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YALE UNIVERSITY
Xibrarg of the ©toimtji School
GIFT OF
Douglas Qlgde JWacintosh
DWIGHT PROFESSOR OF THEOLOGY
DWIGHT PROFESSOR OF THEOLOGY AND |
PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION
1916-1942
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YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

THE LIBRARY OF THE
DIVINITY SCHOOL

LIFE

MADAME DE LA MOTHE GUYON.

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LIFE
RELIGIOUS OPINIONS AND EXPERIENCE
OK
MADAME DE LA MOTHE GUYON

TOGETHER WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF THE PERSONAL HISTOHY
AND RELIGIOUS OPINIONS

FENELON, ARCHBISHOP OF CAMBRAY.

BY THOMAS C. UPHAM,
1 1 »
ntOFBSSOR OP NJSKTAT. AHD MOIlAl PHILOSOPHY IN BOWDOIW COLTJ5CK.

EDITED AND REVISED BY
AN ENGLISH CLERGYMAN.

SECOND EDITION.
LONDON:
SAMPSON LOW, SON, AND CO., 47, LUDGATE HILL.
EDINBURGH : THOMAS CONSTABLE ANIWSe:
MBCCCLVI.

G-933
Xop3-t

ED1NDUBGH : T. CONST All LB, I'll ISTJiU TO 11 K JI M A J I BT V.

EDITOR'S PREFACE.

If few readers will agree with every sentiment recorded in
these pages, yet it will not be too much to expect that every one
should admire the fervent zeal, marked and steady consistency,
as well as leading and striking ability of the subject of them.
Madame Guyon must claim our sympathy in her sufferings, and
if in any age it could be said that the world was not worthy of
her, especially it would be so in that of Louis XIV. The few
dazzling lights in that dark age serve to exhibit its dense dark
ness. A depraved Court, with intense profession of religion ; a
dissolute and extravagant nobility, with a beguiled and besotted
populace ; military glory sought abroad, while at home La Belle
France saw the same soldiery striking their swords into the hearts
of the freest and most faithful citizens, and thus staining every
honour in the detestable butchery of the Bragonnades ; dishonour
at last drooping its withering blight over every promising field ;
every energy and every sin ; every profession and every vice ;
such preachers as have perhaps since the apostles' days never
been surpassed for impassioned vehemence and power of oratory,
and yet crowds unrepentant, as if to show that man's heart can
not be softened but by the Holy Spirit's influences ; narrowness
and profusion ; little-mindedness and vaulting ambition, — all
these, amongst many others, were traits that marked the age in
which lived, and preached, and suffered, and died Madame
Guyon. To have done what she did, against all hindrances of
malice, disappointment, and power, is enough to prove her to

VI EDITOR S PREFACE.
have possessed ability of the highest order ; and to have done
these deeds as she did them, shows that the root of the matter
was in her. The friend of Fenelon, like him she was persecuted
for the truth's sake. Having really too much light for a dis
ciple in the Eoman Church, yet she had not strength to escape
from it, and found her tomb in it. That Church can fairly claim
no glory from Fenelon an# Pascal, and Arnauld and Madame
Guyon. These are enough to show us that great light may exist
in great darkness, and great love in an atmosphere of internal
chilliness. Louis XIV. and his abettors, Popes and Bishops,
were more right in discerning the tendency of such views than
those who held them. They were essentially antagonistic to
Komanism, and must have developed more and more into divi
sion. So far as Fenelon and Madame Guyon diverged from re
ceived Komanism, they were Protestants, and as such, Louis XIV.
and Bossuet condemned them. The only credit which the Church
of Kome can claim from her Jansenist members, is that of having
persecuted them. Madame Guyon was a martyr to their clear
and quick-sighted hatred of the truth. And, if we mistake not,
from the life before us, among many fruitful lessons, this may be
learned, that while it is no slight toil to attain truth in such a
system, yet it is possible ; and therefore while the sound Protestant
rejoices in his own privileges and clearer light, he will pray for
such as are feeling after tho truth, shackled by the trammels of
corrupt authority. As God had a people in the dark days before
our Beformation, for we are not severed from the early Church
by an abyss of centuries, but are connected with them by the
lines of essential truth, so now He may have and has a people
working in chains and thraldom of mind, while the soul enlight
ened is free. With these remarks the Life of Madame Guyon,
revised so as to leave its entirety uninjured, and may-be, more
acceptably useful, is commended to the Christian reader. What
she was in spite of great impediments, let every Christian strive
to be with his great advantages.

PREFACE.
I had read the life and writings of Madame Guyon with
interest, and I think with profit. The impression was similar
to that made upon the minds of others, that her history and her
opinions are too valuable to be lost. They make a portion, not
only of ecclesiastical history, but of the history of the human
mind. Under these circumstances, and in the hope of contri
buting something to the cause of truth and of vital religion, I
have undertaken the present work.
In giving some account of Madame Guyon's life, I have made
great use of her Autobiography. The origin of this remarkable
work, entitled in French, in which language alone it has been
printed in full, La Vie de Madame de la Mothe Guyon, e'crite
par elle-meme, was this. After her return from Italy in 1686,
La Combe, her spiritual Director, in accordance with the autho
rity allowed him by his Church, an authority to which she
readily submitted, required her to make a written record of her
past life. This she did for the most part, when she was shut
up, a year or two afterwards, in the Convent of St. Marie in
Paris. She proposed to make a selection of incidents ; but
La Combe, fearful that the delicacy of her feelings might prompt
her to multiply omissions, required her to write everything.
To this she at last consented, especially as she did not, and
could not well suppose, that a Biography, written under such
circumstances, would ever be given to the public.

vm preface.
To the information derived from her Autobiography, I have
added numerous facts, derived from her other writings, and other
sources. So that I speak with considerable confidence when I
say, that the reader will find, in the following pages, a full
account of the life and labours of this remarkable woman.
The latter portion of the work is occupied, in a considerable
degree, with the acquaintance which was formed in the latter
part of her life between Madame Guyon and Fenelon, Arch
bishop of Cambray ; with the influence which was exerted by
her over that truly distinguished man ; with the religious opi
nions which were formed and promulgated under that influence,
and with the painful results which he experienced in conse
quence. The discussions in this part of the work turn chiefly
upon the doctrine of pure or unselfish love, in the experience of
which Fenelon thought, in accordance with the views of Madame
Guyon, and it seems to me with a good deal of reason, that the
sanctification of the heart essentially consists. It is true, that
they insist strongly upon the subjection of the will ; but they
maintain, as they very well may maintain, that such a love will
certainly carry the will with it.
The work is committed to the reader, not without a sense of
its imperfections, but still in the hopes that something has been
done to illustrate character, and to confirm the truth.
THOMAS C. UPHAM.

LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
OF
MADAME GUYON.

CHAPTEE I.
Time and place of her btrth — Her parentage— Sickness In her infancy— Her residence at
tho Ursuline Seminary at Montargis — Duchess Montbason— Residence at the Benedictine
Seminary — A dream — Early religious impressions — Singular experiment on the strength
of her faith — Unfavourable results — Taken home — Treatment received there.
The subject of this Memoir was born the I3th of April 1648,
and baptized on the 24th of May. Her father's name was
Claude Bouvieres de la Mothe. The place of her birth was
Montargis, a French town of some note, situated about fifty
miles to the south of Paris, in the part of France known previ
ously to the French Eevolution as the province of Orleanois.
Of her parents we know but little. They were very worthy
people, holding a highly honourable position among the leading
families of Montargis, and both of them, especially the father,
were deeply impressed with religious sentiments. Her father
bore the title of Seigneur or Lord de la Mothe Vergonville.
Her father and mother had both been previously married ; and
both had children previous to their second marriage. The father
had a son and daughter ; the mother had a daughter. The sub
ject of this Memoir, whose remarkable personal and religious
history has made' her an object of interest to succeeding ages,
was the offspring of this second marriage. Her maiden name
was Jeanne Mario Bonvieres de la Mothe.
In very early infancy she was so afflicted, that her life was for

2 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
some time despaired of. To this period she refers in after life,
with feelings which her religious experience was naturally cal
culated to inspire. Her life had its vicissitudes, its trials, its
deep sorrows ; but in view of the sanctification which had at
tended them, she was deeply thankful that God hud boon pleased
to spare her. " It is owing," she says, " to thy goodness, 0 God,
that there now remains to me the consolation of having sought
and followed thee ; of having laid myself upon the altar of
sacrifice in the strength of pure love ; of having laboured for
thine interests and glory. In the commencement of my earthly
existence, death and life seemed to combat together; but life
proved victorious over death. Oh, might I but hope, that, in
the conclusion of my being here on earth, life will be for ever
victorious over death ! Doubtless it will be so, if thou alone
dost live in me, 0 my God, who art at present my only life, my
only love."
In the city of Montargis, where her father resided, was a
seminary for the instruction of young girls, under the care of
the Ursuline Nuns, a sisterhood of religious persons, who bind
themselves, in addition to other vows, to occupy themselves in
the education of children of their own sex. At the age of two
years and a half, she was placed at the Ursuline Seminary, but
remained there only for a short time. When she was taken
from it she remained for a time at the residence of her parents ;
but for some reason not clearly understood, but probably in part
from an imperfect view of the value of parental influence, was
left by her mother chiefly in the care of the domestics of the
family. In after life she refers to this period as one in which
her mental and moral culture, such as she was even then capa
ble of receiving, was not properly attended to. She speaks of
it also as a period in which she incurred, in repeated instances,
those dangers, from which she sometimes narrowly escaped,
which are incidental to the sports and to the thoughtless and
venturesome spirit of childhood. But God, who had designs
of mercy for her soul, and through her instrumentality for the
souls of others, protected her.

OF MADAME GUYON. 3
In the year 1652, a lady of distinguished rank, the Duchess
of Monthason, came to reside with the Benedictines, another
religious body established at Montargis. The daughter of M.
De la Mothe was then four years of age. At the solicitation of
the Duchess, an intimate friend of her father, who said it would
be a source of great satisfaction to her to have the company of
his little daughter, she was placed with the Benedictines.
" Here I saw," she says, in the account of her life which she
afterwards wrote, " none but good examples ; and as I was
naturally disposed to yield to the influence of such examples, I
followed them when I found nobody to turn me in another direc
tion. Young as I was, I loved to hear of God, to be at church,
and to be dressed in the habit of a little nun."
While resident here, though early in life, she appears to have
been the subject of some religious impressions. She speaks in
particular of a dream, in which she seemed to have a very dis
tinct conception of the ultimate misery of impenitent sinners, as
making a deep impression on her mind. Aroused by the images
of terror, and operated upon by other circumstances calculated
to awaken her religious sensibilities, she became very thought
ful, and exhibited a considerable interest in religious things.
She was too young to appreciate fully the relation existing be
tween herself and the Deity ; but the idea of God was so far
developed to her opening but vigorous conceptions, that she in
wardly and deeply recognised His claims to her homage and her
love. She endeavoured to conform to these convictions, not
only by doing whatever seemed to be the will of God, but by
openly and frankly expressing her determination to lead a reli?
gious life. Happy in these solemn views and determinations,
she one day, with a frankness perhaps greater than her prudence,
remarked in the presence of her associates, that she was ready to
become a martyr for God. The girls who resided with her at
the Benedictines, not altogether pleased that one so young should
go so far before them in a course so honourable, and supposing
perhaps that they discovered some ingredients of human pride
mingling with religious sincerity, came to the conclusion to test

4 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
such enlarged pretensions. They persuaded her that God in His
providences had suddenly but really called her to the endurance
of that martyrdom for which she had exhibited and professed a
mind bo fully prepared. They found her true to what she had
previously professed. And having permitted her to offer up her
private supplications, they conducted her to a room selected for
the purpose, with all those circumstances of deliberateness and
solemnity, which were appropriate to so marked an occasion.
They spread a cloth upon the floor, upon which she was required
to kneel, and which was destined to receive her blood. One of
the older girls then appeared in the character ofcan executioner,
and lifted a large cutlass, with the apparent intention of separating
her head from her body. At this critical moment, overcome by
her fears, which were stronger than her young faith, Bhe cried
out, that she was not at liberty to die without the consent of her
father. The girls, in the spirit of triumph, declared that it was
a mere excuse to escape what was prepared for her. And assur
ing her that God would not accept as a martyr one who had not
a martyr's spirit, they insultingly let her go.
This transaction, so cruel in its application, although it pro
bably originated in thoughtlessness more than unkindness, had
a marked effect upon her mind. Young as she was, she was old
enough to perceive, that she had not only been open but volun
tary in her professions ; that she had been tried, and been found
wanting. Those religious consolations, which she had previously
experienced, departed. Something in her conscience reproached
her, that she either wanted courage or faith, to act and to suffer,
under all circumstances and without any reserve, in the cause
of her heavenly Father. It seemed to her, in the agitation of
her spirit, that she had offended Him, and that there was now
but little hope of His support and favour. Thus, as in many
other similar cases, the religious tendency, unkindly crushed in
the very bud of its promise, withered and died.
During her residence at the House of the Benedictines, she
was treated with groat kindness. In one instance only was she
the subject of punishment, and this in consequence of the mis-

OF MADAME GUYON.

apprehension, or the designed misstatement of her young asso
ciates. Her health, however, was exceedingly delicate; and
soon after she was taken home in consequence. She complains
that she was again left almost exclusively in the care of domes
tics ; and consequently did not meet with that attention to her
morals and manners, which was desirable. Certain it is, as a
general statement, that domestics cannot discharge, in behalf of
young children, all those duties which may reasonably and justly
be expected of parents. It might be unjust, however, even where
appearances are unfavourable, to ascribe to parents intentional
neglect, without a full knowledge of all the circumstances.

CHAPTER II.
Placed a second time at the Ursuline Seminary— Character and kindness of her paternal
half-sister — Interview with Henrietta Maria, the Queen of England, at her father's house
Explanations of this interview — References to her moral and religious feelings — Trans
ferred from the care of tho Ursulines to that of the Dominicans — A Bible left in her
room — Her study of it — Proposes to partake of the Eucharist — Remarks,
#
Each of her parents had a daughter in their first marriage.
These, acting on the principles of personal consecration recog
nised in the Roman Catholic Church, had devoted themselves to
a religious life in the Ursuline Convent, and thus became asso
ciated in its system of instruction. After spending some time
at home in a manner not very profitable, Mademoiselle Jeanne
Marie was once more placed at the Ursulines with them. She
was now in the seventh year of her age. The father, sensible
that her education had hitherto failed to receive sufficient atten
tion, commended her to the especial care of his own daughter,
as the best qualified of the two half-sisters, by kindness of dispo
sition as well as in other respects, to aid in the development of
her mind and formation of her manners. As she recalled with
gratitude the dealings of God with her in her younger years,
she spoke in affectionate terms of this sister, as a person" cha-

b LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
racterized alike by good judgment and religious sentiments, and
especially fitted to train up young girls.
" This good sister," she says, "employed her time in instruct
ing me in piety, and in such branches of learning as were suit
able to my age and capacity. She was possessed of good talents,
which she improved well. She spent much time in prayer, and
her faith seemed strong and pure. She denied herself every
other satisfaction, in order that she might be with me, and give
me instruction.. So great was her affection for me, that she ex
perienced, as she told me herself, more pleasure with me, than
anywhere else. Certain it is, that she thought herself well paid
for her efforts, whenever I made suitable answers. Under her
care I soon became mistress of most of those things which were
suitable for me."
At this period an incident occurred, which requires some ex
planation. The period of which we are now speaking was sub
sequent to the great Civil War in England, which resulted in
the death of Charles I., the establishment of a new government,
and the expulsion of the royal family. Charles had married
Henrietta Maria, the daughter of Henry IV., and sister of Louis
XIII. of France. She fleo\ from England to her own country in
1644 ; residing for the most part, in sorrow and poverty, in the
Convent of Chaillot, at that time a village in the neighbourhood
of Paris, but now a part of the city itself. She died in 1669 ;
and her death furnished occasion for one of the most celebrated
of the funeral orations of Bossuet.
Some years after her flight she visited Montargis ; and as the
family of M. De la Mothe held a high rank in that city, and
especially as there were probably some common grounds of reli
gious sympathy, it will not be surprising that Henrietta Maria
should have honoured them with a visit. While she was at the
Seminary of the Ursulines, she was frequently sent for by her
father. On one of these occasions she found at her father's
house the Queen of England. She was then near eight years of
age. " My father told the Queen's Confessor, that, if he wanted
a little amusement, he might entertain himself with me, and

OF MADAME GUYON. 7
propound some questions to me. He tried me with several very
difficult ones, to which I returned such correct answers, that he
carried me to the Queen, and said to her, ' Your Majesty must
have some diversion with this child.' She also tried me, and
was so well satisfied and pleased with my lively answers and
my manners, that she not only requested my father to place me
with her, but urged her proposition with no small importunity,
assuring him that she would take particular care of me, and
going so far as to intimate, that she would make me Maid of
Honour to the princess, her daughter. Her desire for me was
so great, that the refusal of my father evidently disobliged her.
Doubtless it was God who caused this refusal, and in doing so
turned off tho stroke which might have probably intercepted my
salvation. Weak as I then was, how could I have withstood
the temptations and distractions incidental to a connexion with
persons so high in rank ?"
Her paternal half-sister continued her affectionate care, but
her authority was limited ; she could not control, in all respects,
the other girls who boarded there, with whom the younger
sister, Jeanne Marie, was sometimes obliged to associate, and
from whom she acknowledges that she contracted some bad
habits. She ceased to be entirely strict and scrupulous as to
the truth ; she became in some degree peevish in her temper,
and careless and undevout in her religious feelings, passing
whole days without thinking of God. But happily she did not
remain long under the power of such vicious tendencies and
habits. Her sister's unwearied watchfulness and assiduity were
the means, with the Divine blessing, of recovering her from this
temporary declension. And she remained at the Seminary some
time longer, always making rapid improvement when in the
enjoyment of good health, and conciliating the esteem of her
associates and instructors, by her regular and virtuous deport
ment, and by proficiency in knowledge.
At ten years of age she was taken home again; she was
placed at the Dominican convent, probably the same of which
De la Force gives so particular an account in his Work, entitled

8 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Nouvelle Description de la France. It was founded in 1242.
" I stayed," she says, " only a little while at home. The reason
was this : A nun of the Dominican Order, who belonged to a
distinguished family, and an intimate friend of my father, soli
cited him to place me in her convent, of which she was Prioress.
This lady had conceived a great affection for me ; and promised
my father that she would take care of me herself, and make me
lodge in her own chamber. But various troubles arose in the
religious community which necessarily occupied her attention,
so that she was not in a situation to take much care of me."
Her opportunities for intellectual improvement, during her
residence in the Dominican convent, were interrupted in some
degree by sickness ; but with a mind of naturally enlarged
capacity, which seemed to have an instinct for knowledge, she
could hardly fail to improve. At this place she was left more
by herself than had been customary with her. But her soli
tary hours were not unprofitable ones. One circumstance is
worthy of particular notice. The pupils of the convent, al
though they received religious instruction in other ways, do not
appear to have been in possession of the Bible, and to have
had the use of it in private. A Bible, however, had been pro
videntially left, by whose instrumentality, or from what motive,
is unknown, in the chamber which was assigned to Mademoiselle
De la Mothe. Young as she was, she seems to have had a
heart to appreciate, in some degree, the value of this heaven-sent
gift. " i" spent whole days," she says, " in reading it, giving no
attention to other books or other subjects from morning to night ;
and having great powers of recollection, I committed to memory
the historical parts entirely." It is highly probable that these
solitary perusals of the Bible had an influence on her mind
through life, not only in enlarging its sphere of thought and
activity, but by teaching her to look to God alone for direction,
and by laying deep and broad the foundations of that piety
which she subsequently experienced.
She remained at this convent eight months. When she
entered upon the twelfth year of her age, she proposed to partake

OF MADAME GUYON. 9
of the sacrament of the Eucharist. For some time previous she
had been remiss in religious duties. Some jealousies and dis-
affections, as is not unfrequently the case, had sprung up among
the younger members of her father's family. A feeling of dis
satisfaction and melancholy seems to have entered her mind ;
and, as if weary of God, she gave up what little religious in
clination and feeling she had, saying, " she was none the better
for it," and wickedly implying in the remark, that the troubles
connected with religion exceeded the benefits resulting from it.
It would not be correct to say that she had given up religion,
but rather many favourable feelings and outward practices
connected with religion. Although she had been interested in
religion, it does not appear that she possessed those qualities
which really constitute it. Prompted, partly by example, and
partly by serious impressions, she had sought it, but had not
found it. Her religious interest varied at different times. At >
one time, in particular, it seems to have been very great. She
seems to have had convictions of sin, some desires to live in
God's guidance and favour ; she formed good resolutions ; she
had a degree of inward consolation. But when we examine
these experiences closely, we shall find that such desires, con
victions, and resolutions, which often lay near the surface of the
mind without stirring very much its inward depths, were, in her
case at least, the incidents and preparatives of religion, rather
than religion itself. The great inward Teacher, the Holy Ghost,
had not as yet subdued the natural life, and given a new life in
Christ. She herself intimates, that her religion was chiefly
in appearance, and that self, and not the love of God, was at
the bottom.
The suggestion to partake of the sacrament of the Supper,
and thus by an outward act at least, to array herself more dis
tinctly on the Lord's side, seems to have originated with her
father. In order to bring about what he had near at heart, he
placed her again at the Ursuline Seminary. Her paternal half-
sister, who appears to have had some increased and leading
responsibility as an instructress, pleased with the suggestion,

10 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
but at the same time aware of her unfortunate state of mind,
laboured assiduously to give rise to better inward dispositions.
The labours of this patient and affectionate sister, who knew
what it was both to believe and to pray, and for whom religion
seems to have had a charm above everything else, were bo
effectual, that Jeanne Marie now thought, as she expresses it,
" of giving herself to God in good earnest." The day at length
arrived ; she felt that the occasion was too important to be
trifled with ; she made an outward confession of her sins, with
apparent sincerity and devoutness, and partook of the sacra
mental element for the first time with a considerable degree of
satisfaction. But the result showed that the heart was not
reached. The season and its solemnity passed away, without
leaving an effectual impression. The sleeping passions were
again awaked. " My faults and failings," she says, " were soon
repeated, and drew me off from the care and the duties of reli
gion." She grew tall ; her features began to develop themselves
into that beauty which afterwards distinguished her. Her
mother, pleased with her appearance, indulged her in dress.
The combined power of her personal and mental attractions
were felt in the young and unreflecting attachments of persons
of the other sex. The world resumed its influence, and Christ
was in a great degree forgotten.
Such are the changes which often take place in the early his
tory of religious experience. To-day there are serious thoughts,
awakened and quickened feelings, and good resolutions ; every-!
thing wears a propitious aspect. To-morrow, purposes are
abandoned, feelings vanish ; and the reality of the world takes
the place of the anticipations of religion. To-day the hearts
of mothers and sisters, and of other friends, who have laboured
long and prayed earnestly for the salvation of those who are
dear to them, are cheered and gladdened. To-morrow they
find the solicitations to pleasure prevailing over the exhortations
to virtue ; and those who had been serious and humble for a
time, returning again to the world. But often these alterna
tions of feeling, which it is not easy always to explain, have an

OF MADAME GUYON. 11
important connexion, under the administration of a higher and
Divine providence, with the most favourable results.
They may, in many cases, be regarded as constituting a
necessary part of that inward training, which the soul must pass
through, before it reaches the position of true submission and
of permanent love. They show us the great strength of that
attachment which binds us to attractions which perish, the
things of time and sense. They leave a deep impression of the
forbearance and long-suffering of God. They teach the neces
sity of the special and powerful operations of Divine grace,
without which the heart, naturally alienated from all attach
ment to the true object of its love, would perish in its worldly
idolatry.

CHAPTER III.
Visit from her cousin De Toissi, Missionary to Cochin China — Results of this visit — Re1
newed religious efforts — Endeavours to obtain salvation by works rather than by faith —
Return of spiritual declension — Account which she gives of her own feelings and conduct
at this time — Remarks.
About this time the Roman Catholic Church of France, de
sirous to spread abroad the Christian religion, was enlarging -its
missions in the East. Among the individuals who engaged in
this benevolent work, was a nephew of M. De la Mothe. His
name was De Toissi, of whom some account is given in the
History of Foreign Missions, Relation des Missions Etrangeres,
under the name of De Chamesson. This young man, with one
of the French bishops, the titular bishop of Heliopolis, had com
menced his journey to the place of his labours in Cochin China ;
and in passing through Montargis, had called at the residence
of his uncle. His visit was short ; but as he was about to leave
his. native land perhaps for ever, and on business too that was
infinitely dear to humanity and religion, it was full of interest.
He was one of those who could say in the sweet language of

12 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
the subject of this Memoir, when in after life she suffered in
prison and in exile, " My country. Lord, art thou alone ;
No other can I claim or own ;
The point, where all my wishes meet, —
My Law, my Love, life's only sweet."
" I happened," she says, " at that time to be gone walking
with my companions, which I seldom did. At my return he
was gone. They gave me an account of his sanctity, and of the
things he had said. I was so touched with it, that I was over
come with sorrow. I cried all the rest of the day and of the
night." This was one of those incidents in the Providence of God,
which come home to the heart. How often has the mere sight
of a truly pious man brought the hardened sinner under convic
tion 1 How often have those who have been unmoved by the
most eloquent religious appeals, been deeply affected by the
most simple and unpretending words, when uttered under cir
cumstances favourable to such a result. When she heard the
statement of the deep and devoted piety of her cousin De Toissi,
her thoughts, from contrast rather than resemblance, naturally
reverted to herself. She remembered how often God had called
her ; and how often she had listened without obeying, or had
obeyed without persevering. " What ! " she exclaimed to her
confessor and religious teacher, " am I the only person in our
family to be lost ! Alas I help me in my salvation." Her
whole soul was roused to a sense of her situation. She recalled
with deep compunction her repeated seasons of seriousness and
religious inquiry, and of subsequent declension. "Alas!" she
exclaimed, " what grief I now sustained for having displeased
God ! What regrets 1 What exclamations ! What tears of
sorrow I" Once more she applied herself to her soul's salvation,
apparently with great sincerity and earnestness ; but without
being able to find the simple way of acceptance by faith. She
resisted her passions, which were liable to be strongly moved,
with considerable success. She asked the forgiveness of those

OF MADAME GUYON. 13
whom she had displeased. Appreciating, in some degree, the
relation between religion and practical benevolence, 6he visited
the poor, gave them food and clothing, and taught them the
catechism. She spent much time in private reading and pray
ing. She purchased and read some of the practical and devo
tional books which were most highly valued among her people,
such as the Life of Madame de Chantal and the works of St.
Francis de Sales. She inscribed the name of the Saviour in
large characters upon a piece of paper ; and so attached it to
her person as to be continually reminded of Him. With an
erroneous notion of expiating sin by her own Buffering, she sub
jected herself to various bodily austerities. Determining to
leave nothing undone, she made a vow, in imitation of Madame
de Chantal, of ever aiming at the highest perfection, and of
doing the will of God in everything. This was an important
resolution, which would have been followed by the happiest
consequences, if it had not been made in her own strength, and
in ignorance of the great renovating principle, that all true
strength is derived from God through Christ by faith. Among
other things, she came to the resolution, if Providence should
permit, to enter a convent, and in the apparent hopelessness of
aid from any other source, to secure her spiritual interests and
her salvation by becoming a nun. This part of her plan, which
showed the depth of her feeling, was frustrated by her father,
who was tenderly attached to her, and, while he was earnestly
desirous that his daughter might become truly religious, be
lieved that she might possess religion without separating from
her family, and without an entire seclusion from the world.
The Lord of Life, no doubt, beheld and sympathized in the,
anxiety which she felt, and in the efforts she made. God is not
indifferent to those who strive to enter in. He numbers all their
tears ; He registers all their resolves. How can it be otherwise ?
If the state of mind be that of true striving after God, He him
self has inspired it. He sometimes permits those whom He
determines eventually to bless, to strive long, and perhaps to
wander in erroneous ways. But they will ultimately understand

14 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
much better than they otherwise would have done, the direction
and the issue of the true path. They have a lesson to learn
which cannot well be dispensed with ; and God therefore is
willing that they should learn it. What that lesson is, it is not
always easy to say, in individual cases. Perhaps the remains of
self-confidence exist within them, which can be removed only by
the experience of the sorrows which are attendant upon the
errors it invariably commits. And accordingly God leaves them
to test the value of human wisdom. They try it ; they fall into
mistakes ; they are overwhelmed with confusion ; and then, and
not till then, they see the necessity of reposing all their confi
dence in Him who alone can guide them in safety.
Mademoiselle De la Mothe continued in this state of mind
about a year. What led to the termination of religious prospects
so flattering, it is difficult to state. There is some reason for
thinking, however, that the love of God, not far from this time,
began to be disturbed by the accession and influence of a love
which was more mixed and earthly in its origin. She relates
that her father with his family left the city of Montargis, in
order to spend some days in the country ; and that he took with
him a very accomplished young gentleman — a near relation.
This young man, of whom she speaks in high terms for his re
ligious sentiments, as well as his intellectual and other accom
plishments, became much attached to her. She was still only
in her fourteenth year. This individual, notwithstanding her
immature age, made propositions of marriage. And this, after
a suitable time, would probably have been the result, with the
cordial consent of all parties, but their relationship was so near
as to bring them within the degrees of consanguinity prohibited
in the Roman Catholic Church. This obstacle could have been
removed by a dispensation from the Papal See ; but still it was
so serious that her father did not think it proper to give his con
sent. Still they were mutually pleased, and spent much time
in each other's company. At this time she says, significantly
and penitently, that she " began to seek in the creature what
she had previously found in God."

OF MADAME GUYON. 15
She says, " I left off prayer. I became as a vineyard exposed
to pillage, whose hedges, torn down, gave liberty to all the crea
tures to ravage it. I began to seek in the creature what I had
found in God. And thou, 0 my God 1 didst leave me to my?
self, because I left thee first, and wast pleased, in permitting me
to sink into the horrible pit, to make me see and feel the neces
sity of maintaining a state of continual watchfulness and com
munion with thyself. Thou hast taught thy people, that thou
wilt destroy those who, by indulging wrongly-placed affections,
depart from thee. (Ps. lxxiii. 27.) Alas 1 their departure alone
causes their destruction ; since in departing from thee, the Sun
of Righteousness, they enter into the region of darkness and the
shadow of death. And there, bereft of all true strength, they
will remain. It is not possible that they should ever rise again,
unless thou shalt revisit them ; unless thou shalt restore them
to light and life, by illuminating their darkness, and by melting
their icy hearts. Thou didst leave me to myself, because I left
thee first. But such was thy goodness, that it seemed to tne,
that thou didst leave me with regret."
" I readily gave way," she says, " to sallies of passion. I
failed in being strictly conscientious and careful in the utterance
of the truth. I became not only vain, but corrupt in heart.
Although I kept up some outward religious appearances, reli
gion itself, as a matter of inward experience, had become to me
a matter of indifference. I spent much time, both day and night,
in reading romances, those strange inventions to destroy youth.
I was proud of my personal appearance, so much so, that, con
trary to my former practices, I began to pass a good deal of my
time before the mirror. I found so much pleasure in viewing
myself in it, that I thought others were in the right, who prac
tised the same. Instead of making use of this exterior, which
God gave me as a means of loving Him more, it became to me
the unhappy source of a vain and sinful self-complacency. All
seemed to me to look beautiful in my person ; but, in my declen
sion and darkness, I did not then perceive that the outward
beauty covered a sinful and fallen soul."

16 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
But this was not the judgment then passed upon her by the
world, — so severe in the exaction of its own claims, but so indul
gent in mitigating the claims of God. Under a form outwardly
beautiful, and veiled by manners that had received the most cor
rect and advantageous culture, it was not easy for man to per
ceive the elements and workings of a heart which harboured
moral and religious rebellion. In the eye of the world, incapable
of penetrating beyond the exterior, which delights in elegance
of form and perfection of manners, there was but little to blame,
and much to praise ; but in the eye of God it was not possible
for outward beauty to furnish a compensation for inward defor
mity. And in using the phrase inward deformity, we do not
mean that she was worse than many others who have a reputa
tion for good morals. Estimating her by the world's standard,
she had her good qualities as well as those of an opposite charac
ter — her excellences as well as her defects. Nevertheless, there
was that wanting which constitutes the soul's true light — without
which all other beauty fades, and all other excellence is but
excellence in name — the love of God in the heart.

