“O marvel not, Armand, the great, the wise,
If I have failed to please thine ear, thine eyes;
My sorrowing spirit, torn by countless fears,
Each sound forbiddeth save the voice of tears.
With power to please thee wouldst thou me inspire?—
Recall from exile now my hapless sire.”
She has herself described, in an interesting letter to her father, [13] the whole incident, and the result of her intercession. Having told how the Cardinal had been previously well prepared, and had the true state of the case explained in reference to her father, who appears to have been in no degree to blame in the agitation which called forth the displeasure of the Government, she says that—
“M. le Cardinal appeared to take great pleasure in the representation, especially when I spoke. He laughed very much, as did the whole company. When the comedy was finished, I descended from the theatre with the design of speaking to Madame d’Aiguillon [the same lady who had already interested herself in the business]. But as the Cardinal seemed about to leave, I approached him directly, and recited to him the verses I send you. He received them with extraordinary affection and caresses more than you can imagine; for at first, when I approached, he cried, ‘Voilà la petite Pascal!’ Then he embraced me and kissed me, and while I said my verses he continued to hold me in his arms, and kissed me each moment with great satisfaction. And then when I was done he said, ‘Yes; I grant to you all that you ask; write to your father that he may return with safety.’ Thereupon Madame d’Aiguillon approached, and addressed the Cardinal. ‘It is truly well, sir, that you do something for this man. I have heard him spoken of as a thoroughly honest and learned man, and it is a pity he should remain unemployed. Then he has a son who is very learned in mathematics, although as yet only fifteen years of age.’ The Cardinal assured me once more that I might tell you to return in all safety; and as he seemed in such good humour, I asked him further that you might be allowed yourself to pay your thanks and respects to his Eminence. He said you would be welcome; and then, with other discourse, repeated, ‘Tell your father, when he returns, to come and see me.’ This he said three or four times. After this, as Madame d’Aiguillon was going away, my sister went forward to salute her. She received her with many caresses, and inquired for our brother, whom she said she wished to see. It was this that led to his introduction to the Duchess, who paid him many compliments on his scientific attainments. We were then conducted to a room, where we had a magnificent collation of dried sweetmeats, fruits, lemonade, and such things. Here the Duchess renewed her caresses in a manner you will hardly believe. In short, I cannot tell how much honour I received, for I am obliged to write as succinctly as possible. I am greatly obliged to M. de Moudroy for all the trouble he has taken, and I beg you will be so good as write to him by the first post to thank him, for he well deserves it. As for me, I esteem myself extremely happy to have in any way assisted in a result which must give you satisfaction.”
This letter was written from Paris on the 4th April 1639, when Jacqueline Pascal was therefore only fourteen years of age. It is in all respects a remarkable and interesting production, both for the glimpse it gives of the great Cardinal in his hours of ease, and its revelation of Jacqueline’s own character,—her dramatic cleverness, her firmness and wisdom in assailing the Cardinal with her prepared verses at the right moment, her self-conscious importance as the chief actor of such a scene, and all the same, her girlish enjoyment of the sweetmeats provided for her. It is a pleasant enough picture; and it deserves especially to be noticed how prominently the
scientific reputation of her brother, only two years older than herself, is already recognised.
The sequel was all that could have been desired. The father hastened, at the summons of his daughter, to pay his respects to Richelieu, who gave him a welcome reception. “I know all your merit,” he said. “I restore you to your children, and commend them to you. I desire to do something considerable for you.” Within two years Étienne Pascal was, in consequence, appointed Intendant of Rouen, where he settled with his family in 1641. Disturbances had arisen in Normandy at this time in connection with the payment of taxes, and the Government, believing that the Parliament at Rouen had not acted with sufficient vigour, took the matter into their own hands, and sent their officers to collect the revenues of the province. [15] Étienne Pascal’s character and previous labours in this capacity, no less than his restoration to the Cardinal’s favour, pointed him out as a man specially fitted for this work, which in the circumstances was not unattended with danger. The work in itself was also harassing and troublesome; and the youthful Pascal, anxious to assist his father, had busied himself in the invention of a machine for performing arithmetical calculations, which made a great sensation at the time. Ingenious as the machine was, it came to little, as we shall see in the next chapter, which will be devoted to a brief account of Pascal’s scientific discoveries. In the meantime it will be better to confine ourselves to the thread of his personal history up to the important epoch which is known as his first conversion.
Settled at Rouen, he pursued his studies with unremitting devotion, and with only too little regard for his health. His elder sister, who might have won him occasionally to lighter pursuits, was married to her cousin M. Périer in 1641, and two years afterwards went with him to Clermont, where her husband was appointed a Counsellor in the Court of Aides. Jacqueline was absorbed in her own poetical studies, which received a special impetus from the friendship of Corneille, who had returned at this time to his native town. The illustrious dramatist speedily sought out the Pascal family, and became one of their most intimate associates. A prize being given every year for the best copy of verses on the “Conception of the Virgin,” it was awarded to certain verses of Jacqueline’s for the year 1640. When the announcement of the result was made she was absent, but a friend of the family rose and returned thanks in verse in the name of the youthful poetess—Pour une jeune muse absente. The friend was Corneille, whose impromptu lines on the occasion, along with those of Jacqueline, are still preserved. [16] Neither have much poetic merit, but they recall an interesting incident.
A bright atmosphere of intellectual emulation and cheerful prospects surrounds the family at this time. But all the while it is evident, from Madame Périer’s account, that her brother was injuring his health greatly in his undue assiduity in his scientific pursuits. The attempts to perfect the construction of his arithmetical machine seem especially to have worn out his delicate frame, and to have laid the foundation of the nervous
prostration from which he more or less suffered all his life afterwards. “From the age of eighteen,” she says in a significant passage that her brother “hardly ever passed a day without pain. In the intermissions of his sufferings, however, his spirit was such that he was constantly bent on some new discovery.” [17]
In the beginning of 1646 an accident happened which had important consequences both to Pascal and his sisters. Étienne Pascal fell upon the ice and severely sprained his foot. During his confinement he was attended by two brothers who had acquired repute in the treatment of such injuries. They were gentlemen of family in the neighbourhood, who had devoted themselves to medicine and anatomy from benevolent instincts and the love of these studies. Both were disciples of a clergyman at Rouville, who was an enthusiastic pietist and friend of St Cyran. Crowds flocked to hear Pastor Guillebert whenever he preached, and many were stirred by his eloquence to devote themselves to pious and philanthropical labours. One of the brothers under this inspiring guidance built a hospital at the end of his park, and gave his children to the service of the Church in various capacities. The other brother, who had no children, provided beds in the hospital and attended the sick poor.