be destined to pursue, determined to devote himself entirely to his education; and with this view he established himself in Paris when Blaise was in his eighth year, resolved, whatever might he the bent of the boy's genius, that the classic languages should take the place due to them in his mental training. But in this instance the great truth that nature will have her way, received a remarkable illustration. It is probable that the father had noticed the buddings of the geometric mind in his son, and therefore resolved that until Homer, Demosthenes, Cicero, Virgil, had fully done their office upon him, the boy should not hear a whisper about Euclid, or catch a glimpse of lines, angles, circles. These precautions were useless; for this geometric spirit, with a bit of charcoal in hand, had created for himself before he had reached his twelfth year, an elementary geometry. Detected by the amazed father in this clandestine employment, the interdiction was withdrawn; and thenceforward the youth, initiated now in mathematical science, mastered its problems with the rapidity of intuition. At sixteen (so it is affirmed) he produced a treatise upon the conic sections which amazed the mathematicians of the time; and at three-and-twenty he had acquired a European reputation in physical science. But at this early age Pascal's career in secular philosophy was brought to a close by the sudden revulsion of his mind from all pursuits of this order, and the dedication of his faculties and energies unreservedly to religious purposes. He had, however, already done enough, it is said, to awaken the jealousy of Des Cartes, who saw in him the indications, or rather the substantial proofs, of powers of mind which would speedily place even so young a man in the forefront, as well of physical as of mathematical science. A calculating machine, the principle of which was described by Diderot in the Encyclopedia, had occupied Pascal's thoughts, and he had made some progress in the mechanical realization of his idea. A model of this machine is reported to be preserved in the museum of arts and trades, to which is attached a notification in these words, Esto probati instrumenti signaculum hoc, Blasius Pascal, Avernus, 1652. His part in determining the problem of the ascent of fluids in tubes by suction, and in ascertaining the fact of the weight of the atmosphere, was not that of a discoverer; but it was indicative of the sagacity, which, like that of Newton, at the first presentation of misunderstood facts descries the true explication. Galileo had stripped the ancient absurdity of its mysterious guise, putting it forth under terms of corresponding absurdity—"Nature abhors a vacuum;" and he had said—"Either Nature's abhorrence ceases to act at a height of thirty-three feet," or at that height her power to give effect to her dislike is exhausted. Torricelli, Galileo's disciple, interpreted this fanciful language in the style proper to physical science, and the tube he constructed gave its evidence in support of this interpretation. Pascal then came in to dispel the remaining ambiguity concerning the weight of the atmosphere, which he said should diminish proportionately as we ascend heights. The experiments made at Puy de Dome by his brother-in-law, M. Perier, brought the problem to its conclusion. Boyle had reached the same result in another manner. It may be proper here to say that the incomplete essay, included in the recent editions of Pascal's works, and entitled "Fragment d'un Traité du Vide," has a more remote relation to the subject above referred to than might be supposed from the title; for it is mainly a statement of the case as between the ancients and ourselves in matters of philosophy, and so likewise is the remarkable tract "De l'esprit Géométrique," which takes a hearing rather upon general principles of moral reasoning than upon mathematical demonstration. In this essay Pascal has come very near to an announcement of doctrines that have been maintained in our times by Sir William Hamilton and his disciples.
The space at our command would be quite insufficient for giving even a much condensed account of Pascal's achievements as a mathematician, or for discussing the still undetermined question of priority of invention on this ground; nor can it be attempted to state the case, as between himself and our countryman Wallis, in the controversy that arose out of the "cycloid" prize problems. In that instance, as in later instances, national feeling has too far come in to sway the judgments even of the loftiest minds; and this too in relation to subjects that ought to exclude every disturbing influence of a lower order. But we must turn from Pascal the mathematician and physical philosopher, to Pascal the theological controvertist, the professor of divine philosophy, and the christian apologist. Seven years before the time when this change in his views and course of life took place, his constitution had given way under the strain put upon it by excessive mental occupation and unremitting labour. Thenceforward, that is to say, from about his eighteenth year to his death, he suffered from a complication of maladies, and these were grievously aggravated by the abstinences and the rigours of the stern ascetic principles which he had adopted. So it was that bodily miseries, suggesting to a strong mind a cruel doctrine of voluntary martyrdom, gave intensity to these sufferings, which again reacted upon the religious consciousness. Thus, from year to year, the anguish of the body gave more and more severity to the ascetic rule which it had itself originated. But we have now to do with Pascal's mind, not in its infirmities, but in its powers—not as the causeless martyr to mistaken notions, but as an immortal witness in behalf of eternal truths. The reports, in detail, made by his sister, Madame Perier, of her brother's almost incredible self-inflicted miseries we may well leave where they are, only regretting that while she relates so many instances of ascetic heroism in which he has been outdone by many a fakir, she affords exceedingly little information concerning those courses of thought and action in which her brother stands, if not alone, yet in company with a few only of all minds that are known to history. Religious in turn of mind from his boyhood, and pure in his conduct, he became, so it is said, suddenly a religious man in consequence of a narrow escape from being hurled with his carriage into the Seine from the Pont-Neuf. From that date, October, 1654, it is certain that Pascal relinquished almost entirely secular studies—laboured to forget the fascinations of abstract and physical science, and dedicated his powers of mind and his pen absolutely to the service of God, and the defence of Christianity and of its ministers, or of those of them who seemed at that moment to need the aid he could give them. The force of Pascal's mind, its depth and grasp, its comprehensiveness, as well as the extraordinary intensity of his feelings, gave to his religious principles a grandeur and a power which might, as we are tempted to think, have carried him clear of Romanism, and its superstitions, and its fallacious assumptions. Familiar as he was with the scriptures, and resentful of evasive argumentation, how was it that the arm which demolished jesuitism failed to cleave in two the papacy itself? The problem is not altogether insoluble. The Reformation movement of the sixteenth century is always to be thought of as a force acting upon all minds under the law of polarity:—The German religious movement had its opposite—its positive and its negative action; as it drew millions of minds on the one side, so did it (quite apart from the jesuit counter influence) drive millions of minds to the contrary side. The Romanism of devout Romanists became fervent where it had been only formal; and fanatical, where it had been easy or luxurious. While Luther and Calvin pulled down, or laboured to pull down the papacy, they also built up Romanism by antagonism. As to Pascal, the influence of this reaction may be traced everywhere throughout his writings. This powerful mind, the mass and momentum of which was prodigious, cleared a way for itself through all entanglements; and yet it comes forth into daylight with the rendings and the rags of the same still attached to the surface.
Pascal's intimacy with the illustrious men of Port Royal was in a manner a matter of course. The Abbess Angelica Arnauld, the two Arnaulds her brothers, Le Maitre, De Saci, Nicole, Lancelot, Hermant, S. Cyran, who were either residents there, or were frequent visitors, rendered this retreat from the noisy world attractive in the highest degree to one like Pascal. Welcomed among these eminent men, fervent christians, as they were, and great scholars, he quickly found the place due to him, which was at once that of a ready and submissive learner in theology and in ecclesiastical lore, and at the same time of a master in thought, and of a redoubtable champion toward the assailants of this band of illustrious men. There was, moreover, a special link of sympathy between him and his Port Royal friends; and this was the hostility of the Jesuits toward him and them. Quite early in his scientific course, Pascal had drawn upon himself the retentive hatreds of the "Society" on the field of mathematical debate; again at a later time he had provoked the zeal of the reverend fathers by calling in question the faith of the church concerning Nature's hatred of a vacuum; and once again the same jealousy had been stirred by Pascal's conduct in the "cycloid" controversy. But it was now as the friend and associate