CHAPTER IV.
Removal from Montargis to Paris — Louis XIV. — Characteristics of the age — Effect of her
removal to Paris upon her character — Her personal appearance at this period — Offers of
marriage — Is married to M. Guyon in March 1664 — Notices of the family of M. Guyon.
In the year 1663, M. De la Mothe removed his family to
Paris, — a step obviously not calculated to benefit his daughter
in a religious sense. Paris was at that time, as now, the centre
of scientific culture and the arts, of refinement of manners and
of fashionable gaiety. Louis XIV. was then the reigning sove
reign of France — a man of considerable powers of intellect, and
of great energy of will — in whom two leading desires predomin
ated — the one to make France great, the other to make himself
the source and centre of her greatness. The greatness of France^

OF MADAME GUYON. 17
sustained and illustrated in the wisdom and splendour of her
great monarch, was the central and powerful element of his sys
tem of action. Hence the expense and labour bestowed upon
the royal palaces, and all the great public works of a national
character ; hence his vast efforts to enrich and beautify Versailles,
his principal residence ; hence his desire to attach to his person
and court the most distinguished of his nobles. His munificence
to men of literature, his patronage of the arts, the pomp and
ceremony which characterized all great public occasions, all
sprung from the same source.*
All France, and particularly Paris, felt an influence so well
adapted to harmonize with the tendencies of the human heart.
It was an age characterized by many noble efforts in literature
and the arts, and equally by unfounded pretensions, vanity, and
voluptuousness. Almost everything, especially in the capital,
was calculated to dispossess humility, and to impart an exagge
rated turn of mind. The sights and sounds, the displays of
wealth, in every street ; the crowded populace, intoxicated with
the celebrity of their sovereign and of their nation ; the vulgar
and the fashionable amusements without en,d ; all were calculated
to divert the mind from serious reflection — to lead it to sym
pathize with the senses, and to dissociate it from its own inward
centre ; a state of things which would have been a severe trial
even to established piety.
This state of things had an unfavourable effect upon Made
moiselle De la Mothe ; and she intimates, in the record of her
feelings, that she began to entertain exaggerated ideas of herself,
and that her vanity increased. Her parents, as well as herself,
led astray by the new state of society ill which they found them*
selves, spared no cost in obtaining whatever might make her
appear to advantage. The world, illuminated with false lights
to her young vision, seemed to be in reality what it was chiefly
in appearance, and consequently presented itself as an object
worth conquering and possessing. At this period she gave to it>
more warmly and unreservedly than at any other, that kindling
* Thirty six thousand labourers were employed at Versailles at one time.
B

18 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
heart and expanded intellect, which she afterwards gave to reli
gion. She was tall and well-made in her person ; refined and
prepossessing in her manners, and possessed of remarkable
powers of conversation. Her countenance, formed upon the
Grecian model, and characterized by a brilliant eye and expan
sive forehead, had in it a natural majesty, which impressed the
beholder with a sentiment of deep respect, while it attracted by
its sweetness. Her great powers of mind (a mind which in the
language of one of the writers of the French Encyclopedie was
formed for the world, "fait pour le monde") added to the im
pression which she made on her entrance into Parisian society.
Under these circumstances her future husband, M. Jacques
Guyon, a man of great wealth, sought her in marriage. He
was not the only person whose attention was directed to her.
" .{Several apparently advantageous offers of marriage," she says,
" were made for me ; but God, unwilling to have me lost, did
not permit them to succeed." In accordance with the custom
of the time and country, (a custom oftentimes but little pro
pitious to those who are most deeply concerned,) the arrange
ments in this important business were made by her father and
her suitor with but little regard to her opinions and feelings.
She did not see her designated husband till a few days before
her marriage ; and then she did not find her affections united to
him. She gives us distinctly to understand in her Autobio
graphy, that there wore other individuals who sought her, with
whom she could have more fully sympathized, and could have
been more happy. But a regard for the opinions of her father,
in whom she had the greatest confidence, (although in this case
he Beems to have been influenced too much by the great wealth
of M. Guyon,) overruled every other consideration. She signed
the articles of marriage, without being permitted to know what
they were, on the 28th of January 1664, but was not married
till the 21st of March. She had then nearly completed her six
teenth year. Her husband was thirty-eight.
Of the family of her husband we know but little. His father.
a man of activity and talent, acquired considerable celebrity'SbY

OF MADAME GUYON. 19
completing the Canal of Briare, which connects the Loire with
the Seine. This great work (the more remarkable for being the
first important one of the kind undertaken in France) was com
menced in the reign of Henry IV., under the auspices of his
distinguished minister, the Duke of Sully. After the death of
Henry, and the retirement of Sully from the administration of
affairs, the work was suspended till 1638, when Louis XIII.
made arrangements, on liberal terms, with two individuals,
Messrs. Jacques Guyon and another individual named Bouteroue,
to complete it. Guyon, entirely successful in an undertaking
beset with difficulties, was not only brought into public notice,
but became very wealthy. He was also rewarded with a patent
of nobility at the hands of Cardinal Richelieu, the then leading
minister. His wealth, as well as an honourable and noble
position in society, seems to have been inherited by his only
son, to whom Mademoiselle De la Mothe was thus united in
marriage*

CHAPTER V.
Remarks on her marriage — Treatment she experienced at her husband's house — Unkindnes s
of her mother-in-law — The great incompatibleness of her situation and her character—
Her situation considered in its relation to the designs of Providence— Her account of the
trials she endured.
In this union, great wealth and noble rank did not compen
sate for diversity of disposition and great disparity of age. It
could hardly be expected that Madame Guyon, with all her ad
vantages of beauty, talent, and honourable position in society,
could be entirely satisfied, at sixteen years of age, with a hus
band twenty-two years older than herself, whom she had Been
but three days before her marriage, who had obtained her
through the principle of filial obedience, rather than through
warm and voluntary affection.
" No sooner," she says, " was I at the house of my husband
than I perceived it would be for me a house of mourning. In

20 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
my father's house every attention had been paid to my manners.
In order to cultivate propriety of speech and command of lan
guage, I had been encouraged to speak freely on the various
questions which were started in our family circle. There every
thing was characterized by elegance. But in the house of my
husband, his mother, who had long been a widow, regarded no
thing else but saving. The elegance of my father's house, which
I regarded as the result of polite dispositions, they sneered at as
pride. In my father's house whatever I said was listened to
with attention, and often with applause ; but here, if I had occa
sion to speak, I was listened to only to be contradicted and
reproved. If I spoke well, they said I was endeavouring to give
them a lesson in good speaking. If I uttered my opinions on
any subject of discussion, I was charged with desiring to enter
into a dispute ; and instead of being applauded, I was simply
told to hold my tongue, and scolded from morning till night.
I was very much surprised at this change, and the more so as
the vain dreams of my youth anticipated an increase, rather
than a diminution of the happiness and consideration which I
had enjoyed."
She was placed by her marriage in a wrong position — a posi
tion untrue to the structure of her mind and unfavourable to her
happiness. Nothing else could have been expected from an
arrangement in which so little regard had been paid to the
mutual relations of the parties, in respect to years, early habits,
and mental qualities. When considerable unhappiness is ex
perienced in married life, it naturally implies a very considerable
diversity in the relative situation and in the character of the
parties. But this is not always the case. Sometimes a little
diversity in views and a little want of correspondence and sym
pathy in feelings, furnishing occasion for an irritation which is
not great but constant, may be the means of very seriously irn-
bittering life. The mind of Madame Guyon was not in harmony
with her situation. Other persons, it is true, with less experi
ence of past domestic happiness, and with less talent and refine
ment, might, perhaps, have reconciled themselves to the situation,

OF MADAME GUYON. 21
and have regarded it as in many respects a desirable one. Her
husband was not without some good qualities. What his per
sonal appearance was, we have no record. But it is obvious,
that he secured a degree of respect in the circle in which he
moved ; and he had a degree of affection for his wife, which,
under favourable circumstances, might have increased, and .have
rendered their union happy. But his good feelings were per
verted by his physical infirmities and sufferings, and by the
influence of his mother, — a woman without education, and ap
parently possessed of but little liberality of natural feeling, —
who retained in old age, and in the season of her wealth, the
habits of labour and of penurious prudence formed in her youth.
His ill health rendered it necessary for him to keep a woman as
a nurse, who, by her assiduity and skill in seasons of sickness
and suffering, had gained a considerable control over his mind.
This woman sympathized with the mother-in-law, and contri
buted all in her power to render the situation of the young wife,
now in the bloom of youth and in the fulness of her fresh and
warm affections, as unpleasant as possible.
Madame Guyon was both mentally and morally out of her
true position. The individuals into whose immediate society
she was introduced were characterized by a want of intellect
and scientific and literary culture, which was not compensated
either by moral and religious excellencies, or by the virtues of
the heart. They not only did not appreciate her, but practi
cally, if not always intentionally, set themselves against her.
They were not only blind to her merits, but rude to her sympa
thies and hopes, and negligent of her happiness. Certainly this
was not the situation for a woman of great intellect aDd great
sensibility ; a woman who was subsequently admitted into the-
most distinguished circles in France ; a woman who honourably
sustained a controversy with the learning and genius of Bossuet,
and gave a strong and controlling impulse to the mind of
Fenelon ; a woman, whose moral and religious influence was
such, that Louis XIV., in his solicitude for the extirpation of
what he deemed heresy, thought it necessary to imprison her for

22 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
i years in the Bastile and the prison of Vincennes ; who wrote
poems in her imprisonment, which Cowper thought it no dishon
our to translate ; and one who has exerted an influence which
has never ceased to be felt, either in Europe or in America.
But there she was, and she felt and knew that her earthly
hopes were blasted. But she did not then perceive, what she
afterwards knew, that God placed her there in His providence,
as He made Joseph a slave in Egypt, "for her good." God had
i formed her for Himself. He loved her too much to permit her
to remain long in harmony with a world which, in its vanity
and its corruption, He could not love. He knew what was re
quisite in order to accomplish His own work ; He knew under
what providences the natural life would retain its ascendency,
and the soul would be lost ; and under what providences grace
would be rendered effectual, and the soul would be saved. Such
¦ are the relations between mind and place, that no man ever is
what he is, independently of his situation. Tho mind has no
. power of acting in entire separation from the relations it sus
tains ; it knows nothing where there are no objects to be
known ; loves nothing where there are no objects to be loved ;
does nothing where there is nothing to be done. Its powers of
perception, its capabilities of affectionate or malevolent feeling,
its resources of " volitional " or voluntary determination, develop
their strength and moral character in connexion with the occasions
which call them forth. Let any man read the Life of St. Augus-
1 tine, particularly in connexion with what he has himself said in
his Confessions, or the Life of Francis Xavier, of Archbishop
Leighton, of George Fox, of Baxter, of Wesley, of Brainerd, of
Henry Martyn — and then say, if different circumstances (a si tua-
; tion, for instance, comparatively exempt from temptation and
toil) would have developed the same men, the 6ame strength of
purpose, the same faith in God, the same purity of life. In the
religious life we are the creatures, not only of grace, but of
' position, or more strictly and truly, of grace acting by position.
This doctrine throws light and beauty over the broad field of
God's providences, and shows us why many have pasBed to glory

OF MADAME GUYON, 23
through great tribulation. Tribulation was necessary to bring !
them, if not to the true life of God in the first instance* to that
fulness and brightness of the inward life which they have expe
rienced. So that those, who grow in grace by suffering, may do
well to remember, that probably nothing but seasons of trial
would have fitted them for the reception and effectual action of
that grace which is their consolation and their hope.
This view Madame Guyon subsequently took of the subject i
— she saw that everything had been ordered in mercy. In her !
Life she says, " I should have some difficulty in writing these
things to you, which cannot be done without apparently giving
offence to charity, if you had not required me to give a full
account, without omitting anything. But there is one thing
which I feel it a duty to request ; and that is, that in these
things we must endeavour to behold the hand of God, and not
look at them merely on the side of the creature. I would not
give any exaggerated idea of the defects of those persons by
whom God had permitted me to be afflicted. My mother-in-law
was not destitute of moral principles ; my husband appeared to
have some religious sentiments, and certainly was not addicted
to open vices. It is necessary to look at everything on the side
of God, who permitted these things only because they were con
nected with my salvation, and because He would not have me
perish. Such was the strength of my natural pride, that nothing
but some dispensation of sorrow would have broken down my
spirit, and turned me to God." And again, — "Thou hastj
ordered these things, 0 my God, for my salvation 1 In good
ness thou hast afflicted me. Enlightened by the result, I have
since clearly seen that these dealings of thy providence were ne
cessary, in order to make me die to my vain and haughty nature.
I had not power in myself to extirpate the evils within me. Iti
was thy providence that subdued them."*
Her statement of some of her trials I shall endeavour to give
in a very abridged form, adjusting anew in some cases the ar
rangement of the facts. — " The great fault of my mother-in-law,
* La Vie de Madame Guyon, Part I., cb. 6.

24 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
who was not without sense and merit, was, that she possessed an
ungovernable self-will. This trait was extraordinary in her ; it
had never been surmounted in her youth, and had become so
much a fixed, inflexible trait of her character, that she could
scarcely live with anybody. From the beginning she had con
ceived a strong aversion to me, so much so, that she compelled
me to do the most humiliating things. I was made the constant
victim of her humours. Her great occupation was to thwart me
continually ; and she had the art and the cruelty to inspire my
husband with the like unfavourable sentiments.'
" For instance, in situations where it was proper to have some
regard to rank or station in life, they would make persons who
were far below me in that respect take precedence of me, — a
thing which was often very trying to my feelings, and especially
so on account of my mother, who was very tenacious of what was
due to honourable station in life, and who, when she heard of it
from other persons (for I was careful not to say anything about
it myself), rebuked me for want of spirit in not being able to
maintain my rank. Another source of unhappiness was the dis
position to prevent my visiting my father's family. My parents
complained that I came to see them so seldom, little knowing
the obstacles I had to encounter. I never went to see them
without having some bitter speeches at my return. My mother-
in-law, knowing how tenderly I felt on that point, found means
to upbraid me in regard to my family, and spoke to me in
cessantly to the disadvantage of my father and mother.
" The place assigned for my residence in my husband's house,
was the room which properly belonged to my mother-in-law. I had
no place into which I could retire as my own ; and if it had been
otherwise, I could not have remained alone in it for any length
of time without offence. Kept thus continually in her presence,
she took the opportunity to cast unkind reflections upon me be
fore many persons who came to see us ; and to complete my
affliction, the person chosen to act as nurse to my husband
entered into all the plans of those who persecuted me. She kept
me in sight like a governess, and treated me in a very singular

OF MADAME GUYON. 25
manner, considering the relations actually existing between us.
For the most part I bore with patience these evils, which I had
no way to avoid ; but sometimes I let some hasty answer escapeV
me, which was to me a source of grievous crosses and violent
reproaches for a long time together ; and when I was permitted
to go out of doors, my absence added but little to my liberty.
The footman had orders to give an account of everything I did ;
and what contributed to aggravate my afflictions, was the re
membrance of my former situation, and of what I might have
enjoyed under other circumstances. I could not easily forget the
persons who had sought my affections, dwelling by contrast on
their agreeable manners, on the love they had for me, and on
the dispositions they manifested. All this made my situation
very gloomy, and my burden intolerable.
" It was then I'began to eat the bread of sorrow, and mingle
my drink with tears. But my tears, which I could not forbear
shedding, only furnished new occasion for attack and reproach.
In regard to my husband, I ought perhaps to say, that it was
not from any natural cruelty that he treated me as he did. He
seems to have had a real affection for me, but being naturally
hasty in his temper, his mother found the art of continually
irritating him against me. Certain it is, that when I was sick,
be was very much afflicted. Had it not been for his mother and
the waiting-maid, we might have lived happily together.
" As it was, my condition was every way deplorable. My
mother-in-law secured her object. My proud spirit broke under
her system of coercion. Married to a person of rank and wealth,
I found myself a slave in my own dwelling, rather than a free
person. This treatment so impaired the vivacity of my nature,
that I became dumb like ' the lamb that is shearing.' The ex
pression of thought and feeling, which was natural to me, faded
from my countenance. Terror took possession of my mind. I
lost all power of resistance. Under the rod of my despotic mis
tress, I sat dumb and almost idiotic. Those who had heard of
me, but had never seen me before, said one to another, ' Is this
the person who sits thus silent like a piece of statuary, that was

26 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
famed for such an abundance of wit?' I looked in various
directions for help, but I found no one with whom I could com
municate my unhappiness, — no one who might share my grief,
and help me to bear it. To have made known my feelings and
trials to my parents, would only have occasioned new crosses.
I was alone and helpless in my grief."

CHAPTER VI.
Her trials result in a renewed disposition to seek God — Of the connexion of Providential
events with the renewal of the heart — The birth of her first child, and its effect upon her
mind — Losses of property — Experience of severe sickness — Death of her paternal half-
sister nt Montargis, and of her mother at Paris — Result of these afflictions upon her mind
— Renewed efforts of a religious nature — Her reading — Her interviews at her father's
house with au exiled lady of great piety — Remarks— Her interviews with her cousin,
M. De Toissi, Missionary to Cochin China — Her conversation with a Religious of the
Order of St. Francis — ner convention.
Such are the expressions which convey to us her sense of her
trials. In this extremity, it occurred to her (alas 1 that we learn
this lesson so often from sorrows alone) that, in the deficiency of
all hope in creatures, there might be hope and help in God. It
is true that she had turned away from Him ; and having sought
for solace where she had not found it, and where she ought not
to have sought it, she felt ashamed to go back. But borne down
by the burdens of a hidden Providence (a Providence which she
did not then love because she did not then understand it), she
yielded to the pressure upon her, and began to look to Him in
whom alone there is true assistance.
She had now been married about a year. A number of things
occurred about this time worthy of notice, and tend to illustrate
the operations of grace in connexion with the position in which
we are placed in Providence. If it is not strictly true that God
' saves us by His providences — a remark which is sometimes
made — I think we may regard it as essentially true that He
: saves us by His grace, dispensed and operating in connexion

OF MADAME GUYON. 27
with His providences. Providences test the disposition of the|
mind ; they not only test it, but alter it and control it to some
extent, and may be the means of placing it in a position thei
most favourable for the reception of inward Divine teaching.
One circumstance, which was calculated to have a favourable
effect upon the mind of Madame Guyon, was the birth of her
first child. God was pleased to give her a son, to whom she
gave the name of Armand Jacques Guyon. This event, appeal
ing so strongly to family sympathies, was naturally calculated to
interest and soften the feelings of those who had afflicted her.
And this was the case. But this was not all. It brought with
it such new relations ; it opened such new views of employment
and happiness, and imposed such increased responsibilities, that
it could hardly fail to strengthen the renewed religious tendency
which had already begun to develop itself. Under the responsi
bility of a new life added to her own, she began to realize that,
if it were possible for her not to need God for herself, she must
need Him for her child.
God, in His dispensations, mingled judgments and mercies.
Another circumstance, was the loss of a part of the property of
the family. The revenues, accruing to the family from the
Canal of Briare, completed by her husband's father, were very
great. Louis XIV., whose wars and domestic expenditures re
quired large sums of money, took from them a part of this in
come. The family, besides their usual place of residence in the
country, had a valuable house in Paris, in connexion with which
also a considerable sum of money was lost at this time. If the
birth of a son tended to conciliate and to make things easy, the
loss of property had a contrary effect. Her mother-in-law, who
seems to have been an avaricious woman, was inconsolable at
these losses ; which, in the perversity of her mind, she made the
occasion of new injuries and insults to her daughter-in-law, say
ing with great bitterness, that the family had been free from
afflictions till she came among them, and that all their troubles
and losses came with her.
Another circumstance, was a severe sickness in the second

28 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
year of her marriage. The situation of her husband's affairs
was such as to require his constant presence in Paris. After
much opposition of her mother-in-law, she obtained her consent
for a time to reside there with him, but not until she had called
in the aid of her father, who insisted upon it. She went to the
H&tel de Longueville, where her husband stayed. She was re
ceived with every demonstration of kindness from Madame De
Longueville, and from the inmates of the house ; and there were
many things, notwithstanding the generally unpleasant position
of her domestic relations, which tended to render her residence
in the city agreeable. Here she fell sick, and the prospect was
that she would soon die. So far as the world was concerned,
she felt that it had lost, in a great degree, its attractions, and
she was willing to go. The priest who attended her, mistaking
a spirit of deadness to the world, originating in part from her
inability to enjoy it, for a true spirit of acquiescence in God's
dispensations, thought well of her state. She seemed to him to
be truly religious. But this was not her own opinion. She
had merely begun to turn her eye, as it were, in the right direc
tion. " My sins were too present to my mind," she says, " and
too painful to my heart, to permit me to indulge in a favourable
opinion as to my acceptance with God. This sickness was of
great benefit to me. Besides teaching me patience under violent
pains, it served to give newer and more correct views of the
emptiness of worldly things. It had the tendency to detach me
in 6ome degree from self, and gave me new courage to suffer
with more resignation than I had ever done."
But this was not all. Death had begun to make inroads in
her family circle. Her paternal half-sister, at the Ursuline
Convent, died two months before her marriage. She seems to
have been a woman gentle in spirit and strong in faith, who
lived in the world as not of the world ; and died in the beauty
and simplicity of Christian peace. The loss of a sister, so de
servedly esteemed and loved by Madame Guyon, could not pos
sibly be experienced without making the earth less dear, and
heaven more precious. In the second year of her marriage, she

OF MADAME GUYON. 29
experienced the separation of another strong tie to earth, by the J
loss of her mother. " My mother departed this life," she re
marks, " in great tranquillity of spirit, having, besides other
virtues, been in particular very charitable to the poor. God,
who seems to have regarded with favour her benevolent disposi
tion, was pleased to reward her, even in this life, with such a
spirit of resignation, that, though she was but twenty-four hours
sick, she was made perfectly easy about everything that was
near and dear to her in this world."
It is easy to see, in the light of these various dispensations,
that God, who builds His bow of promise in the cloud, had
marked her for His own. He had followed her long, and warned
her often. He Btopped her pathway to the world ; but He left
it open to heaven. He drew around her the cords of His pro
vidence closely, that she might be separated, in heart and in
life, from those unsatisfying objects which, in her early days,
presented to her so many attractions. It was God who was
present in all these events ; and, through an instrumentality of
His own selection, was laying His hand painfully but effectually
upon the idols which she had inwardly cherished, sometimes
trying her by mercies, where mercy might affect her heart, but
still more frequently and effectually by the sterner discipline of
outward disappointment and inward anguish.
Not in vain, He who understands the nature of the human
heart, and the difficulty of subjecting it, thus adjusted every
thing in great wisdom, as well as in real kindness. The trials
which He had sent were among those which work out " the
peaceable fruits of righteousness." By these various provi
dences, afflicting as they were, she was led to the determination
(a determination from this time never abandoned), once more to
seek God. She had sought Him before, but she had not found
Him. But, in turning from God to the world, she had found
that which gave no satisfaction. Bitterly had she learned, tbatj
if there is not rest in God, there is rest nowhere. Again, there-;
fore, she formed the religious resolve — a resolve which God
enabled her not only to form, but to keep. Her feelings at this

'30 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
time are well expressed in a well-known hymn, which is de
signed to describe the state of a sinner who has seen the fallacy
and the unsatisfying nature of all situations and hopes out of
Christ. " Perhaps He will admit my plea ; "I can but perish if I go ;
PerhapB will hear my prayer ; I am reBolved to try ;
But if I perish, I will pray, For if I stay away, I know
And perish only there. I must for ever die."
Fully determined to seek God, in all time to come, she
adopted those measures which seemed to her best. They show
her sense of need and her deep sincerity ; but they indicate also
how difficult it is for the natural heart, especially under certain
systems of religious belief and practice, to detach itself from its
own methods and supposed merits, and in true simplicity of
spirit to follow Him who is " the way, the truth, and the life."
Although they were in some sense only preparatory, they had a
connexion with the great lesson which she was destined ulti
mately to learn. Among other things which seemed to be
necessary in her present state, she ceased to give that attention
to her outward appearance which she had done formerly. Fear
ful that she might either excite or increase emotions of vanity,
she diminished very much the time occupied at the mirror. In
addition, she commenced doing something for the religious
benefit of the servants of the family. She likewise began a
process of inward examination, often performing it very strictly,
writing down her faults from week to week, and comparing the
record at different periods, to see whether she had corrected
them, and to what extent. The Sabbath was a day strictly
observed, and the place of worship was not only regularly visited,
but was attended with some beneficial results. She made such
progress in certain respects, that she began to see and appreciate,
much more correctly than at any former period, the defects of
her character and life, and to feel sentiments of sincere compunc
tion. She laid aside all reading incompatible with her present
position, and confined her attention chiefly to the most devout
works. One of these books, which, notwithstanding its Roman

OF MADAME GUYON. 3l
Catholic origin, is much esteemed among Protestants, was the
celebrated Imitation of Christ, by Thomas-a-Kempis — a work
widely read among devout people of all denominations of Chris
tians. Under a simple and unpretending exterior, corresponding
in this respect with the humble spirit of its author, whoever he
may have been, it contains the highest principles of Christian
experience. Some of the works of Francis de Sales also, which
she had read at an early period of her life, were consulted by
her at this time with great interest.
God, in His benevolence, was pleased to add other instru
mentalities. During her visit to Paris, and at other times, she
had opportunities of being at her father's house. After the death
of her mother, her respect and affection for her father seemed
especially to require it. She there became acquainted with a
lady, whom she speaks of as being an exile — very possibly some
person driven from England by the civil wars. This exiled
lady game to her father's house in a state of destitution ; and
he offered her an apartment, which she accepted for a long time.
Instructed in the vanities of the world by the trials she had
experienced, she had sought and had found the consolations of
religion, and loving God, " worshipped Him in spirit and in
truth." Her gratitude to M. De la Mothe was naturally shown
in acts of kindness to his daughter, Madame Guyon. And these
favourable dispositions were increased by her talents, her beauty,
and sorrows ; and still more by what she noticed of her sincere
and earnest desire to know more, and experience more, of the
things of religion.
Madame Guyon eagerly embraced this opportunity of reli-,
gious conversation ; and from this pious friend thus raised up
by Providence to instruct her, she seems to have received the
first distinct intimations, that she was erroneously seeking reli
gion by a system of works without faith. This devout lady
remarked, on her various exterior works of charity, that she had
the virtues of " an active life," that is to say, the virtues of
outward activity, of outward doing, but that she had not the
" truth and simplicity of the life within." In other words, that

32 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
her trust was in herself rather than in God, although she might
not be fully aware of it. But Madame Guyon says significantly,
" My time had not yet come ; I did not understand her. Living
in the Christian spirit, she served me more by her example than
by her words. God was in her life. I could not help observ
ing on her countenance something which indicated a great enjoy
ment of God's presence. I thought it an object to try to be like
her outwardly — to exhibit that exterior aspect of Divine resigna
tion and peace, which is characteristic of true inward piety. I
made much effort, but it was all to little purpose. I wanted to
obtain, by efforts made in my own strength, that which could
be obtained only by ceasing from all such efforts, and trusting
wholly in God."
In narrating these various providential dispensations and
instrumentalities, we cannot avoid noticing how much it costs
to bring a soul to the knowledge of God. This recital does not
present anything peculiarly new ; — anything which does not
occur in many other cases. The human mind is 60 wedded to
its natural pervevseness, that it is not brought into harmony
with God at once. Even those conversions, which appear to be
especially prompt and sudden, have in many cases been preceded
by a long preparatory training, which is not the less real, be
cause it has been unseen and unknown. Generally speaking,
we see efforts frequently renewed, resolves made and broken,
alternations of penitential tears and of worldly joys, advice and
warning received to-day and rejected to-morrow, and very fre
quently a long series of disappointments and sorrows, before the
mind is so humbled as to renounce its earthly hopes, and to
possess all things in God by becoming nothing in itself. But
this state of things, which so frequently happens, and is really
so afflicting, teaches us the lesson of patience and of hope. Tears
may have been wiped away, and resolutions broken ; yet those
tears, which seemed in vain, and those resolutions which seemed
worse than in vain, may have been important and even indis
pensable links in the chain of providential occurrences. We
repeat, therefore, that conversions long delayed, although cal-

OF MADAME GUYON. 33
culated to try and to purify our patience, ought not to ex-
tingtjsh our hope. " In due season we shall reap, if we faint
not." Another individual had a share in that series of providences
which God saw to be necessary. This was M. De Toissi, the
nephew of M. De la Mothe. He had been to Cochin China,
and after an absence of about four years, had returned on busi
ness connected with the mission. He visited the house of M. De
la Mothe, where his cousin, Madame Guyon, was exceedingly
glad to see him. She knew his character. She remembered
what was said of his conversation and appearance when he
visited her father's house. In her state of mind, groping about
in solitude and desolation of spirit, she eagerly sought conver
sations with pious persons. This pious cousin, impelled by
natural affection as well as by a regard for the interests of reli
gion, did all that he could to encourage her in her search after
God. Other things gave him an increased interest in the case,
such as her personal accomplishments, her great talents, the
wealth of her family, her position in society, and her compara
tive youth — circumstances particularly adverse to the humble
and pure spirit of religion. And it was not easy for one to see
the possessor of them seeking religion, with a full determination
to be satisfied with nothing else, without feeling a deep interest
in the result. Madame Guyon very freely and ingenuously
stated her views of her inward state to her cousin — the faults of
her character, her iriward sense of her alienation from God, her>
efforts and discouragements. He expressed the deepest interest
in her case. He prayed for her, and gave such advice as he
• was able. With earnest exhortations he cheered her onward,
not doubting that God's wisdom and goodness would bring all
well in the end.
These interviews had an encouraging effect. He was in a
state of inward and continual communion with God ; that state
.of mind, probably, which, in accordance with the nomenclature
' of the higher experimental writers, she variously denominates,
in her religious works, _ as. the state of "Recollection," or of

34 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
" Recollection in God." This state of continual prayer affected
her much, although unable at that time to understand its nature.
She also noticed, with interest and profit, the conversation be
tween him and the exiled lady resident at her father's house.
As is the case with all truly pious persons, they seemed to under
stand each other's hearts. " They conversed together," she
says, " in a spiritual language." They had that to speak of,
which souls unconverted can never know, — a Saviour, sins for
given, and joy and peace in believing.
The example and the exhortations of De Toissi could not
fail to make a deep impression. Many were the tears she shed
when he departed. She renewed her solemn resolutions. She
endeavoured to imitate him in his state of continual prayer, by
offering up to God ejaculations, either silent or spoken, moment
by moment. On the system of mere human effort, she seems to
have done all that she could do. But still she did not under
stand; a cloud hung over one of the brightest intellects when
left to itself — so perplexing to human wisdom, and so adverse to
the natural heart is the way of forgiveness and justification by
¦ faith alone. Those know it who experience it, and those only ;
, but her hour had not yet come. More than a year had passed
' in this state of mind, and with such efforts — but apparently in
vain. With all the appliances mentioned, with afflictions on the
one hand to separate her from earthly objects, and encourage
ments on the other to allure her to heaven, she still seems to
have remained without God and without hope in the world. So
much does it cost, in a fallen world like this, to detach a soul
from its bondage and to bring it to God I God has not only
spread the feast, in the salvation which He has offered through
His Son, but, by means of ministers, both providential and
personal, He goes out into the highways, and compels them to
come in.
i God was pleased to send one more messenger. " Oh, my
Father 1 " says Madame Guyon, in connexion with the incidents
, we are about to relate, " it seems to me sometimes, as if thou
i didst forget every other being, in order to think only of my

OF MADAME GUYON. 35
faithless and ungrateful heart." There was a devout man of the
Religious Order of St. Francis— his name is not given — who spent
five years in solitude, for spiritual renovation and communion
with God. With a heart subdued to the world's attractions, and
yet inflamed for the world's good, he went out into the field
of labour. He thought that God called him to labour for the
conversion of a person of some distinction, in the vicinity of M.
De la Mothe. But his labours there proved fruitless — or rather,
resulted only in the trial of his own faith and patience. The
humble Franciscan, revolving in his mind where he should next
go and announce the Divine message, was led by the inward
monitor, in connexion with the indications of Providence, to go
to the house of M. De la Mothe, witli whom he seems to have
had some acquaintance in former times. M. De la Mothe, a man
in whom the religious tendency was strong, was exceedingly
glad to see him, and to receive his instructions, especially as he
was then out of health, and had not much expectation of living
long. His daughter, Madame Guyon, desirous of rendering him
every assistance in his increasing infirmities, was then at her
father's house, although her own health was very infirm. Her
father was not ignorant either of her outward or inward trials.
She had conversed with him with entire frankness on her reli
gious state and the exercises of her mind, her dissatisfaction with
her present spiritual condition, and her earnest desire to avail
herself of every favourable opportunity to receive religious in
struction. Her father, influenced by the representations she
made, as well as by his high sense of the piety and religious
wisdom of the Franciscan, not only advised but strongly urged
her to consult with him.
Attended by a kinswoman, as seemed to be proper, she visited
the Franciscan, and stated her conviction of her need of religion,
and her often-repeated and long-continued efforts made without
effect. When she had done speaking, the Franciscan remained
silent for Bome time, in inward meditation and prayer. He at
length said : " Your efforts have been unsuccessful, Madame, be
cause you have sought without, what you can only find within.

36 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
j Accustom yourself to seek God in your heart, and you will not
[fail to find Him."
It is very probable that she had heard a similar sentiment be-
. fore ; but if so, it came to her as religious truth always does
come to those in their natural state, who are permitted to hear,
before grace has enabled them to understand. But now the
' hour of God's providence and of special mercy had arrived.
Clearly and strongly did the Divine Spirit apply a truth which
otherwise would have fallen useless to the ground. These few
words, somewhat singular in expression, obviously convey the
great principle, that religion does not aud cannot consist in out
ward working — in a mere round of ceremonial duties — in any
thing which comes exclusively under the denomination of an
'. external action. But, on the contrary, it is inward in the sense
of having its seat in the heart's affections, and in accordance
with the great scriptural doctrine, that the "just shall live by
faith." From the moment that Madame Guyon heard these
words, she was enabled to see the error Bhe had committed, —
that of endeavouring to obtain God by a system of outward
operations, — by the mercenary purchase of formal services,
rather than by the natural and Divine attraction of accordant
sympathies. Speculatively, there may be a God objective, a
God outward, a God recognised by the intellect as a great and
majestic Being living in the distance. And in certain respects
this is a view of God which is not at variance with the truth.
Hut still God can never be known to us as our God, He can
never be brought into harmony with our nature, except as a
God inward, a God received by faith and made one with us by
love, and having His home in the sanctified temple of the heart.
" Believe in the Lord your God ; so shall ye be established.
i Believe his prophets ; so shall ye prosper " (2 Chron. xx. 20).
" Having said these words," she says, " the Franciscan left
" me. They were to me like the stroke of a dart which pierced
my heart asunder. I felt at this instant deeply wounded with
the love of God ; — a wound so delightful, that I desired it
never might be healed. These words brought into my heart

OF MADAME GUYON. 37
what I had been seeking so many years ; or rather they made |
me discover what was there, which I did not enjoy for want of
knowing it. Oh, my Lord 1 thou wast in my heart, and de- I
manded only the turning of my mind inward, to make me feel ' ('
thy presence. Oh, infinite Goodness I thou wast so near, and
I ran hither and thither seeking thee, and yet found thee not.
My life was a burden to me, and my happiness was within my
self. I was poor in the midst of riches, and ready to perish with
hunger near a table plentifully spread and a continual feast. Oh ,
Beauty, ancient and new 1 Why have I known thee so late ?
Alas, I sought thee where thou wast not, and did not seek thee
where thou wast 1 It was for want of understanding these
words of thy Gospel : ' The kingdom of God cometh not with
observation, neither shall they say, Lo, here ! or lo, there I for
behold, the kingdom of God is within you.' This I now experi
enced, since thou didst become my King, and my heart thy king-'
dom, where thou dost reign a Sovereign, and dost all thy will.
" I told this good man, that I did not know what he had done
to me ; that my heart was quite changed ; that God was there ;
for from that moment He had given me an experience of His
presence in my soul, — not merely as an object intellectually
perceived, but as a thing really possessed after the sweetest
manner. I experienced those words in the Canticles : ' Thy
name is as precious ointment poured forth ; therefore do the
virgins love thee.' For I felt in my soul an unction, which
healed in a moment all my wounds. I slept not all that night,
because thy love, 0 my God 1 flowed in me like delicious oil,
and burned as a fire which was going to destroy all that was
left of self in an instant. I was all on a Sudden so altered, that
I was hardly to be known either by myself or others. I found
no more those troublesome faults, or that reluctance to duty,
which formerly characterized me. They all disappeared, as
being consumed like chaff in a great fire.
" I now became desirous that the instrument hereof might
become my Director,* in preference to any other. This good
* Dibbctob —The office of Director and the office of Confessor, sometimes exist in the

38 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
father, however, could not readily resolve to charge himself with
my conduct, though he saw so surprising a change effected by
the hand of God. Several reasons induced him to excuse him
self: first, my person, then my youth, for I was only twenty
years of age ; and lastly, a promise he had made to God, from
a distrust of himself, never to take upon himself the direction
of any of our sex, unless God, by some particular providence,
should charge him therewith. Upon my earnest and repeated
request to him to become my Director, he said he would pray
to God thereupon, and bade me do so too. As he was at prayer,
it was said to him, ' Fear not that charge ; she is my spouse.'
This, when I heard it, affected me greatly. ' What I ' (said I
to myself,) ' a frightful monster of iniquity, who have done bo
much to offend my God, in abusing His favours, and requiting
them with ingratitude, — and now, thus to be declared His
spouse ! ' After this he consented to my request.
I " Nothing was more easy to me now than to practise prayer.
i Hours passed away like moments, while I could hardly do any
thing else but pray. The fervency of my love allowed me no
intermission. It was a prayer of rejoicing and of possession,
wherein the taste of God was so great, so pure, unblended and
uninterrupted, that it drew and absorbed the powers of the soul
into a profound recollection, a state of confiding and affectionate
rest in God, existing without intellectual effort. For I had now
no sight but of Jesus Christ alone. All else was excluded, in
order to love with greater purity and energy, without any mo-
, tives or reasons for loving which were of a selfish nature."
Such are the expressions in which she speaks of the remark
able change which thus passed upon her spirit, — an event which
opened new views, originated new feelings, instituted new rela
tions, and gave new strength. Too important in itself and its
relations to be forgotten under any circumstances, we find her
often recurring to it with those confiding, affectionate, and
same person, and the terms appear in some instances to be used as Bynonymous with each
other. Strictly speaking, however, it is not the business of the Director to hear confessions,
but simply to give religious counsel, in those various circumstances in which Christians,
especially in the beginning of the religious life, are found to need it.

OF MADAME GUYON. 39
grateful sentiments, which it was naturally calculated to inspire.
One of her poems, which Oowper has translated, expresses well
the feelings which we may suppose to have existed in her at this
time. LOVE AND GRATITUDE,
" All are indebted much to thee, " Spirit of Charity ! Dispense
But I far more than all ; Thy grace to every heart ;
From many a deadly snare set free, Expel all other spirits thence ;
And raised from many a fall. Drive self from every part.
Overwhelm me from above, Charity divine ! Draw nigh ;
Daily with thy boundless love. Break the chains in which we lie.
" What bonds of gratitude I feel, " All selfish souls, whate'er they feign, '
No language can declare ; Have still a slavish lot:
Beneath the oppressive weight I reel, Thoy boast of liberty in vain,
'Tis more than I can bear ; Of love, and feel it not.
When shall I that blessing prove, He, whose bosom glows with thee,
To return thee love for love ? He, and he alone, is free.
, " 0 blessedness all bliss above,
When thy pure fires prevail \
Love* only teaches tthat is love ,¦
All other lessons fail ;
We learn its name, but not its powers,
Experience only makes it ours."

CHAPTEE VII.
Remarks on intellectual experience, in distinction from that of the heart — Of that form of
experience which Is characterized by joy — Her experience characterized especially by the
subjection of the will — Of tbe course to be pursued in translating from the writings of
Madame Guyon — Her remarks on the union of tbe human with the Divine will — Her
remarks on faith — Conversation with a Franciscan — Immersion of her soul in God, and
her contemplation of all things in Him.
Madame Guyon, recognising an important distinction, re-:
garded the change at this period as not merely an intellectual1
illumination, but as truly a change of the heart. Undoubtedly!
she had received new light. She had been led to see the ex
treme perversity and blindness of the natural mind. She had
now a clearer perception both of what God is, and of what He
requires ; and especially of the way of forgiveness and salvation
* God is Love, 1 John iv. 8.

