tion had wrought its perfect work in the purification of his soul. His friend M. d'Andilli came in his carriage to take him from Vincennes. No captive had ever received such demonstrations of esteem. His. guards and fellow-prisoners threw themselves at his feet, to implore his parting benediction; and they mingled tears of joy at his release, with those of sorrow for his departure. His guards especially mourned his loss; and all the garrison wishing to shew their respect, spontaneously arranged themselves in two rows to let him walk out, to the sound of fifes and drums, and discharges of musketry. It was afterwards found, that several of the prisoners, won by his piety, had taken notes of many of his actions and sayings, from which they had derived peculiar edification. On this occasion, M. Lancelot makes the following observations: "We often wished that M de St. Cyran could have had a person continually with him to note down all his actions, and to portray all his holy discourses, his eminent virtues, and even the eloquence

*

of his silence, which has so often spoken to our hearts. God, however, no doubt for wise purposes, has not permitted it. Perhaps, indeed, it might not be a thing so easily done. The most eminent graces, like the deepest rivers, generally pursue a silent course. They possess, in degree, the peace and immutability of their divine author. It is immediately felt in its effects, though it cannot be described in its source. It is that powerful and constant effusion of the Spirit of God which transforms the heart of the new man, and continually abides therein. Which does not dazzle by brilliant and remarkable actions, so much as it imparts a living unction and a Godlike dignity to the most common ones. It produces throughout the whole soul, mind, and heart, a certain simplicity, profound peace, gentle love, and immutable calmness, that charms and elevates the heart of the observer, though he scarcely knows why. He is filled with awful reverence in contemplating the whole, whilst he is yet unable to discover any thing extraordinary in each part. As to its

effects, the perfection of saints on earth is, perhaps, more perceptible in what they do not, than in what they actually do.

So far as it may be said of man in his fallen state, it consists in a perfect silence of all human passions, and in a total extinction of every movement of earthly pleasures and desires. The silence of the man of God differs from the tumult of the world, as the still expanse of the ocean differs, and yet exceeds, in sublimity, a roaring summer torrent, which lays waste all in its way, and disappears for ever. It consists in that spotless holiness which is best comprehended when we contrast with it our own disorder and impurity. It is a participation on earth of the happiness of the blessed in heaven. It is the beginning of that ineffable union with God, which, though begun on earth, can only be consummated in heaven. Happy, indeed, are those to whom it has pleased the Lord to exhibit such models of virtue. "Yea, rather more blessed are those, that hearing, keep their sayings!"

A few months after his release, M. de St.

Cyran was seized with apoplexy. He was at the same time reduced by the effects of a surgical operation. Owing to the unskilfulness of some of his attendants, his sufferings were extreme. Yet no unkind

reflection escaped his lips. What the Lord has permitted, we must receive with the same submission, observed he, as what he has appointed, blessed be the name of the Lord. In the intervals, between the lethargy and high delirium, from which he alternately suffered, he spoke much to the edification and comfort of the few friends whom the sudden nature of his illness had permitted to be sent for. After a few hours' illness, he expired in perfect peace, in the arms of his assistant and friend M. Singlin. He died on the 11th of October, 1643. He was aged sixty-two.*

His disciples thus portray his character. It appears colored by the warmth of Christian love, and yet painted with the most exact Christian truth. It is inserted, notwithstanding its length, on account of the useful instruction it conveys. "M. de St. Cyran was

By his followers, M. de St. Cyran was reverenced as a saint. Numbers of persons crowded to see his corpse, and to preserve

a saint indeed. It had pleased God to bestow upon him a rich assemblage of those qualities which are generally met with separately. Though called to the sacred function of the priesthood by men, he was yet, sanctified for it by a large measure of the Holy Spirit of God; and he appeared truly fitted to the rank of those chosen servants, whom the Lord himself has called out to be as lights to the world. Of him it might eminently be said, that he offered no false fire upon the altar. His light, indeed, shone before men with a clear and steady brightness, illuminating and diffusing a vital heat in the church of God. But the flame was kindled from heaven, and its brilliancy arose from the fervor of his love, even more than from the superiority of his understanding. Unde ardet unde lucet. He drew every sentiment and every principle from the inexhaustible and rich mine of Scripture. Nor did he merely hear much, and read much of Scripture, but, above all, he prayed much, and meditated much over it. Diligently comparing scripture with scripture, his mind became enlightened with divine truth; and meditating and praying over every part, his heart became kindled with divine love. He studied each passage till he clearly understood its sense; he dwelt upon each till he was thoroughly penetrated by its force. He thought