all those who are not partakers of their folly. When will the spirit of our fathers come upon us again? Where is the mantle of our Elijahs of former days? When will a truly Protestant heart return again to the British people? When will the day come, in which we shall be prepared, as a people, in the simplicity of a scriptural faith, to leave the message of mercy unfettered by the safeguards of human prudence, to win its cwn triumphant way to the hearts of men? When will the churches of this favored land, rise, as with one consent, against the vile and debasing superstitions which the influence of Rome still pours as a poisonous deluge over so fair a portion of the British dominions; when they shall go forth, not to increase or to perpetuate the political rigors of former days-on which charity requires all to be neutral; and nor to punish, by the privation of civil rights, the though, upon some points, that church might still errors of an uninformed and misguided conscience; be regarded by some as too superstitious, yet had but to visit these sad victims of priestcraft and de- she openly and honestly maintained and preached lusion, with the kindly offices of mercy and love, to the doctrine of her Pascals, and Arnaulds, and remonstrate affectionately, to reason calmly, to open Quesnels, and Fenelons, the leading features of and explain the Scriptures, to preach in their high-quarrel with her on the part of the Protestant ways and hedges the unsearchable riches of the churches, would have almost ceased to exist. gospel of Christ, and to triumph as the Head and High-priest of our profession triumphed, by turning them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God.

But it is not so. These men must now be looked on only as extraordinary exceptions, from the dominant evils of that community. They are not speci mens of the brilliant attainments in knowledge and Pascal was a very striking instance of the superi- piety of the disciples of the Papacy. They are anoority of a great mind, enlightened by the reading of malies to the universality of error. They are only Scripture, to the errors and superstitions of his age a few scattered lights, that have been permitted ocand country. Though he was a layman, yet to him, casionally to shine out amidst the surrounding as a man of learning, those Scriptures were open, gloom-to make the palpable thickness of the darkfrom which the common people are, by authority, ness that covers the multitude more visible. They excluded; and the promised blessing of God attend- are only proofs of what the Romish clergy should ed the obedient study of His word. The progress have been, and might have been, even while they of his mind was rapid, in the perception of religious remained conscientiously in communion with that truth, and in the discrimination of it from the essen- church. But they stand forth as a swift witness tial and destructive errors with which it had been against the errors, that have almost universally mixed up, in the avowed doctrinal sentiments of the been sanctioned and encouraged by its authorities; Romish Church. His views were clear, perspicu- and perhaps, no condemnation more fearful will ous, and liberal; and, at the same time, he main-issue in the last day against the antichristian errors tained a chastened, child-like, and humble spirit. But there was in him that inflexible rectitude of mind, by which he saw almost intuitively, the prominent and essential features of truth; and grasp ing these with gigantic firmness, he was prepared, in the seraphic strength which they imparted, to combat for them against the world. Of course, the accuracy and keenness with which he detected error was equally remarkable, and only equalled by the honesty with which he went forth against it. He knew his own principles too well to be inconsistent. He knew the power and the promises of God too well, to be any other than undaunted. He was prepared equally to defend Divine truth against infidelity or superstition, or against that worst, and most frequent of all opponents in the Romish Church, against him who upholds for sinister purposes, the superstitious practices which, in the secret of his heart, he holds in contempt.

To this unbending rectitude of spirit, Pascal united talents peculiarly adapted to make him a powerful and efficient controversialist. The readiness which brings all his powers up at the moment of necessity; the perspicuity which facilitates the communication of ideas, and the playful wit which adorns them; the habitual humility which is the best safeguard against betraying himself by the indulgence of any evil passion, and the simple, affec

of Rome, than that which marks, with Divine approbation, the solemn protestation of Pascal and his friends, and recognizes the melancholy fact, that sound scriptural truth was hunted down and persecuted, and condemned in their persons, and the true religion of the Saviour once more sacrificed in them to the worldly policy and intrigue, to the pride and passion of the Jesuits.

With the death of Pascal, and the banishment of his friends, all rational hope of the reformation of the French church ceased. "Darkness covered the people-gross darkness that might be felt." And from that day to this, successive woes have fallen, in almost unmingled bitterness, on that irreligious and careless people. What further evils may yet assail them, time will unfold; but even now, increasing darkness gathers round. The sad lessons of experienced suffering, are already thrown aside; and darker superstition frowns, while she forges for them new and heavier chains. In the prospect of the gloom that lowers upon that melancholy country, and in the belief that the torch of truth in the hand of the Jansenists, and of their great champion, might have dispelled it, the friends of true religion may well take up the friendly lamentation which mourned over the tomb of Pascal, the loss sustained by his country in his untimely fall, and say, Heu! Heu! Cecidit Pascalis.

Pascal was buried at Paris, in the parish church of St. Etienne du Mont, behind the main altar, near to, and directly before the pillar on the left hand, entering the Chapel of the Virgin. A Latin epitaph, remarkably quaint and original in its style, written by Aimonius Proust de Chambourg, Professor of Law in the University of Orleans, was laid over the grave; but as it lay in a very frequented part of the church, it was speedily effaced; and a second inscription, engraved on a marble tablet, was affixed to the pillar immediately adjoining. This second inscription, owing to some repairs in the church, was afterwards removed, and placed over the side door at the right side of the church. During the revolution, it was carried away to the Museum of French Monuments; but on the 21st of April, 1818, it was restored to its original pillar, in the presence of the Prefect of the department of the Seine, a deputation of the academy, and many relations of the deceased.

Nobilissimi Scutarii Blasii Pascalis Tumulus.

D. O. M.

BLASIUS PASCALIS SCUTARIUS NOBILIS
HIC JACET.

Pietas si non moritur, æternum vivet;
Vir conjugii nescius,
Religione sanctus, Virtute clarus,
Doctrina celebris,
Ingenio acutus,

Sanguine et animo pariter illustris;
Doctus, non Doctor,
Equitatis amator,
Veritatis defensor,
Viginum ultor,

Christiana Moralis Čorruptorum acerrimus hostis.
Hunc Rhetores amant facundum,
Hunc Scriptores norunt elegantem,
Hunc Mathematici stupent profundum,

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Pro columna superiori,

Sub tumulo marmoreo,

Jacet BLASIUS PASCAL, Claromontanus, Stephani Pascal in Suprema apud Arvernos Subsidiorum Curia Præsidis filius, post aliquot annos in severiori secessu et divinæ legis meditatione transactos, feliciter et religiose in pace Christi, vita functus anno 1662, ætatis 39, die 19 Augusti. Optasset ille quidem præ paupertatis et humilitatis studio, etiam his sepulchri honoribus carere, mortuusque etiamnum latere, qui vivus semper latere voluerat. Verum ejus hac in parte votis cum cedere non posset Florinus Perier in eadem suosidiorum Curia Consiliarius, ac Gilbertæ Pascal, Blasii Pascal sororis, conjux amantissimus, hanc tabulam posuit, qua et suam in illum pietatem significaret, et Christianos ad Christiana precum officia sibi et defuncto profutura cohortaretur.

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