40 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
by faith in Christ alone. But perception is not love. The
righting of the understanding is not necessarily identical with
the rectification of the sensibilities. The understanding, en
lightened of God, will sometimes dictate what the heart, in its
opposition to God, will be slow to follow. This was not her
, case. Her understanding was not only enlightened, but her
heart was renewed.
No sound was heard but that of the " still small voice,"
which speaks inwardly and effectually. There was no dream,
no vision, no audible message. Her change was characterized,
not by things seen, but by operations experienced ; not by re
velations imparted from without, and known only as existing
without, but by affections inspired by the Holy Ghost from
within, and constituting, from the time of their origin, a part of
the inward consciousness.
Joy was a marked characteristic of her first experience of the
new life. But, taught by the great inward Teacher, she was
enabled to perceive from the first, that it would not be safe to
estimate either the reality or the degree of her religion by the
amount of her happiness. There is not only such a thing as joy,
j but such a thing as religious joy — in the language of the Scrip
tures, "joy in the Holy Ghost." But this is a very different
thing from saying, that joy and religion are the same thing.
( Joy is not only not religion, but it does not always arise from
religious causes. The grounds of its origin are numerous, and
sometimes very diverse. A new speculative truth, new views
at variance with the truth, or even the pleasant intimations of a
dream or vision, whether more or less remarkable, (to say no
thing of physical and providential causes, — causes connected
with the state of our health and situation in life,) may be fol
lowed by a pleasurable excitement which may be mistaken for
true religion. Certain it is, however, that no joys can be re
garded as really of a religious nature and as involving the fact
of religion, which are not attended with repentance for sin and
faith in Jesus Christ, with the renovation of the desires and the
subjection of the will. The views of Madame Guyon on this

OF MADAME GUYON. 41
subject were distinct and decided. She took the Saviour for her;
example. She did not seek joy, but God,— God first, and what1
God sees fit to give afterwards. She believed and knew, if she
gave herself to God wholly, without reserve, God would take'
care of her happiness.
The leading and decisive characteristic of her religious ex-j
perience was the subjection and loss of her own will in its union
with the Divine will. It may be expressed in a single term,
union. " As thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they
also may be one in us." On this subject, a number of her re
marks may properly be introduced here, with a few preliminary
statements. Madame Guyon's literary education, although it
compared well with that of other French ladies at that time,
was, in some respects, defective. The institutions for young
ladies, not excluding the celebrated Seminary of St. Cyr, esta
blished a few years after, did not profess, and were not able to
give, that thorough mental training which was had in the French
colleges and universities. And the greatest natural ability will
not necessarily compensate for defects in education. Her style
of writing is eloquent and impressive in a high degree, but a
criticaj eye will discover in it deficiencies, which are to be as
cribed, in part, to the cause just intimated. The theological and
experimental terms which she uses, sometimes have a specific
meaning, not unknown perhaps in some of the mystic writers, but
which can certainly be ascertained only by an intimate know
ledge of her own experience, character, and writings. Take, as
an illustration of this remark, the word "puissances," which is
literally rendered by the English word, powers ; but the latter
term gives only an indefinite idea of the sense which she attaches
to the original term. She uses it in its mental application,
meaning the mental powers, but not all of them. She distin
guishes between the will (volonte), the understanding (entende-
ment), and the puissances ; meaning generally by the latter term,
the propensive and affectional part of our nature, not excluding
the appetites ; what we sometimes denominate by the single
expression, the natural sensibilities. It would not be sufficient,

42 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
therefore, merely to translate her words by rendering them with
the words and methods of expression that formally correspond to
them. A translation of words is not necessarily a translation of
ideas. It is necessary first to ascertain what she meant, and
then to embody her ideas in such a mode of expression as will
convey to the English reader just that meaning which she her
self would have conveyed if she had used the English language
with the Anglo-Saxon mind. Her statements on the same sub
ject are often fragmentary ; broken in parts, uttered in various
and remote places of her works, and accompanied more or less
with digressions and repetitions. What I give as a translation
is, in some cases, of the nature of an interpreted translation, a
translation of the spirit rather than of the letter. A true trans
lation of what she was and of what she meant can be made in
no other way.
With these remarks, we give some of her views. " The union
between the soul and God may exist in various respects. There
may be a union of the human and the Divine perceptions.
There may be a union of the desires and affections to some ex
tent and in various particulars. But the most perfect union,
that which includes whatever is most important in the others,
is the union of the human and the Divine will. A union of the
affections, independently of that of the will, if we can suppose
such a thing, must necessarily be imperfect. When the will,
which sustains a pre-eminent and controlling relation, is in the
state of entire union with God, it necessarily brings the whole
soul into subjection ; it implies necessarily the extinction of any
selfish action, and brings the mind into harmony with itself, and
into harmony with everything else. From that moment our
powers cease to act from any private or selfish regards. They
are annihilated to self, and act only in reference to God. Nor
do they act in reference to God in their own way and from their
own impulse ; but move as they are moved upon, being gradu
ally detached from every motion of their own.
" In the presence of the light of faith, every other light neces
sarily grows dim and passes away, as the light of the moon and

OF MADAME GUYON. 43
stars gradually passes away, and is extinguished in the broader
and purer illumination of the rising sun. This light now arose
in my heart. Believing with this faith, the fountains of the
heart were opened, and I loved God with a strength of love
corresponding to the strength of faith. Love existed in the soul ;
and, throwing its influence around every other principle of ac
tion, constituted, as it were, the soul's dwelling-place. God was
there. According to the words of St. John, ' He that dwelleth
in love, dwelleth in God. God is love.' "
When the pious Franciscan, her spiritual Director, questioned
her in relation to her feelings towards God, she answered, " I
love God far more than the most affectionate lover among men
loves the object of his earthly attachment. I make this state
ment as an illustration, because it is not easy to convey my
meaning in any other way. But this comparison, if it furnishes
an approximation to the truth, fails to discover the truth itself."
" This love of God," she adds, " occupied my heart so con
stantly and strongly, that it was very difficult for me to think of
anything else. Nothing else seemed worthy of my attention.
So much was my soul absorbed in God, that my eyes and ears
seemed to close of themselves to outward objects, and to leave
the soul under the exclusive influence of the inward attraction.
My lips also were closed. Not unfrequently vocal prayer, that
form of it which deals in particulars, ceased to utter itself, be
cause my mind could not so far detach itself from this one great
object as to consider anything else. When the good Father, the
Franciscan, preached at the Magdalen Church, at which I
attended, notwithstanding the importance and interest which
attached to his religious addresses, I found it difficult, and almost
impossible, to retain any definite idea of what he said. He
preached there on three successive occasions about this time1 ;
and the result was always the same. I found that thy truth, 0
my God, springing from the original source, as if thy Divine
and eternal voice were speaking truly, yet inaudibly in the soul,
made its impression on my heart, and there had its effect, with
out the mediation of words.

44 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
" This immersion in God absorbed all things ; that is to say,
seemed to place all things in a new position relatively to God.
Formerly I had contemplated things as dissociated from God ;
but now I beheld all things in the Divine union. I could no
more separate holy creatures from God, regarded as the source
of their holiness, than I could consider the sun's rays as existing
distinct from the sun itself, and living and shining by virtue of
their own power of life. This was true of the greatest saints.
I could not see the saints, Peter, and Paul, and the Virgin Mary,
and others, as separate from God, but as being all that they are,
from Him and in Him, in oneness. I could not behold them
out of God ; but I beheld them all in Him."

CHAPTER VIII.
Of the very marked and decisive nature of her conversion — Ccnse6 to conform to the world
in her diversions and modes of dress — Birth of her second son — Ilor vlewB of providence
in connexion with her position in life — Of tbe discharge of her duly to her family and to
others — Her great kindness and charity to the poor — Her efforts for the preservation of
persons of her own sex — Her labours for the conversion of souls— Conversation with a
lady of rank — Happy results — Domestic trials — Unkindness of her stepmother and of her
maid-servant — Partial alienation of her husband's affections — Conduct of her eldest son —
Her solitary state.
Madame Guyon dates this great change as taking place on
Magdalen's day, the 22d of July 1668.* She was then a little
more than twenty years of age.
The change experienced in the transition from the life of
nature to the life of God in the soul, is very different in different
persons. In the case of Madame Guyon, slowly progressive in
its preparatory steps, it was very decisive and marked at the
time of its actually taking place. It was obviously a great crisis
in her moral and religious being — one in which the pride and
obstinacy of the natural heart were broken down, and in which,
for the first time, she became truly willing to receive Christ
alone as her hope of salvation.
* La Vie do Madame Quyon, Part I. chap. x. § S.

OF MADAME GUYON. 45
A gospel change implies the existence of a new nature, — a .
nature which has life in it ; and which, having the principle of
life in itself, puts forth the acts of life. And thus the fact, both
of its existence and of its character, is verified. The true life
always shows itself outwardly, in its appropriate time and way.
" By their fruits," says the Saviour, " ye shall know them." No
other evidence will or ought to compensate for the absence of
this. This evidence Madame Guyon gave. From the moment
that she gave herself to the Lord to be His, in the inner spirit as
well as the outward action, the language of her heart, like that
of the apostle Paul, was, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do f"
" I bade farewell for ever," she says, " to assemblies which I
had visited, to plays and diversions, dancing, unprofitable walks,
and parties of pleasure. The amusements and pleasures so
much prized and esteemed by the world, now appeared to me
dull and insipid — so much so, that I wondered how I ever could
have enjoyed them." For two years previously she had left off
the curling of her hair — a very general and favourite practice at
that time. From this time it became her object, in her dress,
modes of living, and personal habits generally, as well as interior
dispositions, to conform to the requisitions of the Inward Monitor,
the Comforter and Guide of holy souls.
Sustaining the relations of a wife, a mother, and a daughter,
and seeing now more clearly into the ways and requisitions of
Providence, she endeavoured, from higher motives and in a
better manner than ever before, to discharge the duties which
she owed to her father, husband, and children. God had been
pleased to give her another son. Her first son she frequently
names as being made, through the perverting influence of her
stepmother, a son of trial and sorrow. The second son, who
gave better promise both for himself and others, was born in
1667. We have scarcely anything recorded of him, except the
few painful incidents of his early death. These new relations
furnished opportunities of duty and occasions of trial, which
ceased from this time, at least in a great degree, to be met in
the strength of worldly motives, or by the acts of worldly wis-

46 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
dom. God, in whom alone she felt she could trust, became her
wisdom and strength, as well as her consolation.
We may truly say, whatever allowance it may be necessary
to make for human infirmity, that God was her portion. She
could say with the Psalmist, " The Lord is my fortress and
deliverer — my strength, in whom I will trust." The views which
she took of religious truth and duty, were of an elevated char
acter, without being mixed, so far as we can perceive, with
elements that are false and fanatical. Even at this early period
of her experience, the religious impulse, as if it had an instinc
tive conviction of the end to which it was tending, took a higher
position than is ordinary, but without failing to be guided by
,the spirit of sound wisdom. If she was a woman who both by
' nature and grace felt deeply, she was also a woman who thought
, clearly and strongly. She distinctly recognised, not only in
tellectually, but, what is far more important, practically, that
' God orders and pervades our allotment in life ; that God is in
life, not in the mitigated and merely speculative sense of the
term, but really and fully ; not merely as a passive spectator,
but as the inspiring impulse and soul of all that is not sin ; in
life, in all life, in all the situations and modifications of life, for
joy or for sorrow, for good or for evil. The practical as well as
speculative recognition of this principle may be regarded as a
first step towards a thorough walking with God. A heart un
subdued, in which worldly principles predominate, does not like
to see God in all things, and tries unceasingly to shake off the
yoke of Divine providence. To the subdued heart, on the con
trary — in which Christian principles predominate — that yoke
always is, and of necessity always must be, just in proportion
as such principles predominate, " the yoke which is easy and the
burden which is light." Early did this heaven-taught woman
learn this ; and she was willing to apply to her own situation,
and responsible relations, what s>he bad thus learned. It is one
i thing to have the charge of a family, and another to know and
to feel that this responsible position is the arrangement and
the gift of Providence. Providence, whose eye is unerring, had

OF MADAME GUYON. 47
placed her in that relation ; and whatever cares or sorrows might'
attend her position, she felt that, as a woman, and emphatically
as a Christian woman, she must recognise it as the place which
God had appointed, and as involving the sphere of duty which
God had imposed.
But her care was not limited to her family, to the exclusion
of other appropriate objects of Christian benevolence. She had
means of doing good, which she did not fail to employ. The
income of her husband's property, or rather the property of
which he had the control at this time, stated in the French
currency, was about forty thousand livres annually — a very
large income at that period. Of this amount, a certain portion
was placed in her hands by her husband, to be expended by her
as she might think proper ; and, accordingly, as God gave her
opportunity, and in imitation of that Saviour whom she now
followed, she did what she could for the poor and the sick,
discharging, without any hesitation, duties which would be ex
ceedingly unpleasant and irksome to a mind not supported by
Christian principle. " I was very assiduous," she remarks in
her life, " in performing deeds of charity. I had feelings of
strong compassion for the poor, and it would have been pleasing
to me to have supplied all their wants. God in His providence
bad given me an abundance ; and, in the employment of what
He had thus bestowed upon me, I wished to do all that I could
to help them. I can truly say, that there were but few of the
poor in the vicinity where I lived who did not partake of my
alms. I did not hesitate to distribute among them the very
best which could be furnished from my own table. It seemed
as if God had made me the only almoner in this neighbourhood.
Being refused by others, the poor and suffering came to me in
great numbers. My benefactions were not all public. I em
ployed a person to dispense alms privately, without letting it be
known from whom they came. There were some families who
needed and received assistance, without being willing to accept
of it as a gratuity ; and I reconciled their feelings with their
wants, by permitting them to incur the formality of a debt. I

48 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
I speak of giving, but, looking at the subject in the religious light,
I had nothing to give. My language to God was — ' Oh, my
, Divine Love, it is thy substance — / am only the steward of it — /
ought to distribute it according to thy will.' "
Her efforts for the good of others were not limited to gifts of
food and clothing. Ruinous vices prevailed in France during
the reign of Louis XIV. The profligacy of the Court, though
less intense than that which was exhibited subsequently in the
Regency of the Duke of Orleans and the reign of Louis XV.,
could hardly fail to find imitators among the people. This will
explain some further efforts to do good. In a number of in
stances, with a forethought creditable to her sound judgment as
well as her piety, she informs us that she caused poor young
girls, especially such as were particularly characterized by beauty
of person, to be taught some art or trade ; — that, having em
ployment and means of subsistence, they might not be under a
temptation to adopt vicious courses, and thus throw themselves
away. This was not all. Inspired with the sentiments which
animate the hearts of some pious females of later times, she did
not consider it inconsistent with religion to endeavour to reclaim
those of her sex who had fallen into the grossest sins. God
made use of her to reclaim several females, one of whom was
distinguished by her family connexions as well as her beauty,
who became not only reformed, but truly penitent and Christian,
and died a happy death. " I went," she says, " to visit the
sick, to comfort them, to make their beds. I made ointments,
aided in dressing wounds, and paid the funeral expenses incurred
in the interment of those who died. I sometimes privately
furnished tradesmen and mechanics, who stood in need of assist
ance, with the means that were requisite to enable them to
prosecute their business." It is very obvious, that in outward
charity she did much — perhaps all that could reasonably be
expected. But further, under the influences of her new life, which re
quired her to go about doing good, she laboured for the spiritual
as well as the temporal benefit of others — for the good of their

OF MADAME GUYON. 49
souls as well as for that of their bodies. Before the day dawned,
prayers ascended from her new heart of love. "So strong,
almost insatiable, was my desire for communion with God, that
I arose at four o'clock to pray." Her greatest pleasure, and,j
comparatively speaking, her only pleasure, was to be alone with
God, to pray to Him, and to commune with Him. She prayed
for others as well as herself. She says, " I could have wished
to teach all the world to love God." Her feelings were not
inoperative. Her efforts corresponded with her desires. She
says that God made use of her as an instrument in gaining
many souls to Himself. Her labours, however, were more suc
cessful in some cases than in others. Speaking of one of the
female relatives of her husband, who was very thoughtless on
religious subjects, she remarks, " I wanted her to seek the reli
gious state, and to practise prayer. Instead of complying, she
said that I was entirely destitute of all sense and wisdom in
thus depriving myself of all the amusements of the age ; but the
Lord has since opened her eyes to make her despise them."
" A lady of rank," she writes, " took a particular liking to
me, because my person and manners were agreeable. She said
that she observed in me something extraordinary. My impres
sion is, that my spiritual taste reacted upon my physical nature,
and that the inward attraction of my soul appeared on my very
countenance. A gentleman of fashion one day said to my hus
band's aunt, ' I saw your niece, and it is very visible that she
lives in the presence of God 1 ' I was surprised at hearing this,
as I did not suppose that a person so much addicted to the world
could have any very distinct idea of God's presence, even in the
hearts of his own people. This lady proposed to me to go with
her to the theatre. I refused, as, independently of my religious
principles, I had never been in the habit of going to such places.
The reason which I first gave was, that my husband's continual
indisposition rendered it inconvenient and improper. Not satis
fied with this, she continued to press me very earnestly. She
said that I ought not to be prevented by my husband's indis
positions from taking some amusement; that the business of

50 LIFE AND RELIGI0U3 EXPERIENCE
nursing the sick was more appropriate to older persons ; and
that I was too young to be thus confined. This led to more
particular conversation. I gave her my reasons for being par
ticularly attentive to my husband in his ill health. I told her
that I entirely disapproved of theatrical amusements, and re
garded them as especially inconsistent with the duties of a
Christian woman. The lady was far more advanced in years
than I was ; but my remarks made such an impression on her,
that she never visited such places afterwards.
" I was once in company with her and another lady, who was
fond of talking, and had read the Christian Fathers. They had
much conversation in relation to God. The learned lady, as
might be expected, talked very learnedly of Him. This sort of
merely intellectual and speculative conversation, in relation to
the Supreme Being, was not much to my taste. I scarcely said
anything ; my mind being drawn inwardly to silent and inward
communion with the great and good Being, about whom my
friends were speculating. The next day tho lady came to see
me. The Lord had touched her heart ; she came as a penitent,
as a seeker after religion ; she could hold out in her opposition
no longer. But I at once attributed this remarkable and sudden
change, as I did not converse with her the day previous, to the
conversation of our learned and speculative acquaintance. But
she assured me it was otherwise. She said, it was not the
other's conversation which affected her, but my silence ; adding
the remark, that my silence had something in it which pene
trated to the bottom of her soul, and that she could not relish
the other's discourse. After that time we spoke to each other
with open hearts on the great subject.
" It was then that God left indelible impressions of grace on
her soul ; and she continued so athirst for Him, that she could
scarcely endure to converse on any other subject. That she
might be wholly His, God deprived her of a most affectionate
husband : He also visited her with other severe crosses. At the
same time He poured His grace so abundantly into her heart,
that He soon conquered it, and became its solo master. After

OF MADAME GUYON. 51
the death of her husband and the loss of most of her fortune, she
went to reside on a small estate which yet remained situated
about twelve miles from our house. She obtained my husband's
consent to my passing a week with her, to console her under her
afflictions. I conversed much with her on religious subjects.
She possessed knowledge, and was a woman of uncommon in
tellectual power ; but being introduced into a world of new
thought as well as new feeling, she was surprised at my express
ing things so much above what is considered the ordinary range
of woman's capacity. I should have been surprised at it myself,
had I reflected on it. But it was God who gave me the gift of
perception and utterance for her sake ; He made me the instru
ment, diffusing a flood of grace into her soul, without regarding
the unworthiness of the channel He was pleased to use. Since
that time her soul has been the temple of the Holy Ghost, and
our hearts have been indissolubly united."
Religion, so far as it is religion, is always the same ; the same
in all lands and ages ; the same in its nature and results ; always
allied to angels and God, and always meeting with the opposi
tion of that which is not angelic and not of God. It is not sur
prising, therefore, that Madame Guyon's new heart should meet
with opposition from the world's old one.
" When the world saw that I had quitted it, it persecuted me,
and turned ¦ me into ridicule. I became the subject of its con
versation, fabulous stories, and amusement. Given up to its
irreligion and pleasures, it could not bear that a woman, little
more than twenty years of age, should thus make war against it,
and overcome it." That youth should quit the world was some
thing ; but that wealth, intelligence, and beauty, combined with
youth, should quit it, was much more. On merely human prin
ciples it could not well be explained. Some were offended ;
some spoke of her as a person under "mental delusion; some
attributed her conduct to stupidity, inquiring very significantly,
" What can all this mean ? This lady has the reputation of
knowledge and talent. But we see nothing of it."
But God was with her. About this time she and her hus-

52 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
band went into the country on some business. She did not leave
her religion on leaving her home. The river Seine flowed near
the place where they stayed. " On the banks of the river," she
says, "finding a dry and solitary place, I sought intercourse with
my God." Her husband did not accompany her there. She
went alone to the banks of the Seine, to the waters of the
beautiful river. It was indeed a solitary place ; but can we say
that she who went there went alone ? God was with her — God,
who made tbe woods and the waters, and in the beginning
walked with His holy ones amid the trees of the garden. "The
communications of Divine love," she adds, " were unutterably
sweet to my soul in that retirement." And thus, with God for
her portion, she was happy in the loss of that portion which was
taken away from her.
" Let the world despise and leave me, " Man may trouble and distress me.
They have left my Saviour too ; Twill but drive me to thy breast ;
Human hearts and looks deceive roe ; Life with trials hard may pre*s me ;
Thou art not, like them, untrue. Heaven will bring rue sweeter rest."
Happy would it have been, if she had been exposed only to
the ridicule and the opposition of those who were without.
Among the members of her own family still less than ever, with
the exception of her father, did she find any heart that corre-
i sponded fully to her own. It seems to have been the great oh-
* ject of her mother-in-law, who was exceedingly desirous to retain
the influence over her son which she had exercised previous to
his marriage, to weaken and destroy his affection for his wife.
Her object was cruel as it was wicked, although she probably
justified herself in it, from the fear that the benevolent disposi
tion of Madame Guyon, both before and after experiencing reli
gion, might result in a waste of the property of the family, if
she should possess all that influence with her husband, to which
such a wife was entitled. " My mother-in-law," she says,
" persuaded my husband that I let everything go to wreck,
and that, if she did not take care, he would be ruined." The
mother-in-law was seconded by the maidservant, and he became

OF MADAME GUYON. 53
unsettled and vacillating in his affections — not constant in his
love ; sometimes, and perhaps always, when separated from their
influence, truly and even passionately affectionate ; at other
times, and more frequently, distrustful and cruel.
In this perplexed and conflicting state of mind, we find his
language and his conduct equally conflicting. Sometimes he
speaks to her in the language of violence and abuse, sometimes
in a relenting spirit and with affection. He was not pleased with
the religious change in his wife. " My husband," she says,
" was out of humour with my devotion ; it became insupport
able to him. ' What!' says he, 'you love God so much that you
love me no longer.' So little did he comprehend that the true
conjugal love is that which is regulated by religious sentiment,
and which God himself forms iu the heart that loves Him." At
other times, when left to his better nature, he insisted much on
her being present with him ; and frankly recognising what he
saw was very evident, he said to her, " One sees plainly that you
never lose the presence of God."
The sorrow, therefore, which pained her life before her con
version, remained afterwards. It was a wound of the heart,
deep and terrible, which cannot well be appreciated or ex
pressed. To a woman who possesses those confiding and affec
tionate inclinations which characterize and adorn the sex, there
can be no compensation for an absence of love, — least of all, in
that sacred and ennobling relation, in which she gives up her
heart, in the fond expectation of a heart's return. It is true,
that it was a marriage, in the first instance, without much ac
quaintance ; but still it was not without some degree of confi
dence, and still less without hope. Madame Guyon always
refers to this painful subject with dignity and candour, — not
condemning others with severity, and willing to take a full share
of blame to herself. These trials would never have been known
from her pen, had they not been written at the express command
of her spiritual Director ; and she had no expectation that her
statements would be made public.
^The waiting-maid " became," she says, " every day more

54 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
haughty. It seemed as if Satan incited her to torment me.
And what enraged her most was, that her vexatious treatment,
fretfulness, impertinent complaints and rebukes, had ceased to
trouble me. Inwardly supported, I remained silent. It was
then that she thought that if she could hinder me from going to
partake of the holy Sacrament, she would give me the greatest
of all vexations. She was not mistaken, 0 divine Spouse of
holy souls I since the only satisfaction of my life was to receive
and honour thee. The church at which I worshipped was called
the Magdalen Church. I loved to visit it. I had done some
thing to ornament it, and to furnish it with the silver plates and
chalices of the Communion service. It was there, when things
were in such a situation at my house as to allow me to do it,
that I retired and spent hours in prayer. It was there, with a
heart filled with love, that I partook of the holy Sacrament.
This girl, who knew where my affections were, and how to
wound them, took it into her head to watch me daily. Some
times I evaded her, and had my seasons of retirement and prayer.
Whenever she discovered my going thither, she immediately ran
to tell my mother-in-law and my husband.
" One ground of complaint was the length of time which I
spent in religious services. Accordingly, when the maid-ser
vant informed them that I had gone to the church, it was
enough to excite their angry feelings. I had no rest from their
reproofs and invectives that day. If I said anything in my own
justification, it was enough to make them speak against me as
guilty and sacrilegious, and to cry out against all devotion. If
I remained silent, the result was merely to heighten their in
dignation, and to make them say the most unpleasant things
^ they could devise. If I were out of health, which was not un-
frequently the case, they took occasion to come and quarrel with
me at my bedside, saying, that my prayers and my sacramental
communions wero the occasions of my sickness. As if there
were nothing else which could make me ill, but my devotions to
thee, 0 my Lord!"
The mother-in-law endeavoured also to alienate the respect and

OF MADAME GUYON. 55
affections of her eldest son. And she too well succeeded;
although there is reason to think that he came to better disposi
tions in after life. So deep and sacred is a mother's love, this
seems to have affected the feelings of Madame Guyon more
keenly than anything else in her domestic afflictions. " The
heaviest cross," she says, " which I was called to bear, was the
loss of my eldest son's affections and his open revolt against me.
He exhibited so great disregard and contempt of me, that I
could not see him without severe grief." One of her pious
friends advised her, since she could not remedy it, that she must
suffer it patiently, and leave everything to God.
In general, she thought it best to bear her domestic trials in,
silence. As a woman of prayer and faith, she regarded them as
sent of God for some gracious purpose, and was somewhat fear
ful of seeking advice and consolation from any other than a
Divine source. Indeed she could not well do otherwise, having
but few friends whom it would have been prudent to have con
sulted upon these things. Her own mother was dead. The
half-sister, whom she loved so much, and with whom she had
beerr accustomed in earlier life to take counsel, was no longer
living. The two sisters of her husband, constituting with him
all the children of their family, who seem to have had no un
favourable dispositions, were almost constantly absent at the
Benedictine Seminary. They were brought up under the care
of the prioress, Genevieve Granger, whom we shall have occa
sion to mention hereafter. " Sometimes," she remarks on one
occasion, " I said to myself, Oh that I had but any one who
would take notice of me, or to whom I might unbosom myself!
what a relief it would be 1 But it was not granted me."
These domestic trials were alleviated, in some degree, by the
satisfaction which she took in her two younger children. They
were both lovely. The third child was a daughter, born in
1669. Of her she speaks in the warm terms of admiration and
love, dictated by the observation of her lovely traits of character,
as well as by the natural strength of motherly affection. She
represents her as budding and opening under her eye into an

56 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
object of delightful beauty and attraction. She loved her for
her loveliness, and for the God who gave her. When she was
deserted by the world, when her husband became estranged from
her, she pressed this young daughter to her bosom, and felt that
she was blessed. This too, this cherished and sacred pleasure,
was soon destined to pass away.

CHAPTER IX.
We are to consult our own improvement and good, as well as of others — Desires to be
wholly the Lord's — Efforts to keep the outward appetites in subjection— Remarks — The
inordinate action of all parts of the mind to be subdued — Austerities may be practised
without the idea of expiation— The monks of La Trappe— Temptations to go back to the
world — Visit to Paris — The errors committed there — Grief — Journey to Orleans and
Touraine — Temptations and religious infidelities and falls repeated — Incident on the
hanks of the Loire — Remarks upon her sins — VLat to St. Cloud — Sorrow — Inquiries on
holy living.
" Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." Our own vine
yard is not to be neglected. True Christianity verifies its exist
ence and its character, not merely in doing good to others, but
partly, at least, in the regulation of our own inward nature. It
is not enough to visit the sick and teach the ignorant, to feed the
hungry and clothe the naked, while we leave our own appetites
and passions unsubdued, unregulated.
The subject of this Memoir, however warm-hearted and diffu
sive may have been her charity to others, felt that there were
duties to herself. Something within her, told* her that God's
providence, which searches through all space and reaches all
hearts, had designated her, not merely as a subject of forgive
ness, but as a subject of sanctifying grace ; not merely as a
sinner to be saved, but as a living Temple in which His own
Godhead should dwell. And He who, in dwelling in the soul,
constitutes its true life, inspired desires within her, corresponding
to these designs.
Referring to the great change, which she dates specifically as

OF MADAME GUYON. 57
having taken place on the 22d of July 1668, she says, " I had a
secret desire given me from that time, to be wholly devoted to
the disposal of my God. The language of my heart, addressing
itself to my heavenly Father, was, What couldst thou demand of
me, which I would not willingly sacrifice or offer thee ? Ob,
spare me not 1 It seemed to me that I loved God too much,
willingly or knowingly to offend Him. I could hardly hear God
or our Lord Jesus Christ spoken of, without being almost trans
ported out of myself."
In accordance with these views, she endeavoured to recognise
practically the Saviour's direction, " Whether ye eat or drink,
or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God." And also
that other direction, " If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out
and cast it from thee; for it is profitable for thee, that one of
thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should
be cast into hell." It is hardly necessary to say, that no man.
can properly be accounted as wholly the Lord's, whose appetites
are not under control. It is possible that such a person may be
a Christian in the ordinary and mitigated sense of the term.
He may possess a soul to which the blood of the Atonement has
been applied ; but still it is a soul which is neither fully nor
adequately renovated. If it be true that the penalty of the,
Divine law, in its application to him as an individual, has been
satisfied, it is equally true, I think, that the new creation of the
gospel, the reign inwardly of the Holy Ghost, has not yet fully
come. The great work of sanctification must be carried on and
rendered complete. And the inward man cannot be sanctified
without the sanctification, in some proper sense of the terms, of
that which is outward. And accordingly she was enabled, with
that assistance which God always gives to those who add faith
to their efforts, to subdue and to regulate this important part of
our nature.
Some of the methods she took seem to imply an undue degree
of violence to principles of our nature, which are given us for
wise purposes, and in their appropriate action are entirely inno
cent. But there is a principle involved in the practical subjec-

58 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
tion of the appetites, which will in part justify her course. It
is, that an inordinate exercise of the appetites is to be overcome
by what may be termed an inordinate repression ; which, under
other circumstances, would neither be necessary nor proper.
She refused for a time to indulge them iu anything, in order
that she might regain her lost control, and be enabled after
wards to employ them aright. She curbed them strongly and
strictly, not only to break their present domination, but to annul
the terrible influence of that law of habit which gave to their
domination its permanency and power. " I kept my appetites,"
! she says, " under great restraint ; subjecting them to a process
of strict and unremitting mortification. It is impossible to sub
due the inordinate action of this part of our nature, perverted as
it is by long habits of vicious indulgence, unless we deny to it,
for a time, the smallest relaxation. Deny it firmly that which
gives it pleasure ; and if it be necessary, give to it that which
disgusts ; and persevere in this course, until, in a certain sense,
it has no choice in anything which is presented to it. If we,
during this warfare with the sensual nature, grant any relaxa
tion, giving a little here and a little there, not because it is
right, but because it is little, we act like those persons who,
under pretext of strengthening a man who is condemned to be
starved to death, give him, from time to time, a little nourish
ment, and thus prolong the man's torments, while they defeat
1 their own object.
" And these views will apply," she adds, " to the propensive
and affectional part of our nature, as well as the appetites ; and
also to the understanding and will. We must meet their in
ordinate action promptly. The state in which we are dying to
the world, and the state in which we are dead to the world, seem
clearly set forth by the apostle Paul as distinct from each other.
He speaks of bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord
Jesus ; but lest we should rest here, ho fully distinguishes this
from the state of being dead, and having our life hid with Christ
in God. It is only by a total death to self that we can expe
rience the state of Divine union, and be lost in God.

OF MADAME GUYON. 59
" But when a person has once experienced this loss of self, and
has become dead to sin, he has no further need of that extreme
syBtem of repression and mortification which, with the Divine
blessing, had given him the victory. The end for which morti
fication was practised is accomplished, and all is become new.
It is an unhappy error in those who have arrived at the conquest
of the bodily senses, through a series of long and unremitted
mortifications, that they should still continue attached to the
exercise of them. From this time, when the senses have ceased
from their inordinate action, we should permit them to accept,
with indifference and equanimity of mind, whatever the Lord sees
fit in His providence to give them — the pleasant and the unplea
sant, the sweet and the bitter.
" And having obtained the victory over the appetites, he who
seeks after entire holiness will pass on to other parts of our fallen
nature, and endeavour to subject the wandering intellect, the
misplaced affections, and the inordinate will. Severely repres
sive acts, analogous to the cutting off the right hand, or the
plucking out of the right eye, must be put forth here also. And
success may be expected, if the efforts of the creature, which are
always utter weakness without the inspiration of God and the
Divine blessing, are attended with prayer, faith, and the spirit
of serious and devout recollection."
Her views of austerities or acts of mortification, in her Auto
biography, as they are interpreted and perhaps somewhat modi
fied in her Short Method of Prayer, and her other works, are
less objectionable than some might suppose, who have not care
fully examined them. It is very probable, that her earliest
views on this subject were incorrect and dangerous. But after
she had become emancipated (which was the case at an early
period of her experience) from certain early impressions, it is
obvious that she regarded acts of austerity and mortification as
having relation to the laws of our nature, and not as furnishing
an atoning element ; as disciplinary and not as expiatory — a
distinction which is radical and of great consequence.
I doubt not that the distinction which separates the idea of

60 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
expiation from austere and self-mortifying acts, and makes them
merely disciplinary, would be found to hold good in many in
stances ; but, without pretending to say how far this may be
the case, I will relate here a single incident which will illustrate
what I mean. The monks of the celebrated monastery of La
Trappe, in France, after the reform effected there by M. De Ranee,
were exceedingly strict in their mode of life. The deprivations
they endured, and the austerities they imposed upon themselves,
seemed to be as great as human nature is well capable of en
during. A person visited the monastery, and witnessing the
austerities practised, he expressed his admiration of their self-
denial in rejecting those indulgences so common among other
persons. The monks, laying their hands on their hearts, with
a look of deep humiliation, replied in words to this effect : —
" We bless God that we find Him all-sufficient without the pos
session of those things to which you have referred. We reject
all such possessions and indulgences, but without claiming any
merit for it. Our deepest penances areproper subjects of repent
ance. We should have been here to little purpose, had we not
learned that our penitential acts, performed with too little feeling,
are not such as they should be ; and that our righteousness is
not free from imperfection and pollution. Whatever we may
endure, or for whatever reason it may be done, we ascribe all
our hopes of mercy and acceptance to the blood of Christ
alone."* The subjection of the appetites, which has a close connexion
with mental purity, and is exceedingly important, constitutes
but a small part of that physical and mental contest and victory
to which the Christian is called. His whole nature, every
thought and every feeling, every act of the desires and of the
will, is to be brought into subjection to the law of Christ.
Madame Guyon, with the great powers of analysis and reflection
she possessed, fully understood this. It was her desire and
purpose, both in body and in spirit, to be wholly the Lord's.
* Account of the Monastery of La Trappe, and of the Institution of Port Royal, by
Mary Anne Schiminelpenninck, vol. i. p. 140.

OF MADAME GUYON. 61
But she found that the contest, which she was summoned to
carry on with other and higher parts of her nature, was more
trying and less successful.
Under the influence of principles which are good when they
are not inordinate, she found to her great grief that she still
loved to hear and to know more than a sanctified Christianity
would allow. Man, under the influence of the natural life, is
disposed to diffuse himself — to overleap the humbling barriers
of God's providence, and to mingle in what is not his own. The
principle of curiosity, always strong, but especially so in a mind
like hers, was not only not dead, but what is still more im
portant, it ceased to be properly regulated. It was still a matter j
of interest with her to see and be seen, and to experience the
pleasures of worldly intercourse and conversation.
At one time the contest in this direction was very considerable.
Satan knew how and where to aim his arrows. He had sagacity
enough to perceive that she was not a woman that could easily
be subduced by appeals and temptations applied to her physical
nature, but that they must be made to her great powers of in
tellect, her pride of character, and desire of personal admiration
and personal influence. The suggestion came insidiously, but
it entered deeply into the heart. For two years she had laboured
faithfully in the cause of Christ. We do not mean to say that
Bhe had been without sin, but that she had struggled faithfully,
though sometimes unsuccessfully against sin, and without ever
thinking for a moment of yielding quietly to its solicitations and
influences ; and it was not till after all this favourable probation
that the secret whisper, breathed out gently and with great art,
came to her soul. It came from the source of all evil, and was
applied with Satanic skill. Is it possible that I must so far give
up all to God, that I shall have nothing left for the world ? In
this age of refinement and pleasure, when everything is awake
to intelligence, and when there is apparently but one voice of
joy, is it necessary, or even reasonable, that my eye should be
shut and my ears closed, and my lips silent ? The assault was
made with so much adroitness, that her religious resolution,

62 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
after having been strenuously sustained for some time, began
to waver.
In connexion with this state of things, she speakB of a visit
of some length in Paris — her usual residence being a short dis
tance out of the city. In expressions which convey an ominous
import to the religious mind, she says, " I relaxed in my usual
religious exercises, on account of the little time I had." Reli
gious declensions generally begin in this way. When she went
to Paris, she seems to have been comparatively in a good reli
gious state. She speaks of God's grace to her — of His continual
presence and care. She had experienced some heavy tempta
tions and trials before, but does not appear to have yielded to
them in any great degree. But she felt here as she had not felt
before, since she professed to walk in a new life — the dangerous
power of the heart, even of the Christian heart, whenever left
to itself, and unrestrained by Divine grace. Speaking of her
internal state, she says, " I seemed to myself to be like one of
those young brides, who find a difficulty after their marriage, in
laying aside their self-indulgence and self-love, and in faithfully
following their husbands into the duties and cares of life." To
a mind not fully established in the religious life, or temporarily
shaken in its religious principles, Paris was a place full of
hazard. She found the temptation great ; and it is a sad com
mentary on human weakness, that she in some degree yielded
to it.
She says, " I did many things which I ought not to have done."
What these things were, we do not fully know. She mentions,
however, as one thing which gave her trouble, that she felt an
improper gratification in receiving the attention of others. In
other words, her vanity still lived. There were a number of
persons in the city, apparently persons without experimental re
ligion, who were extremely fond of her ; and it was one of her
faults that she allowed them to express their personal regard in
too strong terms, without checking it as she ought. It appears
also that she regarded herself as having conformed too much to
the dress of the Parisian ladies. Among other things which

OF MADAME GUYON. 63
indicate her sense of her danger and actual unfaithfulness to
God, she speaks of promenading in the public walks of the city
— a practice not necessarily improper or sinful. She did not do
it merely out of complaisance to her friends, nor for the physical
pleasure and benefit which might be expected from the practice ;
but partly, at least, from the unsanctified feeling of personal
display, the desire of seeing and of being seen. But deeply did
she lament these falls.
" As I saw that the purity of my state was likely to be sul
lied by a too great intercourse with the world, I made haste to
finish the business which detained me at Paris, in order to re
turn to the country. It is true, 0 God, I felt that thou hadst
given me strength enough, in connexion with thy promised
assistance, to avoid the occasions of evil. But I found myself
in a situation of peculiar temptation. And I had so far yielded
to the evil influences to which I had been exposed, that I found
it difficult to resist the vain ceremonies and complaisances which
characterize fashionable life. Invited to join in the pleasures
to which the world was so generally and strongly devoted, I
was very far from tasting the satisfaction which they seemed to
give to others. ' Alas I ' said I, ' this is not my God, and nothing
beside Him can give solid pleasure.'
" I was not only disappointed, but I felt the deep sorrow
which always afflicts unfaithful souls. I cannot well describe
the anguish of which I was the subject. It was like a consum
ing fire. Banished from the presence of my Beloved, my bride
groom, how could I be happy ! I could not find access to Him,
and I certainly could not find rest out of Him. I knew not
what to do. I was like the dove out of the Ark ; which, find
ing no rest for the sole of its foot, was constrained to return
again ; but finding the window shut, could only fly about with
out being able to enter."
Her husband, with a keen eye, saw her position, and we may
well suppose secretly rejoiced at it. It was no disquiet to him,
looking at the matter in the worldly light, that she had made
her appearance in the fashionable companies of the most gay

64 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
and fashionable city in world. And still he could not but see
that the snare, which was thus laid for the faith and piety of
his wife, in the attractions and assemblies of Paris, had in some
degree failed. He was not ignorant that she had seen her
danger, and exhibited the wisdom and the decision to flee from
it. But certainly, if her religious principle was thus severely
tested at Paris, tliere could be no hazard to it, in her making
an excursion into the country, among mountains and rivers,
and others of God's great works. This, obviously, was a very
natural suggestion. It was proposed, therefore, that she should
take a distant journey. Her husband could go with her, and
was ready to do it. His state of health was such, that it could
hardly fail to be beneficial. And if her own health should not
be improved, as would be very likely, it would certainly contri
bute to her happiness. And it was an incidental consideration
which had its weight, that Montargis, the place of her early life,
could be visited in the way. Orleans, too, which was in the
tour, was a celebrated and beautiful city. Nor was it a small
thing to an imaginative mind like hers, to tread the banks and
to behold the scenery of the magnificent Loire. With that
great river there were some interesting recollections connected.
Not many years before, its waters had been wedded to those of
the Seine by the Canal of Briare — an astonishing work, a monu
ment of the enterprise of her husband's father, and the principal
source of the wealth of her family. Hence arose the journey
to the distant province of Touraine, in the spring or summer
of 1670.
But this journey also was attended with temptation and sin.
During the life of her husband, she generally journeyed in a
carriage, and with such attendants and equipage as were thought
suitable to her position in society, or as her husband's desires
and tastes might dictate. As she travelled from town to town,
in the Orleanois and down the Loire, known in history and
song, her eye betrayed her heart, and she found the spirit of
worldly interest again waking up within her. But the com
pany of others, involving as it does the suggestions and solicita-

OF MADAME GUYON. 65
tions of unsanctified nature, is sometimes more dangerous than
the sight of cities or of the works of nature and art. In that
part of France her father's family and her husband's had been
known, so that her movements were not likely to be kept secret.
Her personal reputation had preceded her. Her powers of con
versation were remarkable, and were always felt when she was
disposed to exert them. Men were taken also with her beauty
and wealth. " In this journey," she says, " abundance of visits
and applauses were bestowed upon me ; and I, who had already
experienced the pangs of being unfaithful to God, found emo
tions of vanity once more springing to life within me. Strange
as it may appear, and after all the bitterness I had experienced,
I loved human applause, while I clearly perceived its folly.
And I loved that in myself which caused this applause, while in
the conflict of my mind's feelings, I desired to be delivered from
it. The life of nature was pleased with public favour ; but the
life of grace made me see the danger of it, and dread it. Oh,
what pangs the heart feels in this situation I Deep was the
affliction which this combat of grace and nature cost me ! What
rendered my position the more dangerous was, that they not
only praised my youth and beauty, but passed compliments upon
my virtue. But this I could not receive. I had been too
deeply taught that there is nothing but unworthiness and weak
ness in myself, and that all goodness is from God."
" We met with some accidents," she says, " in this journey,
which were sufficient to have impressed and terrified any one.
And it is proper for me to say, witli gratitude, that though the
corruptions of my nature prevailed against me, my heavenly
Father did not desert me. He kept me submissive and resigned
in dangers, where there seemed to be no possibility of escape.
At one time, on tho banks of the Loire, we got into a narrow
path, from which we could not well retreat. The waves of the
river washed the base of the narrow road before us, and partly
undermined it, so that it was necessary for our footman to sup
port one side of the carriage. All around me were terrified ;
but God kept me in tranquillity. Indeed, sensible of my weak-

66 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
ness, and fearful that I might still more dishonour Him, I
seemed to have a secret desire, that He would take me out of
the temptations of the world, by some sudden stroke of His pro
vidence." In the soitow and depression of her spirit, she went in search
of religious friends and teachers, to confess and lament her back-
Blidings. But they did not, or perhaps could not, enter into her
feelings. " They did not condemn," she says, " what God con
demned ; and treated those things as excusable and proper,
which seemed to me to be disapproved and even detestable in
His sight. But in saying that they wholly extenuated my faults,
or did not consider them very great, I ought to add, that they
did not understand (nobody but myself could understand) how
much God had done for me. Instead of measuring my faults
by the mercies and graces which God had conferred upon me,
they only considered what I was, in comparison with what I might
have been. Hence their remarks tended to flatter my pride, and
to justify me in things which incurred the Divine displeasure.
" It is an important remark, that a sin is not to be measured
merely by its nature, in itself considered ; but also by the state
of tho person who commits it ; as the least unfaithfulness in a
wife is more injurious to a husband, and affects him more deeply,
than far greater acts of unkindness and neglect in his domestics.
I had given myself to God in a bond of union more sacred than
any human tie. Was it possible, then, to bestow my thoughts
and affections on another, without offending Him to whom my
soul had already betrothed itself? My trials were connected, in
part, with the fashions of those gay times, the modes of dress,
and methods of personal intercourse. It seemed to me that the
dress of the ladies, with whom, in my journey to Orleans and
Touraine, I was led almost necessarily to associate, was hardly
consistent with Christian, or even natural modesty and decorum.
I did not wholly conform to the prevalent modes, but I went too
far in that direction.
" My associates, seeing that I covered my neck much more
than was common for females at that time, assured me that I

OF MADAME GUYON. 67
was quite modest and Christian-like in my attire ; and as my
husband liked my dress, there could be nothing amiss in it.
But something within mo told me that it was not so. The
Christian knows what it is to hear the voice of God in his soul.
This inward voice troubled me. It seemed to say, Whither art
thou going, thou 'whom my soul loveth?' Divine love drew
me gently and sweetly in one direction ; while natural vanity
violently dragged me in another. I was undecided ; loving
God, but not wholly willing to give up the world. My heart
was rent asunder by the contest."
This was indeed a sad state. But there was another marked
difference between the present and her former state. In the
days of her life of nature, she not only sinned, but had in
reality no disposition to do otherwise. She loved to sin. Reno
vated now, though imperfect — sincerely desirous to do right,
though often failing to do so — she could not fall into transgres
sion without the deepest sorrow and torment of mind. Sin had
lost the sweetness which once characterized it. She began to
perceive, that even the smallest transgression cannot fail to
separate from God.
If, under the impulse of an unsanctified curiosity, she gave an
unguarded look — if in a moment of temptation she uttered a
hasty reply to the rebukes and accusations of others — (moral
delinquencies which some might not regard as very great) — it
cost her bitter tears. Even when she dispensed her munificent
charity, which brought consolation to the poor and suffering, she
sometimes found, with sorrow of heart, that the donation which
ought to have been made with " a single eye," was corrupted by
a glance at the rewards of self-complacency and of worldly
applause. " The God of love," she says, " so enlightened my heart, and
so scrutinized its secret springs, that the smallest defects became
exposed. In my conversation I could often discover some secret
motive which was evil, and was in consequence compelled to
keep silence. And even my silence, when examined by the aid
of the Divine light, was not exempt from imperfection. If I

68 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
was led to converse about myself, and said anything in my own
favour, I discovered pride. And I could not even walk the
streets, without sometimes noticing in my movements the impulse
of the life of self." She seemed to be in the condition described
in the seventh chapter of Romans — a description which will
apply both to the struggles of the enlightened sinner when
deeply convicted of his transgressions, and to the inward con
flicts of the partially sanctified Christian. " I delight in the
law of God after the inward man ; but I see another law in my
members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing mo
into captivity to the law of sin."
" It must not be supposed, however," she adds, " that God
suffered my faults to go unpunished. 0 my God 1 — with what
rigour dost thou punish the most faithful, the most loving and
beloved of thy children ! The anguish which the truly devout
soul experiences, when it sees sin in itself, is inexpressible.
The method which God takes inwardly to correct those whom
Ne designs to purify radically and completely, must be felt, in
order to be understood. This anguish of the soul can perhaps
best be expressed by calling it a secret burning — an internal
fire ; or perhaps it may be compared to a dislocated joint, which
is in incessant torment, until the bone is replaced. Sometimes
such a soul is tempted to look to men and to seek consolation in
the creature ; but this is in violation of God's designs upon it,
and it cannot in that way find any true rest. It is best to endure
patiently, till God sees fit, in His own time and way, to remove
the agony.
In this divided state of mind, continually striving for a better
religious state, and yet continually faltering and failing in her
resolutions, she received an invitation to make one in a fashion
able party to visit St. Cloud. This beautiful village, situated
on the banks of the Seine, at the distance of only six miles from
Paris, was then, as it is now, tho resort of fashionable society.
( lelebrated for its natural scenery, its park, and the magnificent
palace and gardens of the Duke of Orleans, it was the chosen
spot for the residences of many families of wealth and taste.

OF MADAME GUYON. 69
Other ladies, with whom she was well acquainted, were invited
to the festival ; and their solicitations were employed to induce
her to go with them. She yielded, but not without condemning
herself for doing it.
"I went," she says, "through a spirit of weak compliance,
and from the impulse of vanity. Everything connected with
the entertainment was magnificent. It was an occasion espe
cially adapted to meet the wants and views of the votaries of
worldly pleasure. The ladies who attended me, wise in worldly
wisdom, but not in the things of religion, relished it. But as
for me, it filled me with bitterness. I pleased others ; but I
offended Him whom I ought most to have pleased. Rich were
the tables that were spread, but I could eat nothing1. The
sounds of festivity and joy arose on every side ; but it was not
possible for me to enjoy anything. Pleasure shone in the looks
of other visitants, but sorrow was written upon mine. O what
tears did this false step cost me ! My Beloved was offended.
For above three long months, He withdrew entirely the fa
vours of His presence. I could see nothing but an angry God
before me."
One important lesson which she learned from these tempta
tions and follies — a lesson as important as any which the nature
of the Christian life renders indispensable — was that of her en
tire dependence on Divine grace. " I became," she says, " deeply
assured of what the prophet hath said, ' Except the Lord keep
the city, the watchman waketh but in vain 1 ' When I looked to
thee, 0 my Lord 1 thou wast my faithful keeper ; thou didst
continually defend my heart against all kinds of enemies. But,
alas I when left to myself, I was all weakness. How easily did
my enemies prevail over me I Let others ascribe their victories
to their own fidelity : as for myself, I shall never attribute
them to anything else than thy paternal care. I have too often
experienced, to my cost, what I should be without thee, to pre
sume in the least on any wisdom or efforts of my own. It is
to thee, 0 God, my Deliverer, that I owe everything 1 And it is
a source of infinite satisfaction, that I am thus indebted to thee."

70 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPEMENCE
From this time, she gave her mind to the great subject of
! holy living, with a deep and solemn earnestness, which she had
never experienced before. She began to realize the tremendous
import of those solemn words of the Saviour, " No man can
serve two masters ; for either he will hate the one and love the
other ; or else he will hold to the one and despise the other. Ye
¦ cannot serve God and mammon."
There is but one way for the Christian to walk in. It is not
' possible that there should be any other. " A strait and narrow
way," it is true ; but still, properly speaking, not a difficult way.
Undoubtedly it is difficult to a heart naturally averse to it, to
enter into it, and to become entirely naturalized to it. Some
times the difficulty is very great ; but when once the process is
fairly begun, and the influence of old habits is broken, the
difficulty is, in a great degree, removed ; and it becomes true,
as the Saviour has said, that His " yoke is easy, and His
burden is light."
But people do not understand this ; first, because, in a mul
titude of cases, they do not make the experiment at all — they
do not even enter into the way ; and secondly, because they do
not persevere in the experiment sufficiently long to render it a
fair one. But whether difficult or not, whether the difficulty con
tinues for a longer or shorter time, it is God's way, and there
fore the only true and safe way. But why is it described as a
strait and narrow way ? I answer, because it is a way in which
every step is regulated by God's will. It is a way of one prin
ciple, and cannot therefore be otherwise than both strait and
narrow. Any deviation from that will, however slight it may
be, is necessarily a step out of the way. It is not only the way
which leads to life, as the Scriptures express it ; but it does of
itself constitute a life, because he, who is in God's will, is in life,
and life is in him. " This," says the apostle John, "is the
record, — That God hath given to us eternal life ; and this life
is in His Son. He that hath the Son hath life ; and he that hath
nut the Son of God hath not life." (1 John v. 11, 12.)

OF MADAME GUYON. 71

CHAPTER X.
Early views of her Christian stato— Surprise at the discovery of the remains of sin In herself
—Seeks assistance from others— The religious character of that ago— Consults Genevieve
Granger— Attends religious services at Notre Dame— Extraordinary interview with a
person unknown— His advice— Renewed consecration— Attacked by the smallpox—
Treatment from her mother-in-law— Death of her youngest son— Feelings— Poetical writ
ings — Justice of God amiable.
In this season of temptation and penitence, of trial and of
comparative despondency, she looked around for advice and
assistance. Not fully informed in respect to the nature of the
inward life, she felt perplexed at her own situation. In the
first joy of her spiritual espousals, she looked upon herself, as is
frequently the case, not only as a sinner forgiven for the sins
past, but what is a very different thing, as a sinner saved from
the commission of sin for the present, and in all future time.
Looking at the subject in the excited state of her young love,
when the turbulent emotions perplex the calm exercises of
the judgment, she appears to have regarded the victory which
God had given her, as one which would stand against all
possible assaults ; the greatness of her triumph for to-day
scarcely exceeding the strength of her confidence for to-morrow.
She felt no sting in her conscience ; she bore no cloud on her
brow. How surprised, then, was she to find, after a short period, and
a more close and thorough examination, that her best acts were
mingled with imperfection and sin ; and that every day, as she
was increasingly enlightened by the Holy Ghost, she seemed to
discover more and more of motives to action, which might be
described as sinful. After all her struggles and hopes, she
found herself in the situation of being condemned to bear about
a secret but terrible enemy in her own bosom. Under these
circumstances, it was natural to look around for some religious
person who might render her some assistance. Were others in
the same situation ? Was it our destiny to be always sinning
and always repenting ? Was there really no hope of deliverance

72 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
! from transgression till we might find it in the grave ? Such
were some of the questions which arose in her mind. Who could
tell her what to do, or how to do it ? '
i This was not an age which was distinguished for piety, parti
cularly in France. Pious individuals undoubtedly there were,
but piety was not its characteristic. We cannot well forget
that it was in this age that the Port-Royalists acquired a name
which will long be celebrated. From time to time some gay
young people of Paris, or the provinces, sick of the vanities of
the world, went into religious retirement, and were known no
more, except by pious works and prayers. Others, like the
celebrated M. Bouthillier de Ranee, possessed of talents that
would have signalized almost any name, found their career of
aspiring worldliness coming in conflict with the arrangements
of Providence, and were ultimately led in the way, which at the
time seemed full of sorrow and perplexity, to adore the hand
which secretly smote them. We cannot well forget, that the
daughters of the great Colbert, the Sully of the age of Louis
XIV., ladies alike distinguished by character and by position,
set an illustrious example, in a corrupt period of the world, of
sincere, decided, and unaffected piety. This was the age and
country of Nicole and Arnauld, of Pascal and Racine. In the
retirement of La Trappe, as well as in the cells of Port- Royal,
at St. Cyr, and, strange to say, within the terrible walls of the
Bastille, prayers ascended from devout hearts.* And may we
i not say, that, in every age and every country, God has a people ;
that in periods of religious declension, as well as at other times,
He has His followers, few though they may be, who are known,
appreciated, and beloved by Him whose favour alone is life ?
But Madame Guyon did not find those helps from personal
intercourse which would have been desirable. Christian friends
of deep piety and of sound judgment were few in number. But
tliere were some such to whom she had access ; — one of whom,
* I refer, among other instances, to Father Seguenot, a priest of tho Congregation of tho
Oratory, and to M. de St Claude, a distinguished Port-Royalist, and a man of great piety,
both oonnned in the dungeons of the Bastille.

OF MADAME GUYON. 73
in particular, Genevieve Granger, the devout and judicious
Prioress of a community of Benedictines established a short dis
tance from the place of her residence, she often mentions. To
her she had been introduced some years before by the Francis
can, whom Providence had employed as the special means of her
conversion. The acquaintance was rendered the more natural
and easy, because her husband's sisters had been fof some time
under the care of the Prioress. To her, more freely and more
fully than to any other, she made known the temptations she had
experienced, and tbe falls of which she had been guilty.
This pious woman understood Madame Guyon's religious posi
tion, and encouraged her much in her hopes and purposes of a
new and amended life. She probably had some foresight of the
position which Providence might call her to occupy, and of the
influence she might exert. She explained to her the great diffi
culty of uniting a conformity with the world, even to a limited
extent, with an entire fulfilment of Christian obligations. Her
own personal experience was calculated to add weight to her
suggestions. Adopting the principle, that it is possible for us,
even amid the temptations of the present life, to live wholly to
God, she was unwilling to see any one, especially such a person
as Madame Guyon, adopting a standard of feeling and action
below the mark of entire consecration and perfect faith and love.
Madame Guyon, at this period, began to have a more distinct ,
and realizing perception of what is implied in a sanctified life.
Some portions of her reading, as well as her personal experience,
had been favourable to this result. In the Life of Madame de ,
Chantal, which she had read with great interest, she found the '
doctrine of holiness, so far as it may be supposed to consist in a
will subjected to God, and in a heart filled with love, illustrated
in daily living and practice, as well as asserted as a doctrine.
The writings of Francis de Sales are characterized, in distinc
tion from many other devout writings of the period in which he
lived, by insisting on continual walking with God, on the entire
surrender of the human will to the divine, and on the existence
of pure love. The writings of this devout and learned man

74 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
seem to have been her constant companions through life. The
Imitation of Christ, generally ascribed to Thomas-a-Kempis, is
animated by the same spirit of high Christian attainment. All
these writers, under different forms of expression, agree in
Btrenuously teaching that the whole heart, the whole life, should
be given to God ; and that in some true sense this entire Bur-
render, not excluding, however, a constant sense of demerit and
of dependence on God, and the constant need of the applica
tion of Christ's blood, is in reality not less practicable than it is
obligatory. Her mind, therefore, had been prepared to receive promptly,
and to confide strongly in, the suggestions and admonitions of the
Benedictine Prioress. The few facts which can be gathered from
the writings of Madame Guyon, are enough to show that Gene
vieve Granger was a woman who combined strength of intellect
with humble piety. The world did not know her, but she was
not unknown to Him who made the world. She may be de
scribed as one of those who live in the world without the de
basements of a worldly spirit, and of whom it can be said, that
" the secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him." And it is
well for those who are seeking religion, or inquiring the me
thods of progress in religion, to learn of those who have thus
been taught.
At this most interesting juncture an incident occurred, some
what remarkable, which made a deep impression on her mind.
She went to attend some religious services in the celebrated
church of Notre Dame at Paris. As the weather was inviting,
she did not take a carriage as usual, but decided to walk, al
though her house was some miles distant. She was attended,
however, by a footman, as she generally was at this period of
her life. Just as they had passed one of the bridges over the
Seine, a person appeared at her side and entered into conversa
tion ; — a man religiously solemn and instructive in his appear
ance and intercourse, but so poor and almost repulsive in his
attire, that, at their first meeting, thinking him an object of
charity, she offered him alms.

OF MADAME GUYON. 75
" This man spoke to me," she says, " in a wonderful man
ner, of God and Divine things. His remarks on the Holy
Trinity were more instructive and sublime than I had heard on
any other occasion, or from any other person. But his conver
sation was chiefly personal. I know not how it was, but he
seemed in some way to have acquired a remarkable knowledge
of my character. He professed to regard me as a Christian, and
spoke especially of my love to God, and my numerous charities ;
and, while he recognised all that was good in me, he felt it his
duty to speak to me plainly of my faults. He told me that I
was too fond of my personal attractions ; and enumerated, one
after another, the various faults and imperfections of my life.
And then, assuming a higher tone, he gave me to understand
that God required not merely a heart of which it could only be
said, it is forgiven, but a heart which could properly, and in
some real sense, be designated as holy ; that it was not sufficient
to escape hell, but that he demanded also the subjection of our
nature, and the utmost purity and height of Christian attainment.
The circumstance of his wearing the dress of a mendicant, did
not prevent his speaking like one having authority. There was
something in him which commanded my silence and profound
respect. The Spirit of God bore witness to what he said. The
words of this remarkable man, whom I never saw before, and
whom I have never seen since, penetrated my very Soul. Deeply J
affected and overcome by what he said, I had no sooner reached
the church than I fainted away."
Previously, Madame Guyon had learned the great lesson of
recognising God in His providences; and, under the influence
of this indispensable knowledge, she could not doubt who it was
that was speaking to her in the voice of His servants. Aroused ;
by what she had experienced of her own weakness, and startled
into solemn thought by these repeated warnings, she gave her
self to the Lord anew.
And here we may mark a distinct and very important crisis
in the history of her spiritual being. Taught by sad experi
ence, she saw the utter impossibility of combining the love of the

J

76 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
world with the love of God. " From this day, this hour, if it
be possible, I will be wholly the Lord's. The world shall have
no portion in me." Such was the language of her heart, — such
her solemn determination. She formed her resolution after
counting the cost, — a resolution which was made in God's
strength, and not in her own ; which, in after life, was often
smitten by the storm and tried in the fire ; but, from this time
onward, so far as we know anything of her history, was never
consumed, — was never broken. She gave herself to the Lord,
not only to be His in the ordinary and mitigated sense of the
terms, but to be His wholly, and to be His for ever — to be His
in body and in spirit — to be His in personal efforts and influence
— to be His in all that she was, and in all that it was possible
for her to be. There was no reserve.
Her consecration, made in the spirit of entire self-renounce
ment, was a consecration to God's will, and not to her own ; to
be what God would have her to be, and not what her fallen nature
would have her to be. Two years after this time, she placed her
signature to a written Act of Covenant or Act of Consecration ;
but the act itself she made previously, made it now, and made
it irrevocable. In its substance it was written in the heart, and
was witnessed by the Holy Ghost. God accepted the offering
of herself, for He knew it to be sincere, because He himself, who
is the Author of every good purpose, had inspired it.
Desire, even religious desire, without a strong basis of sin
cerity, often stops short of affecting the will ; but, in religion
especially, desire without will is practically of no value. Madame
> Guyon not only desired to be, but resolved to be holy. Her will
was in the thing — the will, which constitutes in its action the
unity of the whole mind's action, and which is the true and only
certain exponent of the inward moral and religious condition.
And here we find the great difficulty in the position of many
religious men at the present time. They profess to desire to be
holy, and perhaps they do desire it. They pray for it as well as
desire it. But, after all, it is too often the case that they are not
willing to be holy. They are not ready, by a consecrating act,

OF MADAME GUYON. 77
resting on a deliberate and solemn purpose, to place themselves
in a position, which they have every reason to think will, by
God's grace, result in holiness. This may be regarded, perhaps,
as a nice distinction ; but when rightly understood, it seems to
me to lie deep and unchangeable in the mind. In the cases to
which we refer, the desire, whatever may be its strength, is not
strong enough to control the volition. The will, therefore, is
not brought into the true position. The will, considered in re
lation to the other powers of the mind, constitutes the mind's
unity. The will is wanting. The man, therefore, is wanting.
Many already dead to all claims of personal merit in the
matter of salvation, and thinking that they may now live on
their own stock, and in the strength of their own vitality and
power, do not understand (alas, how few do understand it 1) that
they must not only die to their own merits, but must die to their
own life ; that they must not only die to Christ on the cross
that they may begin to have the true life, but that they must die
to Christ on the cross that they may continue to have life. In
other words, they must not only be so broken and humbled as to
receive Christ as a Saviour from hell ; but must be willing also,
renouncing all natural desire and all human strength, and all of
man's wisdom and man's hope, and all self-will, to receive Him
as a Saviour, moment by moment, from sin.
And this they are not willing to do ; and therefore, although
they have God's promise to help them, they will not purpose and
resolve to do it. Their wills do not correspond with what must
be, with what God requires to be, and cannot do otherwise than
require to be, just so far as He carries on and completes the
work of sanctification in the soul ; namely, that God's own hand
must lay the axe of inward crucifixion unsparingly at the root
of the natural life ; that God in Christ, operating in the person
of the Holy Ghost, must be the principle of inward inspiration
moment by moment, the crucifier of every wrong desire and pur
pose, the Author of every right and holy purpose, the light and
life of the soul.
But upon this altar of sacrifice, terrible as it is to the natural

78 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
mind, Madame Guyon did not hesitate to place herself, believing
that God would accomplish His own work in His own time and
way. She invited the hand of the destroyer, that she might live
again from the ruins of that which should be slain. He who
does not willingly afflict His children, but pities them as a
Father, accepted the work thus committed to Him. It is some
times the case that God subdues and exterminates that inordin
ate action of the mind, which is conveniently denominated the
life of nature, by the inward teaching and operation of the Holy
Ghost, independently, in a considerable degree, of the agency of
any marked providences. Such cases, however, are rare. Much
more frequently it is done by the appropriate application of His
providences, in connexion with the inward influence.
It was this combined process, to which the subject of this
Memoir, in the spirit of a heart that seeks its own destruction,
submitted herself. She had given herself to God without reserve ;
and He did not long withhold or conceal the evidence of her
acceptance. The one followed the other without delay and with
out misgiving. Knowing that her resolutions, and spirit of self-
sacrifice, independently of His foresight and assistance, would be
of no avail, He arranged a series of physical and moral adjust
ments, which resulted in blow after blow, till the pride of
nature, which sometimes stands like a wall of adamant, was
thoroughly broken. It was then, and not till then, that her soul
entered into that state of purity and rest, which she has signifi
cantly denominated its state of "simplicity ;" a state in which
the soul has but one motive, that of God's will, and but one
source of happiness, that of God's glory.
The first thing He did was to smite her beauty with that
dreadful scourge, the small-pox. The summer was over ; her
ear no longer listened to the waters of the Loire ; the festivities
of St. Cloud and Paris had passed away. On the 4th of October
1670, the blow came upon her like lightning from heaven.
This dreadful disease was not then shorn of its terrors by that
merciful Providence which directed the philosophic mind of
Jenner in the discovery of its wonderful preventive. And she

OF MADAME GUYON. 79
was thus smitten when she was a little more than twenty-two
years of age. When it was discovered that the hand of tho
Lord was thus upon her, her friends exhibited great emotion.
They came around her bedside, and almost forgetting that her
life was in danger, deplored in feeling language the mysterious
and fatal attack, which was thus made upon charms which had
been so much celebrated.
" Before I fell under this disease," she says, " I resembled
those animals destined for slaughter, which on certain days
they adorn with greens and flowers, and bring in pomp into
the city, before they kill them. My whole body looked like
that of a leper. All who saw me said they had never seen
such a shocking spectacle. But the devastation without was
counterbalanced by peace within. My soul was kept in a state
of contentment, greater than can be expressed. Reminded con
tinually of one of the causes of my religious trials and falls, I
indulged the hope of regaining my inward liberty by the loss of
that outward beauty which had been my grief. This view of
my condition rendered my soul so well satisfied, that it would
not have exchanged its condition for that of the most happy
prince in the world.
" Every one thought I should be inconsolable. Several of my
friends came around me, and gave utterance to their regret and
sympathy in view of my sad condition. As I lay in my bed,
suffering the total deprivation of that which had been a snare to
my pride, I experienced a joy unspeakable. I praised God in
profound silence. None ever heard any complaints from me,
either of my pains or of the loss which I sustained. Thank
fully I received everything, as from God's hand ; and I did not
hesitate to say to those who expressed their regret and sympathy,
that I rejoiced at that in which they found so much cause of
lamentation. " When I had so far recovered as to be able to sit up in my
bed, I ordered a mirror to be brought, and indulged my curiosity
so far as to view myself in it. I was no longer what I was once.
It was then that I saw that my heavenly Father had not been

80 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
unfaithful in His work, but had ordered the sacrifice in all its
reality. Some persons sent me a sort of pomatum, which they said
would have the effect of filling up the hollows of the small-pox,
and restoring my complexion. I had myself seen wonderful effects
from it upon others ; and the first impulse of my mind was to
test its merits in my own case. But God, jealous of His work,
would not suffer it. The inward voice spoke. There was
something in my heart which said, ' If I would have had thee
fair, I would have left thee as thou wert.'
" Fearful of offending God by setting myself against the de
signs of His providence, I was obliged to lay aside the remedies
which were brought me. I was under the necessity of going
into the open air, which made the hollows of my face worse.
As soon as I was able, I did not hesitate to go into the streets
and places where I had been accustomed to go previously, in
order that my humiliation might triumph in the very places
where my unholy pride had been exalted.
" During these afflictions, the trials in connexion with my
husband's family continued. At the commencement of my sick
ness, I was so much neglected by my mother-in-law that I was
on the point of dying for want of succour. Such was the state
of my husband's health at this time, that I was necessarily left,
in a great degree, to her care. She would not allow any physi
cian but her own to prescribe for me ; and yet she did not send
for him for some time, although he was within a day's journey
of us. He came at last, when I had providentially received
some assistance from another source, and when he could be of
but little service to me. In this extremity I opened not my
mouth to request any human succour. I looked for life or death
from the hand of God, without testifying the least uneasiness at
so strange a course of conduct. The peace I enjoyed within, on
account of that perfect resignation in which God kept me by
His grace, was so great, that it made me forget myself in the
midst of such violent maladies and pressing dangers.
" And if it was thus 'in my sickness, it could not well be ex
pected that my mother-in-law would exhibit any more favourable

OF MADAME GUYON. 81
dispositions after my recovery. She did not cease at all in her
unkind efforts to alienate my husband's affections from me. And
now, as God had smitten and taken away whatever there was of
beauty in my countenance, he seemed to be more susceptible
than ever of any unfavourable impressions. In consequence, the
persons who spoke to him to my disadvantage, finding them
selves more listened to than formerly, repeated their attacks upon
me more frequently and more boldly. Others changed, but God
did not change. Thou only, 0 my God ! didst remain the same.
Thou didst smite me without, but didst not cease to bless me
within. In augmenting my exterior crosses, thou didst not
cease to increase my inward graces and happiness."
But the work of God was not yet accomplished. If He had
smitten and demolished one dear idol, there were others which
remained. God had given her two sons. The eldest was in the
sixth year, the youngest in the fourth year of his age. She loved
them both ; but one was especially the son of her affections.
The eldest she loved with some alternations of feeling, and in
deep sorrow. The same causes which operated to disturb and
alienate her husband's affections, had their influence here. The
second son was not thus injured. In the favourable opening of his
young affections and intellect, he filled the measure of a mother's
fondness and hopes. Her heart was fixed upon him. But God,
who knew on which side danger lay, took her Jacob, and left
her Esau.
He was seized with the same terrible disease. " This blow,"
she says, " struck me to the heart. I was overwhelmed ; but
God gave me strength in my weakness. I loved my young boy
tenderly ; but though I was greatly afflicted at his death, I saw
the hand of the Lord so clearly that I shed no tears. I offered
him up to God ; and said in the language of Job, ' The Lord
gave, and the Lord hath taken away. Blessed be his name.' "
During these successive trials, she recognised the hand that
smote her, and blessed it. Her prayer was that God, in the
work of destruction, would take from her entirely the power of
displeasing Him. " Art thou not strong enough," she exclaimed,

82

MFE AND UELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE

" to take from me this unholy duplicity of mind, and to make
me one with thyself?" She says that it was a consolation to
\ her to experience the rigours of God. She loved God's justice.
She rejoiced in His holy administration, however it might touch
and wither all her worldly prospects. She felt that He was
right as well as, merciful, just as well as good ; and that both
justice and mercy are to be praised.
About this time we find the first mention of her attempts at
poetry. Poetry is the natural expression of strong feeling. She
felt, and she wrote. Voltaire, in discrediting her religious pre
tensions, speaks lightly also of her effusions in verse. It would
require a more intimate knowledge of French poetical diction
than I profess to have, to give an opinion of her poetry, so far
as the expression is concerned. But I do not hesitate to say,
with great confidence, that this portion of her writings, with
some variations, undoubtedly exhibits in a high degree the
spirit of poetry. There is in it the highest kind of thought, the
deepest feeling. The following poem, translated by Mr. Gowper,
whom some critics, I think, would not place below Voltaire,
either as a writer or judge of poetry, may be regarded as ex
pressive, in 6ome particulars, of her religious experience at this
time : —

DIVINE JUSTICE AMIABLE.

Thou hast no lightnings, 0 thou Just I
Or I their force should know ;
And. if tkuu strike me into dust,
My soul approves the blow.
Tlie heart that values leas its ease,
Than it adores thy ways,
In thine avenging anger sees
A subject of its praise.
Pleased I could lie, conceal'd and lout,
In shades of contral night;
Not to avoid thy wrath, thou know'st.
But lest I grieve thy sight.
Smite me, O thou whom I provoke !
And I will lovo thee still.
The well-deserved and righteous stroke
Shall please me, though It kill.

Am I not worthy to Bustain
Tho worst thou canst devise ?
And dare I seek thy throne again.
And meet thy sacred eyes ?
Far from afflicting, thou art kind,
And in my saddest hours,
An unction of thy grace I find
Pervading all my powers.
Alas 1 thou spar'st me yet again,
And when thy wrath should move,
Too gentle to endure my pain,
Thou sooth'st vie with (hy love.
I havo no punishment to fear ;
But. ah ! that smile front thee
Imparts a pung far more Bevere
Than woo itself would be.

OF MADAME GUYON. S">

CHAPTER XI.
Faithfulness In trial— Spiritual consolations-General remarks on her experience during
1071— Domestic and other duties— Trials in relation to seasons of prayer— The faults of
which she considered herself guilty at this period— Remarks on a regard for God's provi
dences—First acquaintance. July 1671, with Francis La Combe— Soino account of him—
Impression made on him by her conversations— Growth in grace— The account of her
will subdued, but not wholly renovated.
In all the trials which she was thus called to endure, it may
be said of her, as it was of Job, that she " sinned not, nor
charged God foolishly." The sincerity of her consecration to
God had been tried ; and, through the grace of God, it had not
been found wanting.
It is possible, that the suggestion may arise in the minds of
some, that God compensated her outward trials by giving an
increase of inward consolation. And such was the case, un
doubtedly—for He never fails " to temper the wind to the shorn
lamb." The hand which afflicted did not allow her to sink
under the blow.
" I had a great desire," she says, " for the most intimate
communion with God. For this object, my heart went forth in
continual prayer. He answered my supplication richly and
deeply. The sensible emotion and joy which I experienced,
were sometimes overwhelming. My heart was filled with love
as well as with joy ; with that love which seeks another's will,
and which is ready to relinquish and sacrifice its own.
" But this state of mind did not always continue. At other
times my mind seemed to be dry, arid, ' unemotional;' and not
fully understanding the nature of His dealings with men, it
seemed to me at such times that God, being offended for some
thing, had left me. The pain of His absence (for such I sup
posed it to be) was very great. Thinking it to be for some fault
of mine that He had thus left me, I mourned deeply, — I was
inconsolable. I did not then understand, that in the progress
of the inward death, I must be crucified not only to the outward

84 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
joys of sense, and to the pleasures of worldly vanity, but also,
which is a more terrible and trying crucifixion, that I must die
to the joys of God, in order that I might fully live to the will of
God. If I had known that this was one of the states through
which I must pass, in order to experience the full power of sanc
tifying grace, I should not have been troubled."
During the year 1671, the hand of the Lord, considered in com
parison with its former dealings, seems to have been stayed. God
had found her faithful ; and her soul, without having entered
into the state of permanent rest and union, experienced, amid all
her trials, a high degree of inward consolation and peace. She
was patient and faithful in the discharge of domestic duties,
regular and watchful in her seasons of private devotion, and
prompt in performing the duties of kindness and benevolence to
others. We do not mean to say that she was without trials ;
but, whatever they were, she was greatly supported under them.
And both by the griefs she suffered, and the duties she discharged,
and the supports and consolations which were afforded her, the
process of inward crucifixion was continually going on.
There were some things, however, even in her course at this
time, which she was afterwards led to regard as faults. She
was more attached to the retirement, the exercises, and the
pleasures of devotion, than she was to the efforts, mingled as
they oftentimes were with temptations and trials, of present and
practical duty. As God had not fully taken up His abode in
her heart, — which is the only appropriate and adequate correc
tive of dangers from this source, — she found Him, in particular
seasons and places. And the consequence was, that she not
only loyed such seasons and places, and sought them very much,
but sometimes loved them, and sought them in such a way and
to such a degi'ee, as to interfere with the wants and happiness of
others. It is thus that self-will, the last inward enemy which is
subdued, may find a place even in our most sacred things, but
never without injury.
The principle which she adopted, at a subsequent and more
enlightened period of her Christian experience, was, that the

OF MADAME GUYON. Si)
true place of God, when we speak of God's place anywhere out
of the heart, is in His providences. It is true, indeed, that
God's kingdom is in the heart. " The kingdom of God," says
the Saviour, "is within you." But it is true, also, that He
holds His kingdom there, and reigns there, in connexion with
His providences.
And it may properly be added, that the providences of God
include both time and place, in the widest sense. So far from
excluding times and places, set apart for devotion or other pur
poses, they recognise and establish them ; but they hold them
also in strict subordination. These Divine providences are in
themselves, and emphatically so, the time of times and the place
of places. Undoubtedly, in an important sense of the terms, the religious
man's place is his closet. " Enter into thy closet," says the
Saviour, " and pray to thy Father, who seeth in secret." The
closet is an indispensable place to him. But whenever he goes
there in violation of God's providences, it ceases to be a place of
God's appointment, and he goes there without God. It is God
himself who consecrates the place, and makes it a profitable one.
And accordingly, the times and places which are erected within
the sphere of God's providences, and in harmony with them, are
right and well ; and all other times and places are wrong.
" All my crosses," she says, " would have seemed little; if I
might have had liberty, in those seasons when I desired it, to be
alone and to pray. But my mother-in-law and husband re
stricted me much. The subjection under which I was thus
brought, was exceedingly painful to me. Accordingly, wheu it
was understood that I had retired for prayer, my husband would
look on his watch, to see if I stayed above half an hour. If I
exceeded that time, he grew very uneasy, and complained.
" Sometimes I used a little artifice to effect my purposes. I
went to him, and asked him, saying nothing of any devotional
exercises, if he would grant me an hour, only one hour, to divert
myself in some way, or in any way, that might be pleasing to
my own mind. If I had specified some known worldly amuse-

8(i LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
ment, I should probably have obtained my request. But as he
could hardly fail to see that I wanted the time for prayer, I did
not succeed.
" I must confess that my imperfect religious knowledge and
experience caused me much trouble. I often exceeded my half-
hour; ray husband was angry, and I was sad. But it was I
myself, in part at least, who thus gave occasion for what I was
made to suffer. Was it not God, as well as my husband, who
placed this restriction upon me? I understood it afterwards,
but did not understand it then. I ought to have looked upon
my captivity as a part of God's providences and as an effect of
His will. If I had separated these things from the subordinate
agent, and looked upon them in the true divine light, I might
have been contented and happy. When months and years had
passed away, God erected His temple fully in my heart. I
learned to pray in that divine retreat ; and from that time I
went no more out."
She thought, therefore, that at this period she might have
failed, in some degree, in her duty to her husband and family,
in consequence of not fully understanding the will of God in
His providences. And this view of things perhaps gives signi-
ficancy to a remark of her husband, that " she loved God so
much that she had no love left for him." We will give one or
two other facts, which involve tho same principle. She had a
beautiful garden, and in the time of fruits and flowers, she often
walked there. But such was the intensity of her contemplations
on God, that her eye seemed to be closed, and she knew nothing,
comparatively speaking, of the outward beauty which surrounded
her. And when she went into the house, and her husband asked
her how the fruits were, and the flowers, she knew but little
about it. And this gave him considerable offence.
Again, it oftentimes happened that things were related in the
family, which wero entitled to consideration. Others conversed
and listened and remembered ; but so entirely absorbed wns
her mind that she was scarcely able to do either. And when
these topics subsequently came up, it was found that she knew

OF MADAME GUYON. 87
nothing of them. This seemed to indicate a want of respect
for the feelings of others, if not an obvious disregard of duty.
The highest form of Christian experience is always in har
mony with present duty. It admits no kind of feeling, and no
degree of feeling, which is inconsistent with the requirements
of our present situation. The highest love to God does not re
quire us to violate our duty to our neighbour, or even to our
enemy. It does not require us to violate our duty. When
our religious experience stops in " emotionality," it is apt to do
this ; when it but partially controls the desires, it is not always
a safe guide ; but when it breaks down all self-will, and truly
establishes the throne of God in the centre of the soul, it does
all things right and .well ; first, by estimating all things in
themselves and their relations, just as they ought to be esti
mated, and then by corresponding to this just estimate by an
equally just conduct. To this state she had not as yet fully
attained. During this period of her personal history we first find men
tion made of Francis de la Combe. This somewhat distin
guished individual is closely connected with her history. He
was born at Thonon, a flourishing town of Savoy, on the borders
of the Lake of Geneva.
In early life he was the subject of religious impressions, and
attached himself to the Barnabites, one of the Orders in the
Roman Catholic Church. He was possessed of a high degree
of natural talent, improved by a finished education. He was
tall and commanding iu his personal appearance, and natur
ally eloquent. He seems to have given his whole heart to
God's work. He was frequently employed in religious missions,
by those on whom the responsibility of such movements rested
in the French Church, particularly in the year 1679, and about
that time, when he was sent to the province of Chablais, in
Savoy, in which his native town, Thonon, was situated, he
also laboured as a missionary at Annecy, another town of
Savoy, not far from Chambery.
He published a small treatise, entitled A Short Letter of In-

88 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
struction, in which he endeavours to point out the principles of
growth and of the highest possible attainment in the Christian
life. His principal published work was his Analysis of Mental
Prayer — Orationis Mentalis Analysis.
Some portions of his religious correspondence have been pre
served. His letters to Madame Guyon are to be found, some of
them, in the collections of her writings, and others in the large
collection of the works of Bossuet.
In June or July of 1671, a letter was brought to Madame
Guyon from her half-brother, Father La Mothe, by La Combe,
who was then young, but came highly recommended from La
Mothe, who wished his sister to see him, and to regard and treat
hiin as one of his most intimate friends. Madame Guyon says,
that she was unwilling at this time to form new acquaintances ;
but desirous of corresponding to the request of her brother, she
admitted him. The conversation turned chiefly upon religious
subjects. With the clear insight of character which she pos
sessed, she could not fail to become deeply interested in La
Combe, as one on whom many religious interests might depend.
But still she could not at that time fully decide whether she
should regard him as truly a possessor of religion, or as merely
a seeker after it. " I thought," she says, " that he either loved
God, or was disposed to love Him — a state of things which
could not fail to interest me, as it was the great desire of my
heart that everybody should experience this Divine love." As
God had already made use of her as an instrument in the con
version of three persons, members of the order to which he
belonged, she indulged the hope that she might be made a
benefit to him. And she now felt a desire to continue the
acquaintance. La Combe left her, but he was not satisfied. Providence had
brought him in contact with a mind to which either grace or
nature, or both in combination, had given power over other
minds. He desired, therefore, to see more and to hear more.
And, accordingly, he repeated the visit after a short time.
Madame Guyon remarks that La Combe, who seems to have

OF MADAME GUYON. 89
been a man not only of intelligence but of vivacity and gene
rosity of feeling, was very acceptable to her husband. On this
second visit, ho conversed with her husband freely. During the
interview, he was taken somewhat unwell ; and with the view
of recovering himself in the open air, he went out and walked
in the garden. Soon after, Madame Guyon, at the particular
request of her husband, went out for the purpose of seeing him,
and of rendering any assistance which might be needed. She
availed herself of the opportunity which was thus afforded, to
explain to him what she denominates the interior or inward way,
" la voie de Vinterieur ; " a way which is inward because it rests
upon God, in distinction from the outward, that rests upon man.
He was prepared to receive her remarks, because he inwardly
felt the need of that form of experience involved in them, and
because he perceived from her countenance, her conversation,
and her life, that she possessed that of which he felt himself to
be destitute.
La Combe always admitted afterwards, that this conversation
formed a crisis in his life. Her words, attended by Divine
power, sank deep into his soul. Then and there he formed the
purpose, with Divine assistance, to be wholly the Lord's. " God
was pleased," says Madame Guyon, " to make use of such an
unworthy instrument as myself, in the communication of His
grace. He has since owned to me, that he went away at that
time changed into quite another man. I ever afterwards felt an
interest in him ; for I could not doubt that he would be a ser
vant of the Lord. But I was far from foreseeing, that I should
ever go to the place of his residence."
It is evident that she was growing in grace. The world had
lost, in an increased degree, its power. Her inward nature had
become more conformed to the requisitions of the gospel law.
We have evidence of this in various ways. Among other things,
speaking of Paris, she remarks, in connexion with a visit which
she was obliged to make there, " Paris was a place now no
longer to be dreaded, as in times past. It is true, there were
the same outward attractions, the same thronging multitudes ;

90 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
but the crowds of people served only to draw me into deeper re
ligious recollection. The noise of the streets only augmented
my inward prayer."
She adds, " Under the pressure of the daily troubles and afflic
tions which befell me, I was enabled, by Divine grace, to keep
my will, 0 my God ! subservient to thine. I could say practi
cally, ' Not my will, but thine be done.' When two well-timed
lutes are in perfect concert, that which is not touched renders
the same sound as that which is touched. There is the same
spirit in both, the same sound — one pure harmony. It was thus
that my will seemed to be in harmony with God's will.
" This was the result of grace. Grace conquered nature ; but
it was nature in its operations, rather than in its essence. My
will was subdued in its operations in particular cases, so that I
could praise the Lord for entire acquiescence ; but there still
remained in it a secret tendency, when a favourable opportunity
should present, lo break out of that harmony, and to put itself
in revolt. I have since found, in the strange conditions I have
been obliged to pass through, how much I had to suffer before
the will became fully broken down, annihilated, as it were, not
only in its selfish operations, but in its selfish tendencies, and
changed in its very nature. How many persons there are who
think their wills are quite lost when they are far from it. In
hard temptations and trials, they would find that a will submis
sive is not a will lost ; a will not rebellious, is not a will annihi
lated. Who is there who does not wish something for himself —
wealth, honour, pleasure, conveniency, liberty, something ? And
he who thinks his mind loose from all these objects, because he
possesses them, would soon perceive his attachment to them, if
he were once called upon to undergo the process of being wholly
deprived of them. On particular occasions, therefore, although
the will might be kept right in its operations, so as to be in
harmony with the Divine will, he would still feel the sharp
struggle coming out of the will's life ; and his consciousness
would testify, that he is rendered victorious, moment by
moment, only by Divine grace."

OF MADAME GDYON. 9l

CHAPTER XII.
Incidents of 1672— Presentiment of her father's death— A message with the news of hid last
sickness — His death — Remarks — Affectionate eulogimn on her daughter — Her sickness
and death — The renewed and entire consecration of herself in 1670 — This act reduced
to writing, and signed for the first time, July 22, 1672— Instrumentality of Genevieve
Granger — Form of this consecrating act — Remarks — Dangers connected with a journey-
Reflections. Thus passed the year 1671. I am particular in tbe periods
of time, for, by connecting the dealings of God and the progress
of the inward life with specific times and situations, we can
hardly fail to have a clearer idea of the incidents which are
narrated. Another year found her renewedly consecrated to
God, and growing wiser and holier through the discipline of
bitter experience. Her trials had been somewhat less in this
year than in the preceding, but still not wholly suspended ; and
as God designed that she should be wholly His, there were other
trials in prospect designed to aid in this result.
Some remarkable impressions or presentiments may be ex
plained on natural principles, but there are others of which it
might not be easy to give a satisfactory account in that manner.
I have been led to this remark from an incident in her history,
on a morning of July, in 1672. " At four o'clock in the morn
ing," she says, " I awoke suddenly with a strong impression or
presentiment that my father was dead ; and though at that time
my soul had been in very great contentment, yet such was my
love for him, that the impression I had of his death affected my
heart with sorrow, and my body with weakness."
I do not mention this incident, because I think it very im
portant. It was not a mere transitory impression, but a pre
sentiment so sudden, so deeply imprinted, so controlling, as to
take entire possession of the mind. She was so deeply affected,
that she says she could hardly speak.
She had been residing some days at a monastery, the Prioress
of which was a personal friend, some leagues from her usual

92 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
residence. She had gone there for religious purposes, and left
her father residing at her house. On the afternoon of the same
day in which she experienced the strong presentiment, a man
arrived at the monastery in great haste. He brought a letter
from her husband, in which he informed her of her father's
dangerous illness. She immediately set out to visit him, but on
arriving she found him dead.
To her father she was tenderly attached. " His virtues," she
says, " were so generally known that it is unnecessary to speak
of them. I pass them in silence, or only with the simple re
mark, that as he passed through the scenes and trials of his
closing days, he exhibited great reliance on God. His patience
and faith were wonderful." Thus another tie to the earth was
sundered ; and the freedom of the soul, which is liable to be
contracted and shackled even by the domestic affections, when
they are but partially sanctified, grew wider and stronger from
the bonds that were broken.
Another affliction was near at hand. He who gives himself
to God, to experience under His hand the transformations of
sanctifying grace, must be willing to give up all objects, how
ever dear they may be, which he does not hold in strict subor
dination to the claims of Divine love, and which he does not
love in and for God alone. The sanctification of the heart, in
the strict and full sense of the term, is inconsistent with a
divided and wandering affection. A misplaced love, whether
it be wrong in its degree or its object, is as really, though ap
parently not as odiously, sinful, as a misplaced hatred.
She had a daughter, an only daughter — young, it is true, only
three years of age, or but a little more than three years of age —
and yet, in her own language, " as dearly beloved as she was
truly lovely." " This little daughter," says the mother, " had
great beauty of person ; and the graces of the body were equalled
by those of the mind ; so that a person must have been insen
sible both to beauty and to merit not to have loved her. Young
as she was, she had a perception of religious things, and seems
to have loved God in an extraordinary manner. Often I found

OF MADAME GUYON. 93
her in some retired place, in some corner, praying. It was her
habit, whenever she saw me at prayer, to come and join with me ;
and if at any time she discovered that I had been praying with
out her, feeling that something was wrong, or that something was
lost, she would weep bitterly, and exclaim in her sorrow, " Ah,
mother, you pray, but I do not pray.' When we were alone, if
she saw my eyes closed, as would naturally be the case in my
seasons of inward recollection, she would whisper, ' Are you
asleep?' and then would cry out, 'Ah, no I You are praying
to our dear Jesus ; ' and dropping on her knees before me, she
would begin to pray too.
" So strongly did she express her desire and determination to
give herself to the Lord, and to be one with Him in spirit, that
it gave occasion for reproof on the part of her grandmother.
But still she could not be prevailed upon to alter her expres
sions. She was very dutiful — many were her endearments —
and she was innocent and modest as a little angel. Her father
doted on her. To her mother she was endeared much more by
the qualities of her heart than by those of her beautiful person.
I looked upon her as my great, and almost my only consolation
on earth ; for she had as much affection for me as her surviving
brother, who had been subjected to the most unhappy influences,
had aversion and contempt. She died of an unseasonable bleed
ing. But what shall I say — she died by the hands of Him who
was pleased to strip me of all." Her daughter died in July
1672. In the latter part of the year 1670, more than a year and a
half previous to the period of which we are now speaking, she
had anew given herself to God, in great sincerity, and, as it
seemed to her, without any reserve. In all the trials to which
He had seen fit to subject her, no whisper of complaint, no word
or murmur, had ever escaped her lips. But she had not as yet
committed her religious purposes to the formality of a written
record. At least we have no mention of any such thing. It
was a mental purpose, a simple transaction between her soul
and God, of which God alone was the witness. It was possible,

94 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
however, that she might forget that she might be faithless.
There were yet many and heavy trials before her.
Her pious and deeply experienced friend, Genevieve Granger,
did not cease to sympathize in the various trials which Madame
Guyon had been called to pass through, to pray for her, and
advise her. Among other things, she wished to add new solem
nity and interest to her consecration, — a consecration made on
principles of an entire and permanent surrender of herself to God.
She selected, as a day especially appropriate to her purpose, the
22dofJuly. It was on that day and month, four years before, after yeare
of inquiry and struggle, that she had first believed on the Lord
Jesus Christ in such a manner as to bring into her soul the
sense of forgiveness, and to fill it with inward peace. It was,
therefore, a day to be remembered with gratitude ; as we find
that it was remembered through her whole life. Genevieve
Granger, in the course of that friendly correspondence which had
existed between them for some years, sent word to her, that she
wished her to notice the approaching anniversary of that day in
a special manner, by acts of worship and by alms. She wished
her also to examine, and if she approved of it, to sign what
might perhaps be called a marriage-covenant with the Saviour,
which she had herself drawn up, in very concise terms, for
Madame Guyon's use. Perhaps she had in mind that interest
ing passage of the Scriptures, " The marriage of the Lamb is
come, and his wife hath made herself ready ; and to her was
granted that she should be arrayed in fine linen, clean and
white ; for the fine linen is the righteousness of saints." (Rev.
xix. 7, 8.) These suggestions, coming from a source which she
had been accustomed greatly to respect, could not fail to be at
tended to. And especially bo, as they corresponded entirely
with her own views and feelings. The act or covenant of Con
secration, drawn up in accordance with those expressions of
Scripture which speak of the Church as tho bride or spouse of
God, with her signature appended, was as follows : —

OF MADAME GUYON. 9.rl
/ henceforth take Jesus Christ to be mine. I promise to
receive Him as a husband to me. And I give myself to Him,
unworthy though I am, to be His spouse. I ask of Him, in this
marriage of spirit with spirit, that I may be of the same mind
with Him, — meek, pure, nothing in myself, and united in God's
will. And, pledged as I am to be His, I accept, as a part of
my marriage portion, the temptations and sorrows, the crosses
and the contempt which fell to Him.
Jeanne M. B. de la Mothe Guyon.
Sealed with her ring.
This transaction, simple in appearance but carried through
with sincere and earnest solemnity of spirit, was much blessed to
her. She felt that there was a sanctity in the relation thus
voluntarily established, which it would have been the highest
impiety, as it would have caused the deepest sorrow, ever know
ingly to violate. She had an inward and deeper sense of conse
cration, both of body and spirit, such as she had not experienced
at any time before. God himself has condescended to say,
speaking of those who constitute His true people, " I am married
to them." (Jer. iii. 14.)
In examining the record of her life, I find an incident men
tioned without date ; but from the connexion in which it appears,
I refer it to this period. " My husband and I," she says, " took
a little journey together, in which both my resignation and
humility were exercised ; yet without difficulty or constraint, so
powerful was the influence of divine grace. We all of us came
near perishing in a river. The carriage, in passing through the
water, sank in the moving sand at the bottom, which rendered
our position very dangerous. Others threw themselves out of
the carriage in excessive fright. But I found my thoughts so
much taken up with God, that I nad no distinct sense of the
danger to which we were really exposed. God, to whom my
mind was inwardly drawn, delivered me from the perils to which
we were exposed, with scarcely a thought on my part of avoid
ing them. It is true, that the thought of being drowned passed

96 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
across my mind, but it caused no other sensation or reflection,
than that I felt quite contented and willing that it should be so,
if it were my heavenly Father's choice.
" It may be said, and perhaps with some reason, that I was
rash in not exhibiting more anxiety, and in not making greater
effort to escape. But I am obliged to add, in justification of
myself, that it is better to perish, trusting calmly in God's pro
vidence, than to make our escape from danger, trusting in our
selves. But what do I say ? When we trust in God, it is
impossible to perish. At least it is so in the spiritual sense.
Trust itself is salvation. It is my pleasure, my happiness, to be
indebted to God for everything. In this state of mind, I can
not fail to be content in the trials which He sees fit to send upon
me. In the spirit of acquiescence in God's will, I would rather
endure them all my life long, than put an end to them in a
dependence on myself."

CHAPTER XIII.
Birth of a son — Her religious state — Death of Geneviovo Granger — Their intimacy — Re
marks on this affliction and on worldly attachments and supports — Her second visit to
Orleans — Interview with a Jesuit — Remarks — Undue spiritual eartnestnesB or spiritual
impetuosity — Writes to a person of distinction and merit for advice — Withdraws her re
quest — Result and remarks — Distinction between the wholly and the partially sanctified
mind — Lawsuit — Conduct in connexion with it — Remarks.
One of the incidents of the year 1673, to which these series
of events now bring us, was the birth of her fourth child, a son,
whom Providence had given her in the place of the too much
idolized boy, whom she had lost two years before. This son,
who seems to have proved himself worthy of her affections, grew
up to manhood. But the grace of God enabled her to love him
with that pure and chastened affection which holds everything
in subordination to the Divine will.
At the time of the birth, and during the early period of the
life of this child, she speaks of herself as being the subject of

OF MADAME GUYON. 97
great inward support and consolation. Her feelings may per
haps be expressed in the language of the Psalmist — language
which, in various ages of the world, has found a response in
many pious bosoms, "Blessed be the Lord, because He hath
heard the voice of my supplications. The Lord is my strength
and my shield. My heart trusted in Him, and I am helped;
therefore my heart greatly rejoices ; and with my song will I
praise Him." (Ps. xxviii. 6, 7.)
But this season of consolation was succeeded by a trial unex
pected and severe, in the sickness and death of her friend and
confidant, Genevieve Granger. To her she had often gone for
advice and support, when her way seemed dark and her heart
was sorrowful. Many were the hours which she had passed
with her in religious conversation ; and perhaps she looked to
her more than was entirely consistent with a simple and un
wavering dependence on God alone.
It increased her affliction, that she was not present in her last
sickness and at her death. She was at the time at a place called
St. Reine. Near the close of the life of the Prioress, some one
spoke to her in relation to Madame Guyon, to awaken her from
a lethargy into which she had fallen. Her mind rallied at a
name so dear, and she made the single remark, " I have always
loved her in God and for God." These were her last words.
She died soon after.
" When I received this news," says Madame Guyon, " I must
confess, that it was one of the most afflicting strokes which I
had ever experienced. I could not help the thought that, if I
had been with her at the time of her death, I might have spoken
to her, and might have received her last instructions. She had
been a great help to me. In some of my afflictions, it is true, I
could not see her. Efforts were made to prevent it. This was
especially the case for a few months before her death. But still,
such was our sympathy of spirit, that the remembrance — the
thought of what she might have said or done — was a support to
me. The Lord was merciful, even in this renewed and heavy
affliction. He had taught me inwardly, before her death, that
G

98 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
my attachment to her, and my dependence on her, were so great,
that it would be profitable for me to be deprived of her." But
the necessity of this event did not prevent its being keenly pain
ful to nature.
" Oh, adorable conduct of my God I" she exclaims. " There
must be no guide, no prop for the person whom thou art leading
into the regions of darkness and death. There must be no con
ductor, no support to the man whom thou art determined to de
stroy by the entire destruction of the natural life." Everything
upon which the soul rests, out of God, must be smitten, whether
reputation, or property, or health, or symmetry of person, or
friends, or father, or mother, or wife, or husband, or children.
He who loses his life, shall find it. Well does she add, " We
are found by being lost ; we are saved by being destroyed ; we
are built up by being first demolished. Man erects his inward
temple with much industry and care ; and he is obliged to do
it with such materials as he has. All this structure and super
structure is a new-modelling and building up of the old Adam.
But all this is removed and destroyed when God comes into the
soul, and builds a new and Divine temple not made with hands,
and of materials which endure for ever. Oh, secrets of the in
comprehensible wisdom of God, unknown to any besides Himself
and to those whom He has especially taught — yet man, who has
just begun his existence, wants to penetrate and set bouuds to
it ! Who is it that hath known the mind of the Lord, or who
hath been His counsellor ? It is a wisdom only to be known
through death to self, which is the same thing as death to every
thing that sets itself up in opposition to the true light."
In the latter part of the year 1673, she visited Orleans a
second time, at the marriage of her brother. While there, she
became acquainted with a Jesuit, who exhibited some interest in
her religious experience. She corresponded to this desire with
much vivacity and very fully. But she began to see that it is
not only necessary to do the right thing, but to do it in the
right spirit.
" I was too forward," she says, " and free in speaking to him

OF MADAME GUYON. 99
of spiritual things, thinking I was doing well ; but I experienced
an inward condemnation for it afterwards. The conversation,
in itself considered, might not have been objectionable ; but the
manner of it, or rather the inward spirit of it, was to some degree
wrong. And I was so sensible that the spirit of nature, in dis
tinction from the spirit of grace, dictated in part what I said,
and was so afflicted at it, that I was kept, with Divine aid, from
falling into the like fault again. How often do we mistake
nature for grace ! Sanctification does not necessarily imply a
want of earnestness. Far from it. A holy soul, feeling the
importance of holiness as no other one can, cannot be otherwise
than earnest. But that holy earnestness which comes wholly
from God, is entirely inconsistent with the presence and opera
tion of all those influences, whatever they may be, which are
separate from God."
There is much truth in these views, for there is undoubtedly
such a thing as spiritual forwardness, eminently religious in ap
pearance, but sometimes much less truly and purely religious
than it seems. This state of mind is not, generally speaking,
destitute of the religious element ; but it is constituted of the
religious element, impelled and influenced, in a greater or less
degree, by the natural element.
Another incident indicates her progress in inward sanctifica
tion. " One day," she says, " laden with sorrow, and not know
ing what to do, I wished to have some conversation with an
individual of distinction and merit, who often came into our
vicinity, and was regarded as a person deeply religious. I wrote
him a letter, requesting the favour of a personal interview, for
the purpose of receiving from him some instruction and advice.
But reflecting on the subject, it seemed to me that I had done
wrong. The Spirit of God seemed to utter itself in my heart,
and to say, ' What ! dost thou seek for ease ? Art thou unwill
ing to bear the Lord's hand, which is thus imposed upon you ?
Is it necessary to be so hasty in throwing off the yoke, grievous
though it be?'
" In this state of mind, I wrote another letter, and withdrew

100 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
my request, stating to him that my first letter had been written,
I had reason to fear, without a suitable regard to God's provi
dence and will, and partly, at least, from the fearful or selfish
suggestions of the life of nature ; and as he knew what it was
to be faithful to God, I hoped he would not disapprove of my
acting with this Christian simplicity. I supposed, from the high
repntation which he enjoyed as a Christian, that he would have
appreciated my motives, and have received this second communi
cation in the Christian spirit in which I hoped it was written.
" On the contrary, he resented it highly. And I think we
may well inquire, what explanation shall we give of this sort of
Christianity ? That this person was religious, in the imperfect
or mitigated sense of the term, I doubt not. He seems to have
been regarded as eminently religious ; but it is still true, that his
religion, whatever may have been the degree of it, was mixed
up, pervaded and animated, more or less, on different occasions,
with the life and activities of nature. Certain it is, that the life
of nature, or that life which has self and not God for its basis,
was not wholly slain within him. He could not say, under all
circumstances, ' It is well. Thy will be done 1 ' "
In connexion with this individual, referring to the important
results which characterize the experience of what she appropri
ately terms inward death, she says, that the soul, which comes
out of it in the brightness of the new spiritual resurrection, " is
purified from its selfishness, like gold in the furnace, and finds
itself clothed in those dispositions and Divine states which shone
in the life of Jesus Christ. Formerly, although it had submitted
itself to God in the matter of its salvation through Christ, it
was still proud of its own wisdom, and inordinately attached to
its own will ; but now, in the crucifixion of nature and in the
life of sanctification, it seeks all its wisdom from God, renders
obedience with the simplicity of a little child, and recognises no
will but God's will. Formerly, selfishly jealous of what it con
sidered its rights, it was ready to take fire on many occasions,
however unimportant ; but now, when it comes in conflict with
others, it yields readily and without reluctance. It does not

OF MADAME GUYON. 101
yield, after a great effort and with pain, as if under a process of
discipline, but naturally and easily. Formerly, even when it
could justly be said to be religious to some extent, it was puffed
up at times with more or less of vanity and self-conceit, but now,
it loves a low place, poverty of spirit, meekness, humiliation.
Formerly, although it loved others, it loved itself more, and
placed itself above them ; but now, rejoicing equally in the
happiness of others, it possesses a boundless charity for its neigh
bour, bearing with his faults and weaknesses, and winning him
by love. The rage of the wolf, which still remained in some
degree, and sometimes showed itself, is changed into the meek
ness of the lamb."
Such are the accurate terms in which she discriminates be
tween the Christian life in its ordinary appearance of partial
sanctification, and the same life when it becomes a " new Christ,"
by experiencing a more full and complete regeneration into the
purity, simplicity, and beauty of the Divine image.
About this time, a matter occurred which illustrates her char
acter in other respects. A certain person, whose name is not
given, prompted either by malice or by avarice, attempted, by
false pretences, to extort a large sum of money from her hus
band. The claim, which had the appearance of being one of
long standing, was for two hundred thousand livres, which the
claimant pretended was due to him from Madame Guyon and
her brother conjointly. The claimant was supported in his
unjust demand, by the powerful influence of the king's eldest
brother, the Duke of Orleans. They tampered with her brother,
who was so young and inexperienced as not to understand the
merits of the case, in such a manner as to obtain his signature
to certain important papers which were to be used in the trial.
They had given him to understand that, if they succeeded in
the establishment of their claim, he should not pay anything.
Madame Guyon felt that a great wrong was about to be done.
Her husband, perplexed by the apparent intricacy of the affair,
or perhaps terrified by the influence of the Duke of Orleans,
was unwilling to contend. And it furnished occasion, without

102 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
any good reason, for new dissatisfaction with his wife. When
the day of trial came, after her usual religious duties, she felt it
her duty to take the unusual course of going personally to the
judges, and making her representations of the case before them.
" I was wonderfully assisted," she says, '' to understand and
explain the turns and artifices of this business. The judge
whom I first visited, was so surprised to see the affair so different
from what he thought it before, that he himself exhorted me to
see the other judges, and especially the Intendant, or presiding
judge, who was just then going to the Court, and was quite mis
informed about the matter. God enabled me to manifest the
truth in so clear a light, and gave such power to my words, that
the Intendant thanked me for having so seasonably come to
undeceive and set him to rights in the affair. He assured me,
that if I had not taken this course, the cause would have been
lost. And as they saw the falsehood of every statement, they
would not only have refused the plaintiff his claim, but would
have condemned him to pay the costs of the suit, if it had not
been for the position of the Duke of Orleans, who was so far led
astray by the plaintiff, as to lend his name and influence to
the prosecution. To save the honour of the prince, it was de
cided that we should pay the plaintiff fifty crowns ; so that his
claim of two hundred thousand livres was satisfied by the pay
ment of one hundred and fifty. Thus moderately and speedily
ended an affair, which at one time appeared very weighty and
alarming. My husband was exceedingly pleased at what I
had done."
Independently of the grace of God, which gave to her char
acter its crowning excellence, we have in some incidents of this
kind an evidence of what she was by nature, — of her clearness
of perception, firmness of purpose, and eloquence. She had a
mind formed by the God who made it to influence other minds.
It was only necessary to see her and to hear her, in order to
feel her ascendency, — not an ascendency derived from position,
but which carried its title in itself; — not an ascendency assumed,
but given.

OF MADAME GUYON. 103

CHAPTER XIV.
1674 — Commencement of her state of privation — Account of it — Method of proceeding, In
correctly estimating this part of her life. — Analysis and explanation of this state — Joy
not religion, but merely an incident — Remarks — Advice of Monsieur Bertot — Unfavour
able results— Advice of another distinguished Individual — Unkind treatment experienced
from him — Correspondence with a Jesuit — Remarks.
In the beginning of the year 1674, Madame Guyon entered'
into what she terms her state of privation or desolation. It
continued, with but slight variations, for something more than '
six years.
Her experience at this time was in some respects peculiar, so
much so as to require explanations at some length, both to make
it understood in itself, and in some degree profitable to others.
" I seemed to myself cast down," she says, " as it were, from a
throne of enjoyment, like Nebuchadnezzar, to live among beasts,
— a very trying and deplorable state, when regarded indepen
dently of its relations, and yet exceedingly profitable to me in
the end, in consequence of the use which Divine Wisdom made
of it. Considered in comparison with my former state of enjoy
ment, it was a state of emptiness, darkness, and sorrow, and
went far beyond any trials I had ever yet met with."
The desolation which she speaks of, particularly in its inci- '
pient state, was not a privation of desire, of hope, and of holy!
purpose, — but of sensible consolations. The Christian life, in
the highest sense of the term, is a life of faith. This is gene
rally admitted and understood ; but it does not appear to be
equally well understood, that to live by emotions, to draw our
activity and our hope from sensible joys, is to live by sight,
rather than by faith. Joy is not life, but merely an incidenij
of life.
God designed to make her His own, in the highest and fullest
Bense ; He wished her to possess the true life, the life unmingled
with any element which is not true ; a life which flows directly
and unceasingly from the Divine nature. And in order to do

104 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
this, it became with Him, if we may so express it, a matter of
necessity, that He should take from her every possible inward
support, separate and distinct from that of unmixed, naked faith.
"We walk by faith," says the Apostle, "and not by sight."
(2 Cor. v. 6, 7.) And again, " The life which I now live in
the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me,
and gave himself for me." (Gal. ii. 20.)
Accordingly, He so ordered it in His providences, that those
1 inward consolations, which had hitherto supported her so much
in her trials, should be taken away; except those which are
based upon the exercise of pure or simple belief in the Divine
word and character. The joys which arise from this source,
¦ although they may temporarily be perplexed and diminished by
counteracting influences, arise by a necessary and unchangeable
law, and can never fail to exist. But a large portion of her
inward consolations, as is generally the case at this period of
religious experience, arose from other causes and in other ways,
connected in some respects and to some extent, it is probable,
with the faith she possessed, but not directly based upon it. All
this God saw fit to take away. And not making the proper
distinctions in the case, and estimating her situation more by
what she had lost than by what she retained, it seemed to her,
that all peace, all consolation was gone. So far as joy was con
cerned, her heart was desolate.
( And this was not all. In this state of things, she committed
¦the great mistake of looking upon the absence of joy as evidence
. of the absence of the Divine favour. After mentioning that she
' was left without friends and other sources of consolation, she
adds, " To complete my distress, / seemed to be left without God
himself, who alone could support me in such a distressing state."
The mistake was an easy and perhaps a natural one, but it was
none the less a mistake vital in its principle and terrible in its
consequences. Since she had consecrated herself to the Lord
to be wholly His, God had been pursuing a course adapted to
secure her whole heart to Himself. He had tried her sometimes
in one direction, and sometimes in another, and through grace

OF MADAME GUYON. 105
had fonnd her faithful. But during all these trials she was sus
tained, with the exception of a few short intervals, by inward
consolations. There was, generally speaking, a high state of
pleasant and frequently of joyous emotionality. So that, instead
of living upon " every word which proceeds from God's month,"
in other words, instead of living upon God's will, which, what
ever may be thought to the contrary, is and can be the only true
bread of life, she was living upon her consolations. Strange it is, j
that we find it so difficult to perceive, that the joys of God are j
not God himself.
It is true, undoubtedly, that we may enjoy the will of God in
the joys of God ; that is to say, while we may take a degree of
satisfaction in the consolations themselves, we may rejoice in
them chiefly and especially as indicative of the Divine will. But)
in the earlier periods of Christian experience, we are much more
apt lo rejoice in our joys, than to rejoice in the God of our joys.
The time had come, in which God saw it necessary to take away
this prop on which she was resting, in some degree at least,
without knowing it.
She could love God's will, trying though it often was to her
natural sensibilities, when it was sweetened with consolations;
But the question now proposed to her was, whether she could
love God's will, when standing, as it were, alone, when develop
ing itself as the agent and minister of Divine providences which
were to be received, endured, and rejoiced in, in all their bitter
ness, simply because they were from God ?
This was a question which, under the circumstances of the
case, could not well be tested, except in connexion with that
state of inward aridity, which, in itself considered, cannot pro
perly be designated as. painful and still less as condemnatory,
but which is sometimes described as a lifeless or dead state ; —
that is to say, dead in respect to a particular kind or class of
emotions — a state which is without life in the sense of its being
unemotional. God's hand is in this result ; and it is well that
it should be so. As men may make a god of their own intellect,!
by being proud of their intellect ; or may make a god of their

106 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
; own will, by being proud of their will ; so they may make a god
of their joyous emotions, by taking a wrongly -placed pleasure in
them. And just so far as this is the case, God, in the exercise
of His gracious administration, takes away such emotions. He
turns their channels back ; He smites our earthly delights, and
opens the sources of providential sorrow, and overwhelms them,
and they disappear. And in doing this, Ho does not take away
men's religion, but rather takes away an idol ; or if that term
be too strong, He certainly takes away that which perplexes
and injures religion.
We hope we shall not be understood as denying or doubting
' the existence of true Christian joy. Certain it is, that there
¦ are true joys, joys which God approves, joys of faith, as well as
'¦ other joys. And we may add, I think, with great confidence,
that these joys exist by a necessary law. He who has faith has
the joys of faith; and what is more, he cannot help having them.
And not only this, he may justly regard them as an evidence or
sign of a good religious state. And as such a sign he may re
joice in his joys, as well as in the object of his joys, if he will
do it cautiously and wisely. But whenever, by an inward pro
cess, we rejoice in the joys of faith in themselves, and not as a
sign, instead of rejoicing in the objects of faith, such as God,
God's inherent goodness and holiness, God's promise, and the
like, caring in reality nothing about God and His approbation,
but only about the happiness He gives, thus placing the gifts
before the Giver, our experience is entirely upon a wrong track,
and will result soon, if it continue thus, in the destruction of
, faith itself.
In the case of Madame Guyon, it is very true, that the joys
of faith, sometimes more and sometimes less, remained with her
amid all her trials. But the joy which she took in her joy, in
distinction from the joy in the God of her joy, and also all othor
joys not founded in faith, were taken away. And so great
was the change, although ordered in the greatest mercy, that
she seemed to be like one smitten, cast out, and hopelessly deso
late ; like Nebuchadnezzar, as she expresses it, who was sud-

OF MADAME GUYON. 107
denly deprived of his power and his glory, and dwelt among
the beasts of the field. Sad condition, as it seemed to her ; and
in some respects, undoubtedly, it was very trying. Especially
when she regarded it as an evidence, as she did, that she had
committed some aggravated sins, although she did not under
stand what they were, and that God was displeased with her on
account of them. Having lost her consolations, she supposed
that she had lost all. Not being happy, or at least not so
happy as she had been, she concluded that she was not a Chris
tian, or at least not so much a Christian as she had been. And
this impression reacted upon her own mind, and rendered her
more unhappy still, and tended to increase the sad conviction,
that she had in some manner grievously offended God. j
She herself subsequently understood this. " I have learned,"
she says, " from this season of deprivation, that the prayer of the
heart, the earnest desire and purpose of the soul, to be and to
do what the Lord would have us, — when, in consequence of not
being attended with excited and joyous emotion, it appears most
dry and barren, — is nevertheless not ineffectual in its results,
and is not to be regarded as a prayer offered in vain. And all
persons would assent to this, if they would only remember, that
God, in answering such a prayer, gives us what is best for us,
though not what in our ignorance we most relish or wish for. If
people were but convinced of this great truth, far from com
plaining all their life long, they would regard the situation in
which God sees fit to place them, as best suited to them, and
would employ it faithfully in aiding the process of inward cruci
fixion. And hence the afflictive incidents attending upon such
a situation, in causing us inward death, would procure the true
life. It is a great truth, wonderful as it is undeniable, that all
our happiness, temporal, spiritual, and eternal, consists in one
thing, namely, in resigning ourselves to God, and in leaving
ourselves with Him, to do with us and in us just as He pleases.
" When we arrive at this state of entire and unrestricted de
pendence on God's Spirit and providence, we shall then fully
realize, that what we experience is just what we need, and that

108 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
if God is truly good, He could not do otherwise than He does.
All that is wanting is, to leave ourselves faithfully in God's
hands. The soul must submit itself to be conducted, from
moment to moment, by the Divine hand ; and to be annihilated,
as it were, by the strokes of His providence without complaining,
or desiring anything besides what it now has. If it would only
take this course faithfully, God would be unto it, not only
eternal Life, but eternal Truth. We should be guided into the
truth, so far as it might be necessary for us, although we might
not fully understand the method of its being done.
" But the misfortune," she adds, " is, that people wish to
' direct God, instead of resigning themselves to be directed by
Him. They wish to take the lead, and to follow in a way of
their own selection, instead of submissively and passively follow
ing where God sees fit to conduct them. And hence it is, that
many souls, who are called to the enjoyment of God himself, and
not merely to the gifts of God, spend all their lives in pursuing
and in feeding on little consolations ; resting in them as in their
place of delights, and making their spiritual life to consist in
them." These remarks were written — many years after the period to
which our attention is now particularly directed — to her surviv
ing children, after she had been the subject of persecution and
imprisonment for the Gospel's sake. " For you, my dear chil
dren," she adds, " if my chains and my imprisonment any way
afflict you, I pray that they may serve to engage you to seek
nothing but God for Himself alone, and never to desire to pos
sess Him but by the death of your whole selves. Never, as the
children of God, seek to be anything in your own ways and
life ; but rather to enter into the most profound nothingness."
But at this time, all seemed to her to be gone. And what
had a tendency to confirm her the more in these desponding
views, was the course taken by some, in whose opinions in respect
to her religious state, she naturally placed a considerable degree
of confidence. I refer, in part, to the mistaken but well-meant
course of Monsieur Bertot, a man of learning and piety, whom,

OF MADAME GUYON. 109
at the suggestion of Genevieve Granger, she had some time be
fore selected as her spiritual Director. She went to Paris to
consult him. His advice was, that she should begin anew her
religious efforts by practising those incipient methods of religious
reading and prayer, which were calculated to make a religious
impression, just as if she had either not known what religion
was, or did not now possess it.
This advice she was not disposed to receive, because there was
something in her which seemed to tell her that it was mistaken
advice, and not applicable to her case. Bertot, who was a con
scientious man, thinking that some other person might be more
judicious, or more successful, as her spiritual counsellor, wrote
to her that he wished to resign the office of her Director. This
course, on the part of one in whom she had so much confidence,
made a deep impression on the mind of Madame Guyon. She
says, " I had no doubt that God had revealed to him, that I had
become a transgressor ; and that he regarded the state of inward
desolation into which I had fallen, as a certain mark of my re
probation." She mentions another individual, who was probably one of
the Jansenists, — a party which at that time possessed much
influence in France, and has since been historically celebrated.
" He was a man," she says, " who held a high position in the
Church ; polite in his manners, obliging in his temper, and who
had a good share of talent." Pleased with Madame Guyon,
and desirous to bring her into harmony with himself on some
points of religious doctrine in which they seem to have differed,
he often visited her. This intimaoy was after a time broken
off, and he added himself to the number of those who at this
time formed and expressed unfavourable opinions in regard to
her state.
" The inability," she says, " I was now in, in consequence of
my discouragements and depression, of doing those exterior acts
of charity I had done before, served this person with a pretext
to publish that it was owing to him, and under his influence
and advice, that I had formerly done them. Willing to ascribe

110 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
to himself the merit of what God alone by His grace had en
abled me to do, he went so far as to make a distinct allusion to
me iu his sermons, as one who had once been a bright pattern
in religious things to others, but now had lost my interest in
them, and had become a scandal. I myself have been present
at such times, and what he said, noticed and understood as it
was by others, was enough to weigh me down with confusion.
I received what he said, however, with submission and patience,
believing as I did that God was offended with me, and that I
abundantly merited much worse treatment.
" Confused, like a criminal that dares not lift up his eyes, I
looked upon the virtue of others with respect. I could see more
or less of goodness in those around me, but in the obscurity and
sorrow of my mind I could seem to see nothing good, nothing
favourable in myself. When others spoke a word of kindness,
** and especially if they happened to praise me, it gave a severe
shock to my feelings, and I said in myself, ' They little know my
miseries ; they little know the state from which I have fallen.'
i And, on the contrary, when any spoke in terms of reproof and
condemnation, I agreed to it as right and just.
" It is true, that nature wanted to free herself from this ab
ject condition, but could not find out any way. If I made an
effort, if I tried to make an outward appearance of righteous
ness by the practice of some good thing, my heart in secret
rebuked me as guilty of hypocrisy, in wanting to appear what I
was not. And God, who thought it best that I should suffer,
did not permit anything of this kind to succeed. 0 how ex
cellent are the crosses of providence ! All other crosses are of
no value.
" I was often very ill and in danger of death ; and darkness
brooded upon the future as well as upon the present ; so that I
knew not how to prepare myself for that change, which some
times seemed near at hand. Some of my pious friends wrote
to me, requesting an explanation of some things, which the
gentleman, whom I have mentioned, spread abroad concerning
1 me ; but I had no heart to justify myself, and did not under-

OF MADAME GUYON. Ill
take to do it, although I knew myself innocent of unfavourable
things which were said. One day being in great desolation and
distress, I opened the New Testament, and chanced to meet with
these words, which for a little time gave me some relief, — My
grace is sufficient for thee ; for my strength is made perfect in
weakness." Even the pious Franciscan, whom God had employed as an
instrument in effecting her great moral and religious change,
was perplexed about her case, and. incapable of giving her any
profitable advice. With this individual she had kept up an
occasional correspondence at his request. In her inward depri
vation and sorrow, she received a letter which tended to increase
the discouragement she already experienced, and to add keen
ness to her pangs.
Another individual, a Jesuit, who had formerly held her piety
in high estimation, " wrote to me," she says, " in a similar strain.
No doubt, it was by the Divine permission, that they thus con
tributed to complete my desolation. I thanked them in my
reply, for the Christian and friendly interest they had taken in
me, and commended myself to their prayers. It was painful to
be thus unfavourably estimated by those who had the reputation
of being people of piety ; but there was a greater pain, which,
on the principle of contrast, made this pain appear to be less. I
refer to the deep sorrow I had experienced in connexion with the
thought of having displeased God."
These facts show us how little dependence we can safely place
on mere human judgments. On the principle on which these
persons judged Madame Guyon, what would have been thought
of hundreds and thousands of Christians, the most eminent for
their devotedness to God, who have been inwardly and out
wardly afflicted ? We ought not to forget, that here on earth .
Christianity is on the battle-field of its trials, — trials which are
often doubtful in their issue, — and not in the victorious repose
of the New Jerusalem. It may conquer, it is true ; and it may
" enter into rest;" but this does not imply, that the enemy will
not renew the contest, and that the reBt will not be disturbed.

112 LIFE AND RELIOIOUS EXPERIENCE
t We conquer in our armour ; and here on earth at least, we must
; rest, so far as rest is given us, with our armour on.

CHAPTER XV.
Events of the year 1670 — Sickness of her husband — His character — Their reconciliation —
His pious dispositions near the close of his life— His death — Occupied in the settlement
of her estate — Chosen as arbiter in a lawsuit — Result — Reference to her inward disposi
tions — Separation from her mother-in-law — Remarks.
This state of things continued for nearly two years. Years
do not pass, nor even days, without their character and their
incidents; sometimes bright with joy, but not less frequently
stained and dark with sorrow.
The physical infirmities of her husband increased ; and it
seemed to be obvious that the end of his life was rapidly ap
proaching. He seems to have been a man of considerable powers of
intellect, of energy of character, and of strong passions. He
was too high-spirited and proud, not to be jealous of his own
rights, and of his personal position and influence. He both loved
and hated strongly ; but both his love and his hatred were
characterized by sudden alternations of feeling. His feelings
towards his wife were of a mixed character. She says of him
expressly, notwithstanding the trials she experienced at his hand,
" he loved me much. When I was sick, he was inconsolable."
And she adds, making an exception undoubtedly of certain in
dividuals, who had insidiously obtained a control over him,
" Whenever he heard of other persons having made unfavourable
remarks in relation to me, he felt it keenly, and expressed him
self in terms of exceeding indignation. And I have great con
fidence, if it had not been for the unpropitious influence of his
mother and the maid-servant, we should have been very happy
in each other. Faults he had undoubtedly. And most men, I
suppose, have some defects of character, some undue passions ;

OF MADAME GUYON. 113
and it is the duty of a reasonable woman to bear them peace
ably, without irritating them by unkind or unsuitable opposition."
That he loved her, therefore, there can be no doubt. But his
affection, marked and passionate, was modified by a sense of in
tellectual inferiority humbling to his pride. Add to this the
disparity of their age, and the benevolence of heart which cha
racterized the one, and the habits of parsimony and acquisition,
bordering perhaps upon avarice, which seemed to characterize
the other. Again, the one was religious, a seeker of religion
when she married, and soon afterwards a possessor of it. The
other was without religion in experience, although he seems
always to have had some respect for it. The one loved God, the
other loved the world. It is not surprising, therefore, that his
mother, a woman of art and energy, should have been successful
in diminishing his affection for his wife, and for some short
periods of time, in totally perverting it.
When left to himself, he acknowledged and felt his wife's
ascendency. His pride in her, when it was permitted to take
that direction, added strength to his affection ; and at such times
he gave no ground of complaint by withholding the testimonies
of confidence and love. On some occasions, driven to a sort of
madness of exasperation, originating from the sources of influ
ence which have been mentioned, combined with the goadings
of physical suffering, he was unjust and cruel in a high degree.
But it is some satisfaction to know, that he had perception
enough, and love enough left, to acknowledge the wrong in his
better moments. In such a spirit, he made some conciliatory
remarks some years before, in his journey to St. Reine. " He
appeared very desirous," she says, " of having me attend him,
and was not willing to have any other. And he made the re
mark, referring to those who had afflicted me, if they were not
in the habit of speaking against you, I should be more satisfied
and easy, and you would be more happy."
As the clouds were gathering over him, and the sun of his
life seemed about to be setting, Madame Guyon felt that she
could no longer consistently or rightly submit to an interference
u

1 14 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
even on the part of his mother. She asserted her rights with
dignity and decision, as she might have done without any failure
of propriety at a much earlier period. Feeling that at this
solemn crisis there should be a full reconciliation between her
self and her husband, and that what remained of life to them
should be spent in a different manner, uninfluenced and un-
marred by others, she approached the matter of their differences,
not merely in the spirit of a woman and a wife, but in that also
of a Christian.
" I took some favourable opportunity," she says, " and draw
ing near his bed, I kneeled down ; and admitting that I pro
bably had done things which had displeased him, I assured him
that I had not wronged him in any case deliberately and inten
tionally. And, for whatever I had done amiss, under whatever
circumstances, I now begged his pardon. He had just awoke
from a sound sleep. Strong emotion deeply marked his counte
nance, and he said, 'It is I who have done wrong rather than
yourself. It is I who beg your pardon. I did not deserve you.' "
From this time he had his eye fully open to the arts practised
upon him. He felt that bo, who assumes the responsibility of
coming between husband and wife, and of disturbing their
happiness by alienating their affections, does an evil not more
terrible in its results, than malicious and morally reprehensible
in its character. It was her privilege to watch at his bedside
during the remainder of his days ; to wipe away the drops of
anguish from his brow ; and to speak words of Christian conso
lation to his dying heart. And she did this, when her own soul
was inwardly tried by the deepest fears and sorrows.
She advanced much afterwards in the knowledge of the
Scriptures and in Christian experience ; but even at this time,
and with all the perplexities and sorrows which weighed down
her mind, there can be no doubt, that her sympathy, advice, and
prayers were of unspeakable value. On a dying couch, such a
friend and adviser may justly be regarded as a special gift of
Heaven. For twenty-four days immediately preceding his death, she

OF MADAME GUYON. 115
scarcely loft his bedside. The alleviation of physical suffering
was not the only result of her watchings and labours. God was
pleased to bless them also to his spiritual good. In his last
clays, when all earthly prospects grew dark, the light of religion
began to open its dawning in the soul. In the mild radiance of
that light, feeble though it was, he died. He was resigned and
patient in his sickness ; and died, so far as could be judged, in
the exercise of truly Christian dispositions, after having received
the sacramental element in an humble and edifying manner. His,
death took place on the morning of the 21st of July 1676.
" I was not present," she says, " when he expired. Out of ten
derness to me, he had requested me to retire."
Thus her own person had been smitten ; and within a few ,
years she had seen her beloved son and daughter taken from
her, and her father and her husband, after short intervals, laid
in the grave. And she was a woman whose heart, from its first
young beat to its dying throb, gushed out with sensibility.
This was one of the marked traits of her character, which
existed naturally almost in excess. No daughter loved her
parents more tenderly ; no mother possessed more depth aud
sacredness of maternal affection ; no wife appreciated more fully
the sacred nature and the value of the conjugal relation. But
of those who sustained these invaluable relations, how many
were gone ! Like summer flowers, or like leaves of autumn,
they had fallen on her right hand and left. She stood alone ;
smitten within as well as without ; and without a single friend
to console her. But did she repine ? Did she indulge in a mur
muring spirit ?
So far from complaining and rebelling, she knew well the
hand of the Lord ; and her soul did not hesitate a moment to
bow in submission before it. It was not the sullenness of
despair, which yields because it cannot do otherwise ; but the
calmness of Christian submission and hope. She could say with
the Psalmist, in allusion to the ties of earth which had been
separated, however painful the process was to the natural affec
tions, " 0 Lord, truly I am thy servant ; I am thy servant, and

116 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
i the son of thy handmaid ; thou hast loosed my bonds ; I will offer
i to thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and ivill callupon\the name
! of the Lord" (Ps. cxvi. 16, 17). This was the passage of Scrip
ture which particularly occurred to her mind in connexion with
' these events. She knew, whatever trials might exist here, that
' there was a hidden mercy concealed beneath them ; and that
: a rest, pure and permanent, remains for the people of God.
I She was twenty-eight years of age when she was thus left a
widow, having been married twelve years and four mouths.
Having buried two of her children, she was now left, with three
\ others ; two sons, and an infant daughter, born but a few
'¦ months before tho death of her husband.
God may be regarded, in a special sense, as the friend and
father of the widow and the orphan. " The Lord," says the
Psalmist, " preserveth the stranger, and relieveth the fatherless
and the widow" (Ps. cxlvi. 9). The aspects of Providence, in
many respects, were dark before her, both within and without.
But God did not desert her ; and, in His goodness, which does
not " willingly grieve and afflict the children of men," He would
not desert her in her sorrowing state. She could say with the
apostle, " We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed ; we
are perplexed, but not in despair ; persecuted, but not for
saken ; cast down, but not destroyed ; always bearing about
in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of
Jesus might be made manifest in our body " (2 Cor. iv. 8-10).
Unshaken in her Christian integrity, true to the altar of sacri
fice on which she had placed herself, her first and great inquiry
now, as it had been in times past, was, " Lord, what wilt thou
have me to do?"
She seemed to have an inward conviction that tho time had
nearly come in God's providence, when she would be enabled to
devote herself exclusively to the cause of religion. But she
knew that God does not require of us duties contradictory in
their nature ; and that her first cares and labours were especi
ally due to her family.
The administration of a large estate devolved, in a consider-

OF MADAME GUYON. 117
able degree, upon herself. This was the first business to which
Providence, whose indications she regarded with groat care,
seemed to lead her. She says, " I had received no training in
matters of business, and was in a great degree ignorant of them.
But being called in the Divine providence to attend to this
matter, I received from God that strength and wisdom which
were necessary for the occasion. I believe that I omitted no
thing which it was necessary or proper for me to do. I arranged
all my husband's papers ; I paid all the legacies which he re
quired to be paid ; and did all without assistance from any one,
excepting always that Divine assistance which God never failed
to give me, whenever He imposed any special burden.
" My husband," she adds, " had a large amount of writings
and papers of various kinds left with him, to which other per
sons had a right. These also required my attention. I took an
exact inventory of them ; and had them sent severally to their
owners, which, without Divine assistance, would have been very
difficult for me ; because, my husband having been a long time
sick, everything was in the greatest confusion. This circum
stance, which naturally arrested the attention of the persons to
whom the papers were sent, gained me the reputation of a woman
of skill in business — a reputation to which I regarded myself as
having but very little claim. Another affair, which occurred at
this time, added to this favourable impression."
There were a number of persons in the neigbourhood where
her husband resided, who fell into a dispute in relation to a piece
of property. And not being able to settle it, they chose, rather
than to bring it before the courts, to refer it to him. As he was
acquainted with most of these persons, and had a particular
esteem for some of them, he took charge of the business, although
not very appropriate to his situation and his mental habits.
There were no less than twenty-two persons concerned in this
affair, which rendered it one of considerable delicacy and per
plexity. Either for want of time, or distrusting his ability to
settle the dispute alone, he employed some persons skilled in
the law, to assist him in the examination of the papers, which

118 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
were laid before him, and to aid him in forming a just opinion.
It was at this stage of the business that he died.
" After his death," she says, " I sent for the persons who were
concerned, and proposed to return them their papers. They
were troubled, anticipated the greatest evils, and perhaps the
ruin of some of their number, if a settlement of the difficulties
could not be had. In this state of things they proposed to me
to take the place of my deceased husband, and to act as judge
between them. A proposition, apparently so impracticable and
absurd, could not have been entertained for a moment, had it not
been for the urgency and the real necessities of the parties con
cerned. This gave to the proposition the aspect of a Christian
duty. I laid it before the Lord ; and relying on His strength
and wisdom, felt it my duty to try. I found it necessary to give
my mind fully to the business, which I had thus, as it seemed
to me with the Divine approbation, voluntarily assumed. And
accordingly, laying aside all other business, I shut myself up in
my closet about thirty days, not going out at all except to my
meals and to religious worship. All this time was necessary in
order to understand the merits of the case. I at length com
pleted the examination, formed my final opinion upon the sub
ject, and drew it up in writing. The parties were summoned
together ; and without reading it or knowing what my decision
was, they accepted it and signed it. I afterwards learned that
they were so well pleased with what I had done, that they not
only commended it much, but published it abroad everywhere.
The hand of the Lord was in it. It was God who gave me
wisdom. So ignorant was I then, and so ignorant am I now, of
affairs of this nature, that when I hear persons conversing about
them, it appears to me like Arabic."
At this period, and during a number of years, her life, con
sidered in its outward relations, was retired, domestic, and in
many respects quiet. The time had not come which was destined
to open to her the path of more public duty. Inxoardly she was
still desolate. Her sorrow was unappeasable. But though it
seemed to her that God had left her, she acknowledged fully the

OF MADAME GUYON. 119
rectitude of all His dealings, and felt that she could not leave [
Him. She followed Him in tears like the Syrophenician
woman. After the death of her husband she made some attempts to
wards a reconciliation with her mother-in-law. On the follow
ing Christmas-day, in particular, she approached her, and said
to her with much affection, " My mother, on this day was the
King of Peace born. He came into the world to bring peace to
us. I beg peace of you in His name." But her stern heart
was unmoved ; or, if it were otherwise, she would not let it
appear. The question then arose whether she should leave her.
A number of persons in whom she placed confidence advised her
earnestly to do it, believing as they did that she had already
suffered enough from that source. She had doubts about it.
She was fearful of offending God by desiring to throw off a
cross, heavy though it was, which it seemed to her that Divine
wisdom imposed upon her. Undoubtedly she was correct. But
the same Providence which imposed this cross upon her, in its
own time removed it. In the winter of 1677, the winter follow
ing the death of her husband, and a few weeks after the con
versation to which we have just now referred, her mother-in-law
gave her notice, in express terms, that they could no longer live-
together. " This," says Madame Guyon, " was fairly giving me my dis
charge. My scruples were now removed. I took measures to
retire from the house where we had resided together, as quietly
as possible, as I did not wish to give occasion for surmises and
evil remarks. During the period of my widowhood thus far, I
had not made any visits, except such as were of pure necessity
and charity. I did not wish to speak of my troubles to others,
or to make them known in any way. God had taught me to
go to Him alone. Tliere is nothing which makes nature die so
deeply and so quickly, as to find and to seek no earthly support,
no earthly consolation. I went out, therefore, from my mother-
in-law in silence. In the cold of mid-winter, when it was diffi
cult to obtain suitable accommodation elsewhere, I went out to

120 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
seek another habitation, with my three surviving children, and
my little daughter's nurse."
We leave her mother-in-law here. The Scripture says in lan-
j guage, which has a true and mighty meaning to the holy heart,
" Judge not, that ye be not judged." There is a God above us,
who is not ignorant of those weaknesses, temptations, and sor
rows, existing in every heart, which are known to Him only.
Until we have the attribute of omniscience, which is requisite
for a perfectly just judgment, let us never condemn others, how
ever defective their characters may be, without leaving a large
place for pity and forgiveness. Such, I think, were obviously
the feelings of Madame Guyon in relation to this unhappy mat
ter. For more than twelve years her mother-in-law had em
bittered her domestic life. But she did not fail to recognise the
hand of the Lord in it. She was led to see, that God, who
accomplishes His purposes by instruments, made use of the
jealousy and fierceness of her mother's temper to humble and
purify her own lofty spirit. God educed her good out of another's
evil. It was a mystery which she could adore and love, although
she could not fully understand it. She went out, therefore, in
silence ; with tears, but without rebukes.

CHAPTER XVI.
Her charities— Incident illustrative — Education of her children — Attempts to improve her
own — Study of Latin — Continuance of inward desolation — Temptations — Writes to Lu
Oomhe — Receives a favourable answer — July 22, 1G8G, tho day of her deliverance after
nearly seven years of inward privation — Reference to her work, the " Torrents" — Remarks
— Poem.
Established once more in her own residence, with her little
family around her, she lived a life more retired than ever. " I
went," she says, " after no fine sights or recreations. When
others went, I stayed at home. I wanted to see and know nothing
but Jesus Christ. My closet, where I could contemplate Divino

OF MADAME GUYON. 121
things, was my only diversion. The Queen of France was at
one time in my neighbourhood ; but my mind was so taken up
with other things, that she had not attraction enough to draw
me out with the multitude to see her."
But retirement from the world is not necessarily retirement
from duty. In her widowhood and seclusion, she did not cease
to sympathize with the poor and the afflicted. Her own heart
was desolate ; but it was not in personal afflictions to make her
forget that others also had their sorrows. As she turned her
mind upon her own situation, and as she looked upon her father
less children, she remembered the widow and the orphan. Still
she had less energy in works of outward benevolence than at
some former periods. But this was not owing to a change of
principle or a want of pity; but is to be ascribed partly to
feebleness of health, and partly to a state of inward desolation.
Her strength, not only her physical vigour but her energy of
purpose, was in some degree broken ; but the true life, which
burns without being consumed, still remained in it.
One day a domestic told her that there was a poor soldier
lying in the public road, sick, and apparently unable to help
himself. She gave orders that he should be brought in. He
was one of those wrecks of humanity,- ragged, unclean, and de
based, who appear to be without home and without friends, and
whom no one pities but that God who watches all men, and in
spires pity in the hearts of those who are like Himself. For
fifteen days she watched over him, with all the care and assi
duity of a mother or sister ; performing offices repugnant to a
person of her refinement of feelings and manners. This was his
last earthly hahitation. He died at her house.
At this period she felt herself called to give some special
attention to the education of her children. On the subject of
early education, and especially on the influence of mothers in
the forming of the intellectual and moral habits of children, she
had bestowed much thought. To a reflecting mind like hers,
this important subject would be very likely to suggest itself;
especially when she recollected, as she often did, the loss and

122 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
injury which she herself had experienced in early life, from
inattention in this respect. At that time the subject of early
education, especially in its relation to those of her own sex, was
comparatively new ; a subject which, since her time, beginning
with the valuable and interesting work of Fenelon on Female
Education, has been discussed, analyzed, and applied with the
most successful results. In her Autobiography, she has given
some views on the treatment of children, particularly of daugh
ters, characterized by close observation and sound judgment.
She embraced the opportunity, which Providence now seemed
to afford her, to revise and extend the elements of her own edu
cation. Light literature, including romances and poetry, ad
dressed chiefly to the natural, in distinction from the religious
tastes, she had laid aside years before. Her reading was limited,
for the most part, to the Bible, and works designed to elucidate
the Bible, and man's character, his continual need of Divine
grace, and his growth in the religious life. Many works on
these subjects, which from her position in the Roman Catholic
Church she would be inclined to consult, were originally writ
ten in the Latin language. Under these circumstances, she
commenced and prosecuted the study of the Latin, without per
haps distinctly foreseeing of how much benefit it would be to
her iu her future inquiries and writings. But here, as every
where else, God, who guides us in a way we know not, was pre
paring her, in what she was called to do, as well as in what she
was called to suffer, to accomplish. His own will.
During the three years immediately preceding the death of
her husband, and something more than the three years imme
diately subsequent to it, namely, from 1G73 to 1G80, she endured
without cessation the pains of inward and of outward crucifixion.
One source of the suffering which she experienced, in this season
of privation or desolation, was, that notwithstanding the conse
cration of herself to God, she experienced heavy an4 direct
temptations to commit sin. Terrible at times must have been
her mental conflicts. Her language (impossible, it is true, in
its application, but still strongly expressive of her feelings) was,

OF MADAME GUYON. ' 123
that she would rather endure the sorrows of eternal banishment
from God's presence, than knowingly sin against Him.
" Under these circumstances," she says, " I felt the truth of
what thou hast said, 0 my God, that thou judgest our righte
ousness 1 0 how pure, how holy art thou 1 Who can compre
hend it ? I was led to see, one after another, the secret ties
which bound me to earth ; and which God, after He had brought
them to my notice, was successively cutting asunder. All inor
dinate interest which I had taken in created things (that is to
say, all interest in them out of God, and out of their true rela
tions and true degree) was gradually taken away. It was thus
that the process of inward crucifixion, often severely trying me,
went steadily on.
" 0 holy Jesus I " she exclaims, in looking back upon what
she then passed through, "/ was that lost sheep of Israel whom
thou didst come to save. Thou didst come to save her, who
could find no salvation out of thee. 0 ye stout and righteous
men I speak as much, and as proudly as you please, of the
value and excellence of what you have done for God's glory.
As for me, I glory only in my infirmities, since they have merited
for me such a Saviour.
"Loaded with miseries of all sorts," she proceeds, " weighed
down with the burden of continual crosses, I at last gave up
hope. The darkness of an eternal night settled upon my soul.
God seemed to have forsaken me. But thanks be to His grace,
my heart bowed in entire and holy submission. Lost as I
seemed to myself to be, I could not cease to love.
" Believing, as I did, in the strange position of my mind, that
I could never again be acceptable to God, and never be received
by Him, I distinctly and fully recognised His justice and good
ness, and could not repress the longing desire I had to do some
thing, or to suffer something, to promote His glory. I could
praise the Dame of the Lord out of the depths, to which no lower
deep seemed possible."
Finding no satisfactory relief from others, she wrote to Francis
de la Combe. The special occasion of her writing was this : —

124 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
One of the male domestics in her family, becoming interested
in religious subjects, was desirous of connecting himself with the
Barnabites. He naturally consulted Madame Guyon on the
subject ; and she was advised by her half-brother, La Mothe,
to write to La Combe, who, as Superior of the Barnabites at
Thonon, in Savoy, could undoubtedly give them all the requisite
information and advice.
" I had always retained for him a secret respect and esteem as
one who was truly devoted to God, and I was pleased with this
opportunity of recommending myself to his prayers. I gave him
an account of my depression and sorrow of mind, and of what I
then supposed to be the case, that God no longer took pleasure
in me, but had separated Himself from me."
Father La Combe was a man of ability as well as of personal
inward experience. He took a view of her case entirely dif
ferent from that taken by others. His experience enabled him
at once to make a distinction between sorrow and sin ; and to
reject the opinion she had formed, that the griefs she experi
enced were an evidence of her having oifended God. On the
contrary, he took the ground, that she ought to regard these
afflictions as an evidence of the goodness and mercy of God, who
was thus painfully but kindly removing the earthly props on
which her spirit had leaned. This view, so entirely different
from the opinions entertained at this time by herself, could not
fail to give her some encouragement, although she was not as
yet able fully to receive it.
, The correspondence with Father La Combe, kept up at inter
vals for many years, commenced early in the year 1680. About
i the middle of July she wrote to him a second time, and made
the particular request, that, if he received it before the 22d of
July, a day memorable in her religious history, he would make
her the subject of special supplication. The letter arrived,
although the place of its destination was quite distant, the day
before tho time specified. And the person to whom it was ad
dressed had too much piety and too deep a sense of his obliga
tions to the author of it, to suffer a request, offered in such an

OF MADAME GUYON. 125
humble and sorrowing spirit, to pass unheeded. It was a day of |
prayer both with him and with her. It was a day also of the
hearing of prayer. The sceptre of mercy was extended. On
that favoured day, after nearly seven years of inward and out
ward desolation, the cloud which had rested so dark and deeply
passed away, and the light of eternal glory settled upon her
soul. She was led for the first time to see, under the intimations of
the Holy Spirit, that all things were just the reverse of what
she had supposed, — that affliction is mercy in disguise, that we
possess by first being deprived, that death precedes life, that
destruction in the spiritual experience turns to renovation, that
out of the sorrows and silence of inward crucifixion, and from
no other source, must grow the jubilees of everlasting bliss.
God was given back ; and all things with Him. All sights and
sounds, all beauties of heaven and of earth, the trees and flowers
below, and the stars of heaven in their places, and social plea
sures and earthly friendships, whatever the intellect could per
ceive or the heart could relish, — she could enjoy them all, in
their appropriate place and degree, because, in her victory over
self, she was enabled to place and appreciate them in their true
and Divine relation, — all in God, and God in all.
" On the 22d of July 1G80, that happy day," she says, " my
soul was delivered from all its pains. From the time of the first
letter from Father La Combe, I began to recover a new life. I
was then, indeed, only like a dead person raised up, who is in
the beginning of his restoration, and raised up to a life of hope
rather than of actual possession ; but on this day I was restored,
as it were, to perfect life, and set wholly at liberty. I was no
longer depressed, no longer borne down under the burden of
sorrow. I had thought God lost, and lost for ever ; but I found
Him again. And He returned to me with unspeakable magni
ficence and purity.
" In a wonderful manner, difficult to explain, all that which
had been taken from me, was not only restored, but restored with
increase and with new advantages. In thee, 0 my God, I found

12G LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
it all, and more than all ! The peace which I now possessed
was all holy, heavenly, inexpressible. What I had possessed
some years before, in the period of my spiritual enjoyment, was
consolation, peace — the gift of God rather than tho Giver; but
now, I was brought into such harmony with the will of God,
that I might now be said to possess not merely consolation, but
the God of consolation ; not merely peace, but the God of peace.
This true peace of mind was worth all that I had undergone,
although it was then only in its dawning.
" Sometimes, it is true, a sad suggestion presented itself, —
that the life of nature might, in some way, reinstate itself. So
that there was a wakeful spirit within me. I watched; and was
enabled, by Divine grace, to meet and repel the approaches of
evil in that direction. In this renovated state, I felt no disposi
tion to attribute anything to myself. Certainly it was not I
myself who had fastened my soul to the Cross, and under the
operations of a providence, just but inexorable, had drained, if I
may so express it, the blood of the life of nature to its last drop.
I did not understand it then ; but I understood it now. It was
the Lord that did it. It was God that destroyed me, that He
might give me the true life."
In one of her books on religious experience, entitled the
" Torrents," in which she endeavours to describe the progress
of the soul towards God, illustrating the subject by torrents
taking their rise in hills and mountain tops, and rolling onward
towards the ocean, she has given her views of the process of in
ward crucifixion, derived from her own experience. It should,
in fact, be regarded as a statement of what she herself passed
through ; and ought to be read, in connexion with, and as illus
trative of what she has said, on the same subject, in her Life.
In giving her views on particular subjects, I have not limited
myself to her remarks made at a particular time, but have, in
order to give her precise views, combined statements made at
different times and at different places of her works.
And it is in accordance with these views that 1 think we may
properly introduce here one of her poems.

OF MADAM.1, GUYON.

127

THE DEALINGS OF GOD, OR THE DIVINE LOVE IN BRINGING THE
SOUL TO A STATE OF ABSOLUTE ACQUIESCENCE.

'Twas my purpose, on a day,
To embark and sail away.
As I climb'd the vessel's side,
Lovb wag sporting in the tide ;
" Come." Ho said, — " ascend — make haste.
Launch Into the boundless waste."
Many mariners were there.
Having each his separate care;
They, that row'd us, held their eyes
Flx'd upon tho starry hit les;
Others stecr'd or lurn'd the sails
To receive the shifting gales.
Love, with power Divine supplied,
Suddenly my courage tried ;
In a moment It was night,
Ship and skies were out of eight ;
On the briny wave I lay,
Floating rushes all my stay.
Did I with resentment burn
At this unexpected turn ?
Did I wish myself on shore,
Never to forsake it more ?
No — " My soul" I cried, " be still;
If I must be lost, I will."
Next He basten'd to convey
Both my frail supports away ;
Seized my rushes; bade the waves
Yawn into a thousand graves.
Down I went, and sank as lead,
Ocean closing o'er my head
Still, however, lifo was safe ;
And I naw Him turn and laugh :
" Friend," He cried, " adieu ! lie low,
"While tho wintry storms shall blow ;
When the spring has calm'd the main,
You shall rise, and float again."

Soon I saw Him with dismay
Spread His plumes, and soar away :
Now I mark III-* rapid flight ;
Now He leaves my aching sight :
He is gone whom I adore,
'Tis in vain to seek Him more.
How I trembled then and fear'd.
When my Lovr bad disappear'd !
" Wilt thou leave me thus," I cried,
" Whelm'd beneath the rolling tide ?"
Vain attompt to reach Ilia ear !
Love was gone, and would not hear.
Ah ! return and love me still ;
See me subject to thy will ;
Frown with wrath, or smile with grace.
Only let me see thy face !
Evil I have none to fear ;
All is good, if Thou art near.
Yet He leaves me, — cruel fate !
Leaves me in my lost estate ;
Have I sinn'd ? Oh, say wherein ?
Tell mo, and forgive my sin !
King, and Lord, whom I adore,
Shall I see thy face no more ?
Be not angry — I resign
Henceforth all my will to thine.
I consent that Thou depart,
Though thine absence breaks my heart.
Go then, and for ever, too ;
All is right that Thou wilt do.
This was just what Love Intended:
He was now no more offended;
Soon as I became a child,
Love return' d to me and smiled.
Never strife shall more betide
'Twuvt the Bridegroom and His bride.

128 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE

CHAPTER XVII.
Sanctification as compared with justification — The importance of striving after it — State of
Madame Guyon at this time — Her work, "The Torrents" — Some sentiments from it
descriptive of her own experience — Singular illustration, by which she shows the differ
ence between common Christians and others — The depth of the experience implied in
true sanctification — The question whether all must endure the same amount of suffering
in experiencing sanctification — Poem.
Theologians veiy properly make a distinction between justi-
' fication and sanctification. The two great moral and religious
elements, namely, entire self-renunciation and entire faith in
God through Jesus Christ, are involved in both of these religi
ous experiences, and give to them a close relationship ; without,
however, confounding them and making them one. They are
related to each other, without ceasing to be separate.
Justification, while it does not exclude the present, has special
> reference to the past. Sanctification, subsequent to justification
in the order of nature, has exclusive reference to the present and
future. Justification inquires, How shall the sin, which is past,
be forgiven ? Sanctification inquires, How shall we be kept
from sin at the present time and in time to come ? Justification,
in its result upon individuals, removes the condemnatory power
or guilt of sin ; while sanctification removes the power of sin
1 itself. No man can be a Christian who is not justified. But no in
telligent Christian can rest satisfied with justification alone.
" He hungers and thirsts after righteousness." He, who pro
fesses to be a Christian, and yet has not this hungering and
thirsting after a heart that is sanctified, has no good reason to
believe that he has ever known the blessedness of a heart that
is justified. " By their fruits," says the Saviour, " ye shall know
them." Sanctification is the fruit.
i A sanctified heart is only another expression for a holy heart
— a heart from which selfishness is excluded, which loves God
with all its power of love. From this time, Madame Guyon
professed to love God with such love.

OF MADAME GUYON. 129
Whether we call this state of experience pure love or perfect
love, whether we denominate it sanctification or assurance of
faith, is perhaps not very essential. Certain it is, that it seemed
to her, without professing or presuming to be beyond the possi
bility of mistake, that she loved her heavenly Father, in accord
ance with what the Saviour requires of us, with her whole power ¦
of loving. And accordingly she could no longer hesitate to;
apply to herself some of the strongest expressions, descriptive of
the inward life, which are found in the Scriptures. She could
say, with the apostle, " I live ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in
me ; and the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the
faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for
me" (Gal. ii. 20). She understood, as she never did before,
the import of the same apostle in the eighth chapter of Romans :
" There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in
Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit ;
for the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me
free from the law of sin and death" (Rom. viii. 1, 2). She,
who a short time before believed herself outcast, had now the
faith and the courage — a courage based upon faith and adorned
with the deepest humility — to appropriate the beautiful conclu
sion of the same chapter, " I am persuaded that neither death,
nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things
present, nor things to come, nor lieight, nor depth, nor any other
creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which
is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (ver. 38, 39).
The Torrents is obviously a work drawn chiefly from her own
experience. In the latter part of it, she describes the state of
her mind at this period, without, however, any distinct reference
to herself, except that she occasionally speaks in the first per
son, as if forgetting for a moment the style of narration which
she had adopted.
" Great was the change which I had now experienced ; but
still, in my exterior life, I appeared to others quite simple, un
obtrusive, and common. And the reason was, that my soul was
not only brought into harmony with itself and with God, but
i

130 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
with God's providences. In the exercise of faith and love, I
endured and performed whatever came in God's providence, in
submission, in thankfulness, and silence. I was now in God
and God in me ; and where God is, there is as much simplicity
as power. And what I did was done in such simplicity and
childlikeness of spirit, that the world did not observe anything
which was much calculated to attract notice.
" I had a deep peace which seemed to pervade the whole soul,
and resulted from the fact, that all my desires were fulfilled in
God. I feared nothing ; that is, considered in its ultimate re
sults and relations, because my strong faith placed God at the
head of all perplexities and events. I desired nothing but what
I now had, because I had a full belief that, in my present state
of mind, the results of each moment constituted the fulfilment of
the Divine purposes. As a sanctified heart is always in harmony
with the Divine providences, I had no will but the Divine will,
of which such providences are the true and appropriate expres
sion. How could such a soul have other than a deep peace, not
limited to the uncertainties of the emotional part of our nature,
but which pervaded and blessed the whole mind I Nothing
seemed to diminish it ; nothing troubled it.
" I do not mean to say that I was in a state in which I could
i not be afflicted. My physical system, my senses, had not lost
the power of suffering. My natural sensibilities were suscep
tible of being pained. Oftentimes I suffered much. But in the
centre of tho soul, if I may so express it, there was Divine and
supreme peace. The soul, considered in its connexion with the
objects immediately around it, might at times be troubled and
, afflicted ; but the soul, considered in its relation to God and the
Divine will, was entirely calm, trustful, and happy. The trouble
at the circumference, originating in part from a disordered physi
cal constitution, did not affect and disturb the Divine peace of
the centre.
" One characteristic of this higher degree of experience was a
sense of inward purity. My mind bad such a oneness with God,
such a unity with the Divine nature, that nothing seemed to

OF MADAME GUYON. 131
have power to soil it and to diminish its purity. It experienced
the truth of that declaration of Scripture, that ' to the pure all
things are pure.' The pollution which surrounds, has no power
upon it ; as the dark and impure mud does not defile the sun
beams that shine upon it, which rather appear brighter and
purer from the contrast.
" But though I was so much blessed, I was not conscious of
any merit, nor tempted by any suggestions of merit in myself.
Indeed, I seemed to be so united with God, so made one with
the centre and sum of all good, that my thoughts did not easily
turn upon myself as a distinct object of reflection ; and, con
sequently, it would not have been an easy thing for me to attach
to myself the idea of merit. If I had done virtuously and meri
toriously by a laborious effort, the idea of merit would more
naturally and readily have suggested itself, and I might have
been tempted to indulge thoughts of that kind. But now that
God had become the inward operator, and every movement was
a movement originating, as it were, in a Divine inspiration, and
as a holy life had become as natural to me as the life of nature
formerly had been, I could not well attribute to myself what
evidently belonged to God. To Him, and to Him only, to His
goodness and His grace, I attributed all worthiness, all praise.
" It was one of the characteristics of my experience at this
time, that I could not move myself, or bring myself into action,
from the principle of self, because self was gone. I stood silent
and unmoved in the midst of God's providences, until the time
of movement came, which was indicated by these providences.
Then I decided, when God called me to decide, and with God to
help me to decide.
" From this time, I found myself in the enjoyment of liberty.
My mind experienced a remarkable facility in doing and suffer
ing everything which presented itself in the order of God's pro
vidence. God's order became its law. In fulfilling this law, it
experienced no inward repugnance, but fulfilled its own highest
wishes, and therefore could not but be conscious of the highest
inward liberty. When the soul loses the limit of selfishness, —

132 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
a limit which fixes the soul in itself, — it has no limit but in
God, who is without limits. What limit, then, can be placed to
the length and breadth of its freedom ?
" I regard the deprivations and the sufferings of Job, and his
subsequent restoration to prosperity and to the manifestations of
the Divine favour, as a history which illustrates, as if in a mirror,
the process of inward death and inward resurrection which is
experienced by those who arrive at the state of full interior
transformation. God first took away everything, and then re
stored everything, as it were, a hundred-fold. And so in the
inward life. Our worldly possessions, our property, our influence,
our reputation, our health, are taken away, if God sees it neces
sary ; He then smites our domestic and other affections, which
have persons for their objects rather than things, either by
smiting and withering the affections in themselves, or in the ob
jects to which they are attached. He then proceeds to crucify
the subject of the Divine operation, to any attachment to and
reliance on his outward works as a ground of merit and accept
ance. In its death to everything where self reigns instead of
God, the mind dies also to any sense of its own inward exercises
and virtues, so far as they are a ground of self-gratulation and
complacency. Nor does this process stop, till the life of nature,
which consists in inordinate attachments, is entirely extermi
nated. But the soul cannot live without a lifo of some kind.
I There are but two, and can be but two principles of moral life
in the universe ; one, which makes ourselves, or the most limited
private good, the centre ; the other, which makes God, who
may be called the Universal Good, the centre. When self dies
in the soul, God lives ; when self is annihilated, God is en
throned. " In this state of mind I did not practise the virtues as virtues.
That is to say, I did not make them distinct objects of contem
plation, and endeavour to practise them, as a person generally
does in the beginnings of the Christian life, by a separate and
constrained effort. I seemed to practise them naturally, almost
instinctively. Tho effort, if I had made one, would have been

OF MADAME GUYON. 133
to do otherwise. It was my life to do them. Charity, sincerity,
truth, humility, submission, and every other virtue, seemed to be
involved in my present state of mind, arid to make a part of it ;
being, each in its appropriate place, an element of life."
Christians in a higher state of religious experience, those
especially who are in a state of assured faith and love, may be
compared to fountains which flow out of themselves. In the lan
guage of the Saviour, the water which is in them is a " well of
water springing up to everlasting life." It is true, that, like the
waters of Siloa, which came from the sides of Mount Zion, and
which were pleasing to God and to His people, they generally
flow softly; but they flow abundantly and constantly. Nor is it
a small thing, that they do not flow in artificial channels, which
men's hands have cut for them, but in those which God has
appointed ; " at their own sweet will," as some one has ex
pressed it, and yet in reality without any will of their own. And
bearing life to others, as well as having life in themselves, the
trees grow and flowers bloom on their banks ', and when the
weary traveller comes there, he finds the cooling shade above, as
well as the refreshing draught beneath.
The work of sanctification, wherever it exists, is a work which
enters deeply into our nature. Neither reason, nor experience,
nor Scripture, authorizes us to speak of it, when it truly exists,
as a superficial work ; that is to say, a work near the surface and
easy to be done. It is not the application of something which
alters and polishes the outside merely. It is not, properly
speaking, a remodelling and improvement of the old nature, so
much as a renovation.
Some things go under the name of sanctification, to which
that term is not strictly applicable. The man of whom the
Saviour speaks in the Gospel, could say, very truly, " I fast
twice in the week; I give tithes of all I possess." Many per
sons who have subjected themselves to the greatest outward
austerities, have complained that they did not experience that
communion and acceptance with God, which they had antici
pated.

134 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Some persons, in addition to the rectification of the outward
nature, have had a degree and kind of inward experience which
is truly remarkable. It is not an experience, which, properly
speaking, can be described as sanctification ; but is sometimes
taken for it. These persons have been much exercised on the
subject of a holy life ; they have experienced much anxiety in
regard to it ; and in consequence of the new views they have
had, and the inward victories they have obtained, have been
the subjects of a high degree of joy. Sometimes the joy, owing
in part, I suppose, to some peculiarities of mental character,
is sudden, intense, overwhelming. They suppose themselves
wholly and for ever conquerors. Not being in a situation fully
to analyze their feelings, it is not wonderful that they make
mistakes, and ascribe wholly to grace what is partly due to
nature ; attributing to religion what belongs to physical or
selfish excitement. Experience often shows that the sanctifica
tion which they profess under such circumstances, has not those
elements of kindness, of forbearance and meekness, of permanent
faith and of inward subjection and nothingness, which are ne
cessary to characterize it as true. It is a sanctification evidently
limited and imperfect, because it was not able to reach and
subdue that terrible refuge and fortress of evil, the natural
will. If these views are correct, they tend to diminish very much
the clanger sometimes supposed to attend this subject, which, in
a few words, is this. If we allow the possibility of sanctification
' in the present life, we shall, from time to time, find persons
who will profess this blessing, without possessing it ; a mistake
which cannot well exist without being more or less injurious.
The same danger attends the doctrine, that we may possess reli
gion in any degree whatever short of sanctification. A man may
profess religion without possessing it, and the mistake may be
very injurious. And in all cases whatever, where the profession
is not accordant with the reality, those evils cannot fail to fol
low which are naturally attendant upon error.
But if sanctification is so thoroughly explorative and renovat-

OF MADAME GUYON. 135
ing, and if it be generally understood to be what it really is, /
people will be cautious in making the profession. At least, if
the profession is falsely made, the error will easily be detected.
He, to whom the grace of sanctification can be truly ascribed, is
one with Christ — a man meek, contented, benevolent, and de
voutly acquiescent in whatever bears the stamp of providence —
a man who goes hither and thither on errands of wisdom and
mercy, without tumult and noise ; doing good to others without
asking or expecting return ; in his spirit, where the Holy Ghost
dwells, divinely peaceful, because he is in harmony with God*
Such a man, on his lips, his countenance, his actions, his life,
has a Divine seal.
There is one question which naturally arises here. Is it .abso
lutely necessary to undergo all which Madame Guyon passed
through, in order to experience these results ? I think that this
question may properly be answered in the negative. Some resist
the operation of God, because they are afraid of God ; some, be
cause in the process of the inward operation they do not under
stand what He is doing and to what He is tending ; and still
more because they love the world and the things of the world,
more than they love God and the things of God. Resistance on
the part of the creature, from whatever cause it may arise, im
plies and requires aggressive acts of trial, infliction, and reproof,
on the part of Him whose right it is to rule. And the greater
the resistance, the greater must be the blow which aims to sub
due it. Those who resist much, will suffer much.
" Some persons are not brought to this state of freedom from
the world and of union with God, without passing through
exceeding afflictions, both external and internal. And this
happens partly through ignorance, and partly and more gene
rally through self-will. They are slow to learn what is to be
done, and equally reluctant to submit to its being done. God
desires and intends that they shall be His ; but they still love
the world. They would perhaps be pleased to have God for
their portion ; but they must have something besides God.
They would like to have God and their idols at the same time.

136 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
And there they remain for a time, fixed, obstinate, inflexible.
But God loves them. Therefore, as they will not learn by kind
ness, they must learn by terror. The sword of Providence and
tho Spirit is applied successively to every tie that binds them to
the world. They are smitten within and without ; burned with
fire ; overwhelmed with the waters ; peeled and scathed and
blasted to the very extremity of endurance ; till they learn in
this dreadful baptism the inconsistency of the attempted worship
of God and Mammon, and are led to see, that God is and ought
to be the true and only Sovereign."
But souls in whom grace is triumphant, are not beyond or
; above the cross. Such grace enables us to bear the cross, but
it does not deliver us from it. Madame Guyon was willing to
follow in the steps of the Saviour whom she loved. Christ had
crowned her ; and perhaps it was a crown of thorns. But He
himself had worn it ; and that was enough lo make it infinitely
dear to her heart. Spiritually, she had entered into rest. But
the rest of earth ought not to be confounded with the rest of
heaven. The one sleeps amid roses, and is wrapped in sun
shine ; the other has a dwelling-place with clouds and tempests
for its canopy, with thorns and briars for its covering. She
welcomed, therefore, the cross still, now and in all time to come,
till her head should be laid in the grave. The following poem
expresses some of her sentiments on this subject : —
THE JOY OF THE CROSS.
Lobu plunged in sorrow, I resign My rapid hours pursue the course,
My soul to that dear baud of thine, Prescribed thcin by love's sweetest fnrcu.
Without reserve or fear .• And by thy sovereign will,
That hand shall wipe my streaming eyes ; Without a wish to escape my doom ;
Or into smiles of glad surprise Though still a sufferer from tho womb.
Transform the falling tear. And dooin'd to suffer still.
My sole possession is thy love ; By thy command, where'er I strav.
In oarth beneath, or heaven above, Sokhow attends me all my way,
I have no other store ; A never-failing friend ;
And though with fervent suit I pray, And, if my Fufferings may augment
And importune thee, night and day. Thy praise, behold mo well content,
I ask thee nothing more. Let Swraw still attend '

OF MADAME GUYON.

137

Adieu ! ye vain delights of earth,
Insipid sports, and childish mirth,
I taste no Bweets in you ;
Unknown delights are in Vie cross,
All joy beside to me is dross ,-
And Jesus thought so too.
The Cross ! 0 ravishment and bliss—
How grateful e'en its anguish is ;
Its bitterness how sweet !
There every sense, and all tho mind,
In all her faculties refined,
Taste happiness complete,
Souls, once enabled to disdain
Base, sublunary Joys, maintain
Their dignity 6ecure ;
The fever of desire is pass'd,
And Love has all its genuine taste,
Is delicate and pure.

Self-love no grace In Sorrow sees,
Oonsults her own peculiar ease ;
'Tis all the bliss she knows ;
But nobler aims true Love employ.
In self-denial is her joy.
In suffering her repose.
Sorrow and Love go side by side ;
Nor height nor depth can e'er divide
Their heaven-appoiDted bands :
Those dear associates still are one,
Nor, till the race of life is run,
Disjoin their wedded hands,
Jesus, avenger of our fall,
Thou faithful lover, above all
The cross have ever borne !
0 tell me — life is in thy voice —
How much afflictions were thy choice.
And sloth and ease thy scorn !

Tliy choice and mine shall be the same,
Tnspirei- of that holy flame
"Which must for ever blaze.'
To take the cross and follow thee,
Where love and duty lead, shall be
My portion and my praise.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Uncertainty as to her future course — Thoughts of a Nunnery — Decides against — Proposals
of marriage — All such propositions decided against — Course still uncertain — Short season
of comparative retirement and peace — Poem.

In this new and encouraging state of her feelings, the ques
tion now pressed, What course should she take during the re
mainder of her life ? She believed, and she had some support
for her belief in the Scriptures, that inaction, or rather a suspen
sion of action, until Providence indicates the course to be taken,
with some degree of clearness, is the only true and safe action.
At such times, Providence requires no other kind of action than
that of waiting.
And this action is far from being unimportant, because it
implies a resigned and submissive spirit — a rejection of all un-

138 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
holy motives and impulses — a sincere desire to know the truth
— and a recognition of God's readiness to impart it. Indeed, to
j make men wait submissively and patiently until He sees fit to
permit and authorize their action in subordination to His own
time and manner of action, is a part, and a merciful and import
ant part, of God's discipline of His children.
The first plan which suggested itself, was to arrange her af
fairs and to go into a nunnery. There, in retirement and silence,
it seemed to her, as she looked at the snbject on its first being
presented, that she might serve God and benefit her fellow-
creatures, without the hazards to which she had formerly been
exposed. Many were the names cherished in her own personal
recollections, and celebrated in history, of those, worn out with
the cares and sorrows of the world, who had thus sought God
and that peace of God which passes understanding, in places of
religious seclusion. She thought of Genevieve Granger, of her
own sainted sister, who first watched over and instructed her in
the Ursuline seminary ; the Marys and the Catharines of other
times, the De Chantals and the St. Theresas, came to recollec
tion. But it required no great reach of thought to conclude,
that those who go to the convent, or any other place, without
being led there by the wisdom and signature of an overruling
providence, will fail to find God, whatever may bo the professed
object of their search, either as the guide or the end of their
journey. There was another and a higher question first to be
answered, What is God's will ? Looking at this proposed course
in the light of the Divine will, and, in order to know that will,
considering it in its connexion with what she owed to her family
and the world, she decided against it.
The situation of her children, in particular, had weight in this
decision. She was still the head of a family, and could not dis
regard the claims and duties of that responsible relation. " I
was still restricted in my movements,'' she says, " in having two
children given me in so short a time before my husband's death.
If I had been left with my eldest son alone, I should probably
have placed him at some college, and have gone myself into the

OF MADAME GUYON. 139
Convent of the Benedictines. But the situation of my younger
children precluded all thoughts of this kind. God had other
designs upon me."
Among other things was the question of a second marriage.
Proposals were made by three different persons. At the middle
age of life, possessed of great wealth, with a high reputation for
intelligence and refined culture, and entitled to move in the
leading circles of society, the question was one which brought
itself home to her situation, sympathies, and prospects of useful
ness. Carrying this matter, as she did everything else, to God,
she came to the conclusion that she was called to another sphere
of responsibility and duty. The question was decided on general
principles. She says, " There was one of these persons, in
particular, whose high birth and amiable exterior qualities,
might, under other circumstances, have had an influence on my
inclinations. But I was resolved to be God's alone."
Thus bidding adieu to the world, without shutting herself out
of the world, she awaited the course of events. Her present
position, however, and field of labour, did not satisfy her. She
had an inward conviction, without being discontented or anxi
ous, that the purposes of God were not fulfilled in it. She
seemed to see a hand in the clouds which beckoned her away,
but she knew not whither. There seemed to be a voice in her
spirit, a voice uttered secretly but authoritatively, which said,
that there were other duties and other crosses before her. Pro-v
vidence had not unfolded its intentions. But she knew that the
sign of God would be written on her awakened spirit in His
own good time.
Meanwhile she enjoyed a short season of comparative retire
ment and rest. It was now the summer of 1680. " 0 my
Lord," she says, " what happiness did I not largely taste, in my
solitude and with my little family, where nothing interrupted
my tranquillity I Living near Paris, but out of its limits, I en
joyed the advantages of the country as well as of the city. My
younger children were of an age which did not require from me
much personal care and attention, especially as I was assisted in

140 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
taking care of them by persons well qualified for that office. I
often retired into a forest near my residence ; and many were
the hours and days of religious communion and happiness which
I passed there." In the simple and affecting language of one of
her poems, — Here sweetly forgetting and wholly forgot,
By the world and its turbulent throng.
The birds and the Btreams lend me many a note,
That aids meditation and song.
Ve. desolate scenes, to your solitude led.
My life I in praises employ,
And scarce know the source of the tears that I shed,
Whether springing from sorrow or joy.
Though awfully silent, and shaggy, and rude,
I am charm'd with the peace ye afford ;
Your shades are a temple where noue will intrude —
The abode of my lover and Lord.
Ah ! send me not back to the race of mankind,
Perversely by folly beguiled;
For where in the crowds I have left shall I And
The spirit and heart of a child ?
Here let me, though fix'd in a desert, be free,
A little one, whom they despise ;
t Though lost to the world, if in union with Thee,
I am holy, and happy, and wise.

CHAPTER XIX.
1680 — Remarkable Incident In a church— Effect on her mind— Consulted by a person on a
mission to Siam — Aska his opinion on her plan of going on a mission to Oeneva — Ills ad
vice — Visit of Bishop JVAranthon at Paris — Consults him — Decides to leave for Gox —
Charities during the winter of 1680 — Efforts for the spiritual good of others — Preparations
for departure — Trials of mind — Remarks upon them and the opinions of others.
It is to this period, either the summer or early in the autumn
of 1680, that we refer the following incident. " I was obliged,"
she says, " to go to Paris about some business. Having entered
into a church that was very dark, I went up to the first confessor
I found there. I had never seen him before, and have never
seen him since. I made a simple and short confession ; but with

OF MADAME C1UY0N. 141
the confessor himself, aside from the religious act, I did not enter
into conversation. And accordingly, he surprised me much in
saying of his own accord, ' I know not who you are, whether
maid, wife, or widow ; but I feel a strong inward emotion to ex
hort you to do what the Lord has made known to you that He
requires of you. I have nothing else to say.'
" I answered him, Father, I am a widow, who have little
children. What else could God require of me, but to take due
care of them in their education ? He replied, ' I know nothing
about this. You know if God manifests to you that He requires
something of you, there is nothing in the world which ought to
hinder you from doing His will. One must leave one's children
to do this.' "
This remark, coming in this unexpected manner, touched her
in a point of great interest. The conviction had gradually
formed itself in her mind, that she must leave her present resi
dence, and labour somewhere at a distance. But how could she
leave her children ? This question caused her some perplexity ;
but she was not long in perceiving, that it is easier to the holy
mind to leave one's children, however strong their claim upon
the affections, than to leave any path of duty which God's pro
vidence clearly points out. The words, heard under circum
stances so singular, reminded her of the words of the Saviour :
" He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of
me; and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not
worthy of me." (Matt. x. 37, 38.)
She had nearly concluded, though with some doubts, that she
was called to religious labours in that part of France and Savoy
which borders on the Republic of Geneva, and perhaps in
Geneva itself. If, in the state of her affairs, she could not very
conveniently, or consistently, devote herself to labours among
the unchristianized heathen, she would, by labouring in the dis
tant and rude towns and provinces at the foot of the Alps, sus
tain a position hardly less trying in itself, or less beneficial in
its consequences. While deliberating, she was visited by a reli
gious friend from a distance, who came, in part, to consult her

142 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
on a design of going on a mission to Siam. With some reluc
tance he opened the subject. As his age and infirmities seemed
to disqualify him for so difficult and distant an enterprise, she
did not hesitate to discourage him.
But said she, " I have reason to think, that God has sent you
here not merely to get an opinion in regard to your mission, but
to give an opinion in regard to mine. I need your assistance
and your advice." Her friend kept the subject under considera
tion for some days ; and at last gave an opinion favourable to
her plans, subject only to this condition, that she should first
submit the matter to Bishop D'Aranthon, who bore the title of
Bishop of Geneva, although he resided at Anneci, twenty miles
south of Geneva, and under whose directions she would naturally
be placed in going into that part of France. It was the opinion
of this person, that if D'Aranthon approved, she should go ; but
if not, as he was in a situation especially fitted to judge of it,
she should give up the design.
To this view she readily assented. It seemed so important to
ascertain fully the views of Bishop D'Aranthon, and such was
the interest felt by this person himself, that he offered to go
personally to Anneci, and lay the subject before him. Madame
Guyon hesitated somewhat, because, although he was full of
religious fervour, and wished to spend his last days in attempt
ing to convert the Siamese, he was physically unfitted, at his
period of life, to endure much hardship. While they were thus
considering, two travellers, both of them religious persons, called
with no object apparently but that of resting, and stated that
Bishop D'Aranthon was then in Paris.
He was an humble, sincere man. As Protestants, we would
naturally consider him to be in some errors ; but he had the
great merit of being sincere. The people, over whose religious
interests he presided, were for the most part poor, engaged in
agricultural pursuits, and simple in their thoughts and manners.
They dwelt partly in Savoy and partly in France ; in sterile
but romantic regions, situated at the foot of the Alpine ranges.
Sympathizing with a people, whose lot could be mitigated and

OP MADAME GUYON. 143
rendered happy only by the influences of religion, he loved them,
and laboured most sincerely and faithfully. And it was a great
satisfaction to him to find any person, especially such a woman
as Madame Guyon, willing to co-operate in spreading among
them the knowledge of Jesus Christ.
Madame Guyon visited him without delay, and she speaks of
but one visit to him. The author of the Life of D'Aranthon
says that there were a number of interviews. The good Bishop
received her frankly and kindly. She stated her situation,
experience, and fixed purpose to devote herself to tbe service
of God. But how and where, she knew not ; except that the
Concurrence of providences, combined with something within
her, seemed to indicate that she might, perhaps, labour profit
ably in the distant part of France, and the contiguous portion
of Savoy. It had occurred to her also, to employ the substance
which God had given her, in forming a charitable establishment
for the resort of those who might be found truly willing to serve
God, and might need such aid. " The Bishop," she says,
" approved my design."
She determined, in concurrence with D'Aranthon, and also.
Father La Combe, whom she thought it proper to consult by
letter, to leave Paris, as soon as her affairs could be adjusted,
and reside at Gex, until Providence should indicate some other
field of labour. Gex is in the extreme east of France, within
the modern department of Ain, twelve miles from Geneva. It
is a town of some note, situated at the foot of Mount St. Claude,
one of the summits which constitute the celebrated Alpine!
range, called the Jura mountains.
As, however, the arrangements for so long a journey, and so
complete a change could not be fully made until late in the
autumn, it was determined to postpone her departure till the
spring or summer of the next year. Meanwhile, however, she
was not idle. In addition to the cares and labours incident to
her removal, she declined no labour, which the warmest Chris
tian charity and fidelity required her to undertake for others.
In the winter of 1G80,, which was very long and severe, there

144 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
was a scarcity in France. Amid the dense population of Paris
and its suburbs, it might perhaps be denominated a famine.
Aroused by the cries of distress, Madame Guyon made every
effort to relieve the many persons who stood in need. For a
considerable time she distributed some hundreds of loaves of
bread at her house every week, besides charities of a more private
nature. In addition, she made arrangements for a number of
poor boys and girls, and kept them at work.
God not only gave her strength and means to do it, but she
adds, that He " gave such blessings to my alms, that I did not
find that my family lost anything by it." " True charity," she
remarks further, " instead of wasting or lessening the substance
of the donor, blesses, increases, and multiplies it profusely. If
men fully believed this, how much that is now uselessly dissi
pated, would be given to the poor, which would scarcely bless
those who might receive it more than those who might give."
She was assiduous also, although in a somewhat private
manner, for the spiritual good of others. She mentions a num
ber of individuals, and one whole family in particular, whom
she thinks she was the means of greatly benefiting in this re
spect. The cases were similar to many others to which she
alludes in her history ; but they show that the sentiment of
benevolence, the principle of doing good, had taken strong and
permanent possession of her mind. The righteous shall say
unto the Saviour at the last day, " Lord, when saw we thee
an hungered, and fed thee ? or thirsty, and gave thee drink ?
When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in ? or naked, and
clothed thee ? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and
came unto thee ? And the King shall answer and say unto
them : Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto
one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."
(Matt. xxv. 37-40.)
As her departure approached, she made every preparation
proper and necessary. Some important arrangements were to
be made as to her property, of which she regarded herself as
merely the stewardess ; and while, therefore, she could not

OP MADAME GUYON. ' 145
employ it in personal gratifications on the one hand, she could
not wholly neglect it on the other. She made such provision
as seemed to be desirable, for those friends and relatives, as well
as others, whom Providence had made especially dependent on
her. Her two sons she placed in the care of persons who would
see everything done, which could reasonably be expected, for
their morals and education. Her little daughter it was her
intention to take with her.
But she experienced, at this juncture, some trials, both inward
and outward. Clear as the course proposed was to her own
mind, and strongly as it was approved by many religious persons
in whom she had confidence, there were others to whom it ap
peared objectionable. " One day," she says, " when I was
thinking over my plans, I found myself looking at them in the
human light rather than in God's light, and I found myself
tempted and staggered. The thought arose, perliaps I am mis
taken. At this moment an Ecclesiastic came in, who was in
the habit of visiting at my house, and said to me very promptly,
that the undertaking was rash and ill-advised. I confess that
I had some feelings of discouragement.
" But going to my Bible, to see what light I could find there,
I opened at Isaiah xli. 14, as follows : ' Fear not, thou worm
Jacob, and ye men of Israel. I will help thee, saith the Lord,
and thy Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel.' And opening at
the 43d chapter, I read as follows : ' When thou passest
through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the rivers,
they shall not overflow thee. When thou walkest through the
fire, thou shalt not be burnt ; neither shall the flame kindle
upon thee ; for I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel,
thy Saviour.' As I thus read, my heart was strengthened. My
doubts fled away. Relying on God, what occasion had I to
fear ? I resolved to go, although I might appear a fool in the
eyes of others ; regardless of the censures of those who know
not what it is to be a servant of God, and to receive and obey
His orders."
Her trial in regard to her children was very considerable ; but
K

146 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
she was enabled, through grace, entirely to surmount it. She
loved them ; " especially," she says, " my youngest son. I saw
him inclined to good, and everything seemed to favour the hopes
I had conceived of him. I was not insensible to the risk of
leaving him to another's education. My daughter was at this
time ill of a very tedious fever. Providence was pleased, how
ever, so to order it, that she recovered her health in season to
take the journey with me. The ties with which God held me
closely united to Himself, were infinitely stronger than those of
flesh and blood. The laws of my sacred marriage obliged me
to give up all, to follow my spouse whithersoever it was His
pleasure to call me. Though from time to time I had doubts
and trials of mind before I went upon this religious mission,
after my departure I never doubted of its being God's will.
" And though men, who judge of things only according to the
success which follows them, have taken occasion, from my sub
sequent disgraces and sufferings, to judge of my calling, and to
run it down as error, illusion, and imagination, it is that very
persecution, and the multitude of strange crosses (of which this
imprisonment which I now suffer is one),* which have confirmed
me in the certainty of its truth and validity. Nay, I am more
than ever convinced, that the resignation which I have made of
everything, is in pure obedience to the Divine will. The Gospel
effectually, in this point, shows itself to be true, which has
promised to those that shall leave all for the love of God, ' a
hundred-fold in this life, and persecutions also.'
'' And have not I infinitely more than a hundred-fold, in so
entire a possession as thou, my God, hast taken of me ; in that
unshaken firmness which thou givest me in my sufferings ; in
that perfect tranquillity in the midst of a furious tempest, which
assaults me on every side ; in that unspeakable joy, enlargedness,
and liberty which I enjoy, at the very time of an imprisonment
rigorous and severe ? I have no desire that my imprisonment
should end before the right time. I love my chains. Every
thing is equal to me, as I have no will of my own, but purely
* She wrote this when a prisoner in the Convent of St. Marie.

OF MADAME GUYON. 147
the love and will of Him who possesses me. My senses indeed
have not any relish for such things ; but my heart is separated
from them, and borne over them ; and my perseverance is not
of myself, but of Him who is my life ; so that I can say with
the apostle, lIt is no more I that live, but Jesus Christ that
liveth in me.' And if His life is in me, so my life is in Him.
It is He in whom I live, and move, and have my being.

CHAPTER XX.
July 1681, leaves Paris — Manner of leaving and reasons of it — ITer companions — Her child
makes crosses, and then weaves a crown for her — Stops at Corbell — Meets the Franciscan,
formerly Instrumental In hor conversion — Conversation — Sails for Melun — Meditations —
References to her poetry — Poem.
She left Paris, as nearly as can now be ascertained, early in
July 1681. Considerable opposition to her designs manifested
itself in some quarters, which rendered it possible, at least, that
efforts might be secretly and perhaps violently made to prevent
her departure. Her half-brother, La Mothe, who seems to have
felt that he had some claims, or at least some expectations, on
her property, had influence in high places, especially with the
Archbishop of Paris, who had influence with the king. Much.
regard was not paid to the liberty of the subject. Not unfre-
quently persons were seized suddenly and sent to the prison of
Vincennes, or the Bastile, by orders secretly and maliciously
obtained. Madame Guyon knew this, and at a later period she had ex
perience of it. She thought it best, therefore, not to place her
self in a situation where any attempt of this kind could be made
upon her. Accordingly she departed privately from Paris, in a
boat on the Seine. With her little daughter five years of age,
attended only by a devout woman, whom she calls Sister Gamier,
and two female domestics ; one of whom, I suppose, was the

148 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
maid-servant to whom God gave so much of her spirit, and who
shared for many years her labours and imprisonments.
She went forth with a definite object ; but still she might say
in some sense, that she went forth " not knowing whither she
went." She was now in her thirty-fourth year. Home and
friends she might be said to know no more ; she became a repre
sentative of what she aptly calls the " apostolic life," with the
world for her country, and all mankind for her brethren. From
this time also we may number what she calls her " years of
banishment." Wanderings, persecutions, imprisonments, exile,
were her portion.
Alone upon the waters, she adored and rejoiced in God in
silence. Still something within her whispered sadness to her
heart. Her situation seemed to resemble that of the apostle
Paul, when he went up, for the last time, to Jerusalem.
"T go bound," he says, " in the spirit unto Jerusalem, not
knowing the things that shall befall me there ; save that the
Holy Ghost witnesses in every city, saying, that bonds and
afflictions abide me." Her little daughter sat in the boat, and
employed herself in cutting the leaves and twigs which she had
gathered on the river banks, or as they had floated by on the
water, into the shape of crosses. In this way she made a great
number ; and then, apparently unconscious of what she was
doing, she fastened many of them to the garments of her mother.
Her mother, at first, did not particularly notice what she was
doing ; but directing her attention to it soon afterwards, she
found herself almost literally covered with crosses. Having
borne the cross in times past, and seeing but little prospect of a
different result in future, she could not help looking on the act
of her child as a sort of symbol and foreshadowing of what she
would be called to endure. Sister Gamier remarked to Madame
Guyon, " The doings of this child appear to be mysterious."
And turning to the child, she said, " My pretty child, give me
some crosses too." " No," she said ; " they are all for my dear
mother." But she gave her one to stop her importunity.
But what was the surprise of Madame Guyon, when she saw

OP MADAME GUYON. 149
her daughter a little afterwards weaving together a crown of
leaves and river flowers. She came and insisted on placing the
crown upon her head ; saying, " After the cross you shall be
crowned." This perfected the symbol. First the trial, and
then the reward ; the night of affliction succeeded by the dawn
ing and the noon-day of joy. First the Cross, and then the
Crown. This gave the transaction, though the doing of.a little
child, the character of a sign of Providence. And though
" bonds and afflictions " awaited her, she could add, with the
apostle, " None of these things move me ; neither count I my life
dear unto me, so that I might finish my course with joy."
Their boat stopped at Corbeil, a, pleasant town of some size,
seventeen miles from Paris. Her stay was short. But she met
there the pious Franciscan whose conversation had been so much
blessed to her in the early part of her religious history. She had
kept up a correspondence with him for many years, and looked
upon him as one of the most experienced and valuable of her re
ligious friends. Their interview recalled many pleasant recol
lections, and was calculated to fill their hearts with gratitude.
She related the dealings of God, which had resulted in her
present design. The Franciscan, now advanced in years and
mature in judgment, approved her plans, and invoked the Divine
blessing upon them.
Once more upon the Seine, she saw with pleasure the impulse
of oar and sail. The tree grew upon the banks ; the flower bent
its stalk to the waters ; the breeze wafted odours ; the birds
sang in the branches. But there was nothing which she could
dissociate from God ; in all she heard God's voice ; in all she
saw God's glory. She saw the husbandman as he went to his
home — his cottage beneath the trees on the river's bank ; and
she could not help thinking, in the secret of her heart, that earth
had no home for her. But though a pilgrim, she was not alone ;
though homeless, she had a habitation not made with hands.
The state of her mind is found delineated in her poems. No ,
person but a Christian of confirmed and thorough piety could
have written the following beautiful stanzas, evidently drawn

150 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
j from her own experience. Poetry is the heart expressed ; or,
at all events, there is no poetry where there is no heart. The
poetiy of Madame Guyon, whatever defects may attach to it,
has the merit of expressing precisely what she was, and what
she felt. These, stanzas are emphatically the sentiments of the
day and the hour ; the spirit and voice of the world's wanderer.
GOD EVERYWHERE TO THE SOUL THAT LOVES HIM.
{ O Thou by long experience tried, Could I be cast where Thou art not,
Near whom no grief can long abide ; That were indeed a dreadful lot ;
My Lord ! how full of aweet content, But regions none remote I call,
J pass my years of banishment. Secure of finding God in all. '
All scenes alike engaging prove My country, lord, art Thou alone :
To souls impress'd with sacred love ; No other can I claim or own ;
Where'er they dwell, they dwell in Thee, The point where all my wishes meet,
In heaven, in earth, or on the sea. Sly law, my love ; life's only aweet.
To me remains nor place nor time ; I hold by nothing here below ;
My country is in every clime ; Appoint my journey, and I go ;
/ can be calm and free from care Though pierced by scorn, opprest by pride,
On any shore, since God is there. I feel the good, — feel nought beui.de.
While place we seek, or place toe shun, No frowns of men can hurtful prove
The soul finds happiness in none ; To souls on fire with heavenly loTe ;
But with a God to guide our way, Though men and devils both condemn,
'Tis equal joy to go or stay. No gloomy days arise for them.
Ah, then ! to His embrace repair,
My soul, — thou art no stranger there ;
There love Divine shall be thy guard,
And peace and safety thy reward.

CHAPTEE XXI.
Arrives at Lyons — Remarks — Proceeds to Anneci — Remarks on this journey — Religious
services at the tomb of St. Francis do Sales— Arrives at Gex, 23d of July 1 081 —Heath
of M. Bertot — Appointment of La Combe — Inward religious state — Benevolent efforts —
New views of the nature of her mission — Sanctification by faith — Visit to Gex — Personal
labours with La Combe — Favourable results.
The boat stopped at Melun, a pleasant town, twenty-five miles
south-east of Paris. Immediately she took passage with her
companions, — with the exception of Sister Garnier, who stopped
at Melun, — in one of the public conveyances that travelled

OF MADAME GUYON: 151
between Melun and Lyons. Lyons, formerly the second city of
France for beauty, commerce, and opulence, is situated at the
confluence of the Ehone and Saone, two hundred and twenty
miles south-east of Paris. Distinguished as it was for its public
structures, besides other objects of interest, she spent no longer
time in it than was necessary to recover a little from the ex
haustion of her journey. She could not indulge curiosity, except
in subordination to the claims of religious duty and of God's
glory. From Lyons she took the most direct and expeditious route
to Anneci, the residence of Bishop D'Aranthon. Speaking of
this journey, she says, " It was very fatiguing. The toils of the
day were followed by almost sleepless nights. My daughter, a
very tender child and only five years of age, got scarcely any
sleep, perhaps three hours a night. And yet we both bore so
great a fatigue without falling sick by the way. My daughter
showed no uneasiness, and made no complaint. At other times
half this fatigue, or even the want of rest which I endured,
would have thrown me into a fit of sickness. God only knows
both the sacrifices which He induced me to make, and the joy
of my heart in offering up everything to Him. Had I been
possessed of kingdoms and empires, I should have offered them
all up with the greatest joy, in order to give Him the highest
marks and evidences of love.
" As we passed from town to town, I made it my practice,
when we arrived at the public inn, to go into tbe nearest church,
and spend my time in acts of devotion, till summoned to my
meals. And when travelling, I did not cease to pray inwardly
and commune with God, although those with me did not per
ceive, or at least comprehend it. My communion with God, and
my strong faith in Him, had a tendency to sustain my spirits
and render me cheerful. Disengaged from the world, and de
voted exclusively to God's work and will, I found myself uttering
the pleasure of my heart aloud in songs of praise. We passed
through some dangerous places, especially between Lyons and
Chamberri. And at one time our carriage broke down. But

152 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
God wonderfully preserved us. He seemed to be to us a pillar
of fire by night, and a pillar of cloud by day."
She arrived at Anneci on the 21st of July 1681. Next day,
some religious services, which had special reference to her arrival,
were performed by the bishop at the tomb of St. Francis de Sales.
The memory of this distinguished man was exceedingly dear to
her. She seemed to feel a special union with him, and to hold,
as it were, with his departed spirit, " the holy intercourse of
friend with friend ; united with him in Christ, and with Christ
in God, who binds all His people, both the dead and the living,
in one immortal tie."
The 22d of July was a day which, since the year 1668, when
she first knew the blessedness of believing, she had never per
mitted to pass without special observance. On this day, nine
years before, she had given herself to God in the most solemn
manner, with the formality of a written act. To this she refers
when she says, " It wa3 there, at the tomb of St. Francis de
Sales, that I renewed my spiritual marriage with my Bedeemer,
as I did every year on this day." She was refreshed by the re
collection of the striking passage in the Prophet Hosea, " And
I will betroth thee unto me for ever ; yea, I will betroth thee unto
me in righteousness, and in judgment, and in loving-kindness, and
in mercies. I will even betroth thee unto me in faithfulness ; and
thou shalt know the Lord."
On the 23d of July, she continued her journey, making a
short stop in Geneva at the house of the French consul, where
religious services were performed. She speaks of it as having
been a day of much spiritual consolation. " It seemed to me," she
says, " as if God united Himself to me in a powerful and special
manner." Near the close of the day, she passed again within
France, which she had left in going to Anneci and Geneva; and,
making her way along the base of the Jura mountains, reached
Gex. She took up her residence at the house of the Sisters of
Charity, who received her very kindly.
M. Bertot, whom, as her authorized Director, Madame Guyon
had consulted for many years, and in whom she placed great

OF MADAME GUYON. 153
confidence, seems to have been a man of learning and piety,
characterized by a high degree of caution. She says he was
retired and difficult of access ; and not at all inclined to think
favourably of any religious experience which partook much of
the marvellous and extraordinary. Nevertheless, on being con
sulted in relation to her mission, he gave his approval of it. A
short time after she saw him on this subject, he was taken ill,
and died. His works, containing some letters of Madame Guyon
on spiritual subjects, were published after his death.
One of the first acts of Bishop D'Aranthon, after her arrival
at Gex, was to appoint Director, in Bertot's place, Father La
Combe. The selection met her views .and wishes. Bertot's
views and experience were not altogether accordant with hers.
Madame Guyon speaks of the early part of her residence at
Gex as characterized by sweet and happy peace of mind and
most intimate communion with God. Many times she awoke
at midnight, with such a presence of God in her soul, that she
could no longer sleep, but arose and spent hours in prayer and
praise and Divine communion. On one occasion her exercises
were connected with the scripture, " Lo, I come to do thy will,
0 God ;" which was brought to her mind very forcibly, and so
applied to her own situation and feelings as to cause the most
devout and pleasing reflections. " It was accompanied," she
says, " with the most pure, penetrating, and powerful communi
cation of grace that I had ever experienced. And here I may
remark, that, although my soul was truly renovated, as to know
nothing but God^ alone, yet it was not in that strength and
immutability in which it has since been."
She was now on a field of labour remote from the noise and
temptations of cities, to which she had looked forward with
great interest. She had come without any prescribed course of
action. But he who has the heart of a true missionary, will!
find something which can be done benevolently and religiously, ;
wherever he goes ; and that, too, without the formalities and
aids of antecedent arrangements. God opens the way to those
that love Him. In connexion with other religious persons, she

154 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
endeavoured to do good to the poor, the ignorant, and suffering,
especially in giving religious instruction.
She merely alludes to her labours incidentally and briefly.
She was skilled in making ointments and applying them to
wounds, and thought she might be very beneficial to those who
were afflicted in that way, especially the poor. And she con
templated devoting herself wholly to benevolent measures of
this kind. It was obviously her expectation to labour very
much as she had laboured in times past ; praying, instructing,
visiting the 6ick, and giving to the needy ; with the simple
difference, that now her labours were to be performed in a dif
ferent situation and among a different class of people. Her
labours and charities were such that Bishop D'Aranthon wrote
her a polite letter, expressive of his gratitude.
But it was not long before a new voice began to utter itself
in her heart. The thought, or the voice, which God puts within
us, is often at variance with mere human wisdom. In more
. than one 6ense can it be said, that " God's thoughts are not as
our thoughts." He not unfrequently leads His people in a way
' which they know not. In God's view the time of the thing is
as essential as the thing itself. In sending her from Paris to
the foot of the Jura, among a poor and unknown people, He
imposed a mission upon her which she did not know, and which
He did not design that she should know — a burden which she
understood afterwards, but not now.
The voice inwardly, in the form of a new and imperious con
viction, began to speak. Something within her seemed to say,
that this was not the special and great work which God had
called her to perform. Her mind was perplexed, and she was
at a loss what course to take. At this time Father La Combe
came to Gex. He advised her to set apart a season of special
supplication for the purpose of ascertaining more definitely what
the will of the Lord might be. But on endeavouring to carry
this advice into effect, she thought it best to leave the subject
to the decisions of Providence.
God never has failed, and never will fail to make known His

OF MADAME GUYON. 155
will, in His own time and way, to those who have true and un
reserved hearts to do His will. In fact, His will exists in His
present providences ; they are the letters in which it is written.
And the heart that perfectly corresponds to God's providences,
perfectly corresponds to His will. It was God's will that she
should go, not knowing whither she went. A cloud rested upon
her path. The seal of her mission was not yet broken. What
could she do then but wait, adore, and be silent ? And this was
her answer, practically at least, to La Combe — a man much less
advanced than herself. " God," she thought in her heart, " will
not fail to indicate to me what course I should take, when, on
the one hand, He finds me ready to do His commands, and when
on the other He is ready to make His commands known. I
leave, therefore, everything with Him, and with His providences.
Thy will be done."
The work which the Lord had assigned her, was wholly dif-^
ferent from what she had anticipated. God often works thus.
Thus, at the foot of the Alps, when she thought her great:
business was to make ointments, and cut linen, and bind up
wounds, and tend the sick, and teach poor children the alphabet j
and the catechism (important vocations to those whom Provi-i
dence calls to them), she uttered a word from her burdened:
heart, in her simplicity, without knowing or thinking how widely;
it would affect the interests of humanity, or through how mauyi
distant ages it would be re-echoed. And that word was, Sancti-f
fication by Faith.
Both the thing and the manner of the thing struck those who,
heard her with astonishment. Sanctification itself was repug- \
nant ; and sanctification by faith inexplicable. In the Pro- ;
testant Church, it wtiuld have been hardly tolerable ; but in the ,
Roman Catholic Church, which is characterized by ceremonial,'
observances, the toleration of a sentiment which ascribes the :
highest results of inward experience to faith alone, was impos- '
sible. So that, instead of being regarded as an humble and j
devout Catholic, as she supposed herself to be, she found herself j
suddenly denounced as a heretic. But the Word was in her '

156 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
\ heart, formed there by infinite wisdom ; and in obedience to that
\ deep and sanctified conviction which constitutes the soul's in-
! ward voice, she uttered it ; uttered it now, and uttered it always,
• " though bonds and imprisonments awaited her."
She used discretion, however ; but not hypocrisy. She did
not esteem it advisable to propose the highest results of the
religious life to those who had hardly made a beginning, and
who had not, as yet, experienced the blessing of justification.
But when she met with those who believed in Christ as a
Saviour from the penalty of a violated law, she seemed to be
impelled by a sort of religious instinct, originating in her own
blessed experience, to recommend Him also as a Saviour from
present transgression, as a Saviour who can and does communi
cate His own spirit of truth, meekness, gentleness, purity, and
holiness of heart to those who, in the spirit of entire self-renun
ciation, look to Him believingly for these great blessings. She
said what was in her, in God's time, without variation and
without fear, scarcely knowing what she did.
Her friend the Franciscan had made some suggestions on the
course which she might find it expedient to pursue. He seems
to have understood the state of things at Gex, especially among
that plass of persons entitled the New Catholics, with whom it
was thought probable that she might be called particularly to
labour. " He mentioned," she says, " a number of things about
them, in order to show me that my views on religious experience,
and my experience, were quite different from what I should be
likely to find among them. He gave mo to understand that I
must be very cautious in letting them know that I walked in
the inward path; that is to say, in a life which rests upon faith;
assuring me, if I were not so, that I could reasonably expect
nothing but persecutions from them."
But it was difficult for her to understand and receive this
advice. The way of God had become so clear to her, that she
did not readily perceive how others, in the foolishness of the
natural heart, might stumble at it. And if they did stumble at
it, was it not the way of God still ? And ought it not to be

OF MADAME GUYON. 157
proclaimed as such? " It is in vain," she remarks, in connexion
with this conversation, " to contrive to hide ourselves from the
blow, when God sees it best for us to suffer, and especially when
our wills are utterly resigned to Him, and totally passed into
His. 0 Saviour, how didst thou submit to the blow, yea, how
didst thou smite, as it were, upon thyself, in submission to thy
Father's holy will ! I am thine, solemnly devoted to the one
thing of being like Thee, of being conformed to Thee. Thou
didst suffer ; and I will suffer with Thee. I refuse nothing.
If it be thy will, my own hand shall strike the wound into my
own bosom."
She said, on proper occasions, what she had to say without \
concealment. It was now evident that God, for this very pur
pose, had sent her there. God sent her abroad, that she might
preach the more effectually at home. He placed her at the cir
cumference, that beginning, not " at Jerusalem," but at the
furthest place from Jerusalem, she might operate back from the
circumference to the centre. The woman's voice that uttered
itself in self-devoted banishment, at the foot of the Jura, was
heard in due time iu the high places of Paris. When she had
spoken, her eyes were opened in relation to her position. Some,
believed and rejoiced; some disbelieved and reproached her,'
and were angry.
At this juncture, of those whose learning and position in
society rendered their concurrence particularly important, one
individual only stood by her, both in sentiment and action —
Father La Combe. Providence favoured and supported her here.
He was her spiritual Director ; understood her principles and
experience ; had something, although lingering far behind her,
of the same thorough inward life. On his return to Thonon, he
invited her to go with him. This invitation she accepted, as
the excursion would be favourable to her enfeebled health, and
entirely within the limits of the present sphere of her labours.
They decided to take the nearest way across the Leman lake.
Boats were continually crossing, which offered them a passage.
Embarked in her little vessel, she was now on the wave of

158 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
those waters, and in the bosom of those mountains, which
philosophers and poets have delighted to behold, and have loved
to celebrate : — " Clear, placid Leman ! thy eontrasted lake.
With the wide world I dwelt in, is a thing
Which warns me, with ita stillness, to forsake
Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring."
j It was in the sight of the place where she now was, that Gibbon
; and Voltaire subsequently resided and wrote. These very
¦ waters, and the cliffs and cottages and snow-crowned summits
that hung over them, have since inspired the genius of Rousseau
and Byron. With deep feeling they admired these wonderful
works ; she, with no less admiration of the works, admired them
still more, as the mighty mirror of the God who made them.
They drew their inspiration from the mountains, which, though
formed of adamant, must sooner or later crumble and pass away ;
' she drew her inspiration from the God of the mountains, who
' endures for ever.
Before they reached the eastern side of the lake, one of those
sudden and fierce storms arose, to which this body of water is
subject. The dark clouds wrapped them ; their little boat
dashed violently upon the waves ; the boatmen were in conster
nation. But to her the storm brought no terror. Faith, which
places God in the centre — God, who is love under all circum
stances, in the storm as well as in the sunshine — had equalized
all. Calmly she awaited the result. God protected the little
company, and they arrived safely at their place of destination.
Twelve days she stayed at Thonon, at the Ursuline Convent,
a portion of the time in retirement, separate from the world, but
not alone. God was with her. But she never forgot the mission
' which she now felt was committed to her — namely, the procla
mation, to all who bear the name of Christ, of Holiness based
upon Faith, as their present privilege and possession. To ac
complish her for this work, God had not only established her
position in society, and given her vast powers of thought, but,
what was still more necessary, had subjected her inmost nature

OF MADAME GUYON. 159
to the terrible discipline of His providences, and to the flaming
scrutiny of His Holy Spirit.
At this time her mind was very much taken up with the
spiritual condition of La Combe — nominally, her Director. But
really the spiritual direction was with the one to whom God had
actually given the deepest experience and the largest measures
of His grace. The relation in which they stood to each other,
gave them frequent opportunities of conversation. He was pre- .
pared to listen to her, independently of other considerations,
because she had been the instrument, many years before, of his
advancement in religion, if not of his first religious experience.
She saw that he had much ; but she felt that he ought to have
more. His religious state, as she has delineated it, was precisely this.
Intellectually he received the doctrine of sanctification, as some
thing to be experienced now. On this point he did not doubt.
His prayers, his resolutions, his efforts, attended by Divine grace,
were not in vain. His experience failed, in having too large a
share of the apparitional and emotional. He attached an undue
value to sights and sounds, and to emotions of mere joy, con
sidered as the exclusive or the principal evidences of religion.
It was obviously very hard for him to walk in the narrow way
of faith alone.
" Father La Combe," she says, " having walked a long time
by testimonies, as he called them, that is to say, by sensible marks
and signs, could not easily remove himself from that way of
living, and enter upon a better one. He was too much dis
posed to seek for those things which satisfy human sense and
reason. Hard was it for him to walk in the poor and low and
despised way of entire self-renunciation and of simple faith. No
one can tell what it cost me, before he was formed according to
the will of God. It was hard for him to die entirely to self. I
did not grieve when I saw him suffer. I had such a desire for
bis spiritual progress and perfection, that I could willingly have
wished him all the crosses and afflictions imaginable, that might
have conduced to this great and blessed end. He lay like a

160 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
heavy burden upon my spirit. I had no resource but to carry
it to the Lord, who had placed it upon me.
La Combe renounced all, that he might receive all. He
wanted no other signs or tokens of his acceptance, than the de
claration of God's words, that all who give themselves to Him
to do His will in faith, are safe. He could not but foresee, that
doctrinal views so different from those which were generally
entertained, must occasion remark, and would probably excite
permanent and deep opposition. But he had grace and strength
sufficient to leave all in the Lord's hands.
Recognising in Madame Guyon the instrument, under God, of
his own spiritual renovation and progress, he entertained for her
those sentiments of respect and of Christian affection, which
both her natural and Christian character seemed justly to claim.
From this time their history is, to some extent, linked together.
Believing that the Gospel had power to purify and perfect, as
well as to save from the infliction of punishment, they did what
they could to realize this great result, and to make their fellow-
beings holy. In their common trials, as well as in their common
labours, they sympathized with each other, and endeavoured to
strengthen the latter, and to alleviate the former, by a written
correspondence carried on for many years. They met with re
bukes, opposition, and imprisonments. But God, who had given
them the promise, was with them to the end.

CHAPTER XXII.
Account of the hermit of Thonon, Anselm— Keturn to Gex — Thrown from a horse— Laboura
— The case of a poor woman — Sermon of La Oombe on Holiness — Culled to account —
Views of Bishop D'Aranthon — Proposes to Madame Guyon to give up her property and
become prioress of a lleligious House at Gex — Her refusal — Remarkable conversation be
tween D'Aranthon and La Combe — Remarks upon D'Aranthon's course and character —
Opposition to Madame Guyon.
"At Thonon/' she says, " I found a hermit, whom the people
called Ansclra, — a person of the most extraordinary sanctity

OF MADAME GUYON. 161
that had appeared for some time. God had wonderfully drawn
him from Geneva at twelve years of age. With the permission
of the cardinal, at that time Archbishop of Aix, in Provence, he
had taken the habit of hermit of St. Augustine, at the age of
nineteen. This man and another person lived together in a little
hermitage, which they had prepared for themselves, where they
saw nobody but such as came to visit them in their solitary place.
He had lived twelve years' in this hermitage. He seldom ate
anything but pulse, prepared with salt and sometimes with oil ;
with the exception that three times a week he made his meals of
bread and water. He wore for a shirt a coarse hair-cloth, and
lodged on the bare ground. He was a man of great piety, living
in a continual state of prayer, and in the greatest humility.
He had been the instrument, in God's hands, of many remark
able things.
" This good hermit, who had been acquainted with Father La
Combe for some time, and had learned something of me, seemed
to have a clear perception of the designs of God in relation to us.
God had showed him, as he assured us, that we were both
destined, in His providence, for the guidance and aid of souls ;
but that this mission of God would not be fulfilled in us, without
our experiencing at the same time various and strange crosses."
At the expiration of twelve days she returned to Gex, by the
way of Geneva, — a longer route, but avoiding the exposures of
an open boat upon the lake. The French consul proposed to
her to complete the remainder of her journey, only ten miles, on
horseback, and offered one of his own horses. " I had some
difficulty," she remarks, " in accepting this proposal, as I was
not much acquainted with riding on horseback. The consul
assuring me, however, that the horse was very gentle, and that
there was no danger, I ventured to mount him. There was a
sort of smith standing by, who looked at me with a wild, hag
gard look. This man, just as I had got fairly seated upon the
animal, took it into his head to strike him with a heavy blow upon
the back, which made him start very suddenly. The result was,
that I was thrown upon the ground violently, falling upon my
L

162 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
temple, and injuring two of my teeth and the cheek-bone. I
was so much stunned and hurt, that I could not proceed immedi
ately; but after resting awhile and recovering myself, I took
another horse, and with a rider beside me, to render any
necessary assistance, I proceeded on my way."
At Gex she continued to labour, as God gave her opportunity.
There was a poor woman from the neighbouring country, who
seems to have been religious, in the common acceptation of the
term, and even eminently so. " She was one," says Madame
Guyon, "on whom the Lord had conferred very singular graces.
She was in such high religious reputation in the place from
which she came, that she passed there for a saint. Our Lord
brought her to me, in order that she might understand and see
the difference between that religion which consists in the pos
session of spiritual endowments and gifts, and that which con
sists in the possession of the Giver."
This woman passed through the same struggle, and experi
enced the same blessing which others experienced ; no longer a
great Christian by being great, but by being little ; no longer
great in her own eyes because she had experienced much; but
great in the eyes of God, because she had become nothing in
herself. This case illustrates the nature of a portion of her labours at
this time. She endeavoured to establish and instil permanent
principles of practical Christianity, believing, as she did, that
true Christianity, considered in its renovating and sanctifying
relations, does not consist in having God's gifts merely, but
chiefly and especially in having God himself in the soul by a
perfect union with His will. She felt herself particularly called
i upon to point out this difference, between emotional experience,
which feeds upon what is given, both good and bad, and voli
tional experience, which feeds upon what is, namely, upon God's
will alone ; or, what is the same thing, upon " every word which
proceedeth out of His mouth." And on the basis of this distinc-
, tion, she sometimes intimates, that the doctrines of sanctification,
or of inward holy living, may be reduced for the most part, to

OF MADAME GUYON. 163
the two great principles of self-renunciation on the one hand,)
and of perfect union with the Divine will on the other. He
who has nothing in himself, has all in God.
About this time Father La Combe was called to preach on
some public occasion. The new doctrine, as it was termed, was
not altogether a secret. Public curiosity had become excited.
He chose for his text the passage in Psalm xlv. 13 — " The king's
daughter is all glorious within; her clothing is of wrought gold."
By the king he understood Christ; by the king's daughter,
the Church. His doctrine was, whatever might be true in re
gard to men's original depravity, that those who are truly given
to Christ, and are in full harmony with Him, are delivered from
it ; that is to say, are " all glorious within." Like Christ, they
love God with a love free from selfishness, with pure love. Like
Christ, they are come to do the will of the Father. Christ is
formed in them. They not only have faith in Christ, and faith
in God through Christ, but, as the result of this faith, they have
Christ's disposition. They are now in a situation to say of
themselves individually, in the language of the apostle Paul,
" I live ; and yet not I, but Christ liveth in me."
He did not maintain that all Christians are necessarily the
subjects of this advanced state of Christian experience, but en
deavoured to show that this is a possible state ; that, however
intense human depravity may be, the grace of God has power to
overcome it ; that the example of Christ, the full and rich pro
mises, and even the commands, give encouragement to effort,
and confidence in ultimate victory. And without making allu
sions to himself, or to the remarkable woman whose experience
and instructions had revived the doctrine of present sanctification,
now almost forgotten, although not unknown to the pious of for
mer times, he could not hesitate to maintain that there have been,
that there may be, and that there are, truly holy hearts in this
depraved world. On this basis, he preached holiness, not
merely as a thing to be proclaimed, but to be experienced, — not
merely as theme of pulpit declamation, but as a matter of per
sonal realization.

164 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Great was the consternation when it was found that men were
not merely required to be holy, but, what is practically a differ
ent thing, were expected to be holy. The requisition was ad
mitted ; but the belief of its practical possibility, and the expec
tation of the fulfilment of it, which would imply a close scrutiny
into the irregular lives of many, were rejected as visionary, and
condemned as heretical. La Combe, accordingly, although he
was a man whose learning and eloquence entitled him to no
small degree of consideration, was called to account.
An ecclesiastic of considerable standing and influence with
Bishop D'Aranthon not only declared that the sermon was
full of errors, but, conscious perhaps of some irregularities,
which the doctrine of practical holiness might not easily tolerate,
he took the position that it was preached against himself per
sonally. He drew up eight propositions, expressive of sentiments
which ought not to pass unnoticed.
Madame Guyon asserts, that he inserted in these propositions
statements which La Combe had not advanced, and adjusted
them as maliciously as possible. He sent them to one of his
friends at Rome, that their heretical character might be ascer
tained by the proper ecclesiastical authorities, and the author
might feel in due season, the discriminating and repressive hand
of the Inquisition. No formal condemnation, however, was pro
nounced. Probably the authorities at Rome, watchful as they
generally are in the matter of heretical tendencies, did not con
sider the movements of an ecclesiastic as yet almost unknown,
and residing in a remote and obscure place, as threatening any
very great evils, even if considerably divergent from the strict
line of Roman Catholic orthodoxy. La Combe escaped this time.
Bishop D'Aranthon had the sagacity to perceive, that the
responsibility of this movement, which both excited his curiosity
and alarmed his fears, rested chiefly upon Madame Guyon. He
did not hesitate to express his sincere regard for her talents and
virtues ; but he could not conceal from himself the fact, that her
piety and intellectual ascendency rendered her opinions the
more dangerous, if they were not true. He determined there-

OF MADAME GUYON. 165
fore, after considerable consultation with some of his ecclesiastics,
that she should not continue to labour within his diocese, unless
in a different way and on different principles. He had approved
of her coming, as an executor of charities, and not as a teacher
of dogmatics.
But he adopted a novel plan, more ingenious than wise. He
proposed to her to give her property, or that portion still within
. her control, to one of the religious houses at Gex, and to become
herself the prioress of it. Desirous of preventing her departure,
he reasoned, very naturally, that her position as prioress of a
religious community, would give scope to her fertile and active
powers of thought and piety, without furnishing opportunity to
diffuse her exertions and influence beyond its limits, and thus
good would be realized without the existing dangers. The
proposition does not appear to have been in all respects imprac
ticable. She probably would have had no difficulty in disposing
of that portion of her property which had not been settled on
her children, and which still stood in her own name, for some
religious purpose ; — indeed, she repeatedly declared her readiness
to do it ; — but the inward voice, the voice of God in the soul, de
clared imperatively, that the new and higher mission to which
God had called her, could not be fulfilled by such a course. She
based her refusal upon two propositions : first, that she could not
consistently and regularly become prioress, because she had not
passed through the regular period prescribed to noviciates; and,
second, because by remaining permanently at Gex, she would
incur the hazard and the sin of opposing and defeating the
obvious designs of God in regard to her.
The good man had his heart too much set upon his design to
receive this unfavourable decision with entire equanimity. In
this position of affairs, Father La Combe visited Anneci. He
found the bishop somewhat dissatisfied and afflicted; and the
following conversation took place between them : —
D'Aranthon. — You must absolutely engage this lady to give
her property to the religious house at Gex, and become the
prioress of it.

166 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
La Combe. — You know, sir, what Madame Guyon lias told
you of the dealings of God with her, and of what she has con
sidered her religious vocation, both when you saw her at Paris,
and also since she had been in this region. She has given her
self up to do God's will. For this one thing, she has quitted all
other things; and I do not believe that she will accept your
propositions, if she has any fear that by so doing she will put
it out of her power to accomplish the designs of God in regard
to her. She has offered to stay with the sisters at the religious
house at Gex, as a boarder. If they are willing to keep her as
such, she will remain with them ; if not, she is resolved to re
tire, temporarily, into some convent, till God shall dispose of
her otherwise.
D'Aranthon. — I know all that ; but I likewise know that she
is so very obedient to you as her spiritual adviser and director,
that, if you lay your commands upon her, she will assuredly
comply with them.
La Combe. — That is the very reason, sir, why I hesitate.
Where great confidence is reposed, we should be very careful
how we abuse it. I shall not compel Madame Guyon, on the
ground of the confidence she has reposed in me, or of the spiri
tual authority which I possess over her — coming as she does
from a distant place — after having made such sacrifices of her
property as she has, to give up the whole of the remainder of it
to a religious house, not yet fully established, and which, if it
ever should be, cannot be of any great use under the existing
circumstances. D'Aranthon. — I do not accept your view of the subject. Your
reasons, permit me to say, are without application and value.
If you do not make her do it, I shall suspend and degrade you.
La Combe. — Be it so, sir. I cannot do what I believe to be
wrong. I am ready not only to suffer suspension, but even
death itself, rather than do anything against my conscience.
La Combe perceived that these things indicated anything
rather than harmony and safety. Not knowing but some sudden
measures might be taken, which would prejudice her security,

OF MADAME GUYON.

167*

he immediately sent Madame Guyon some account of this inter
view, by express. But she continued calmly in her work, visit
ing the sick, relieving the poor, and instructing the ignorant ;
and especially inculcating on all the necessity of a heart wholly
given to God. And in doing this, she began to touch upon a^
subject, which is rather of a delicate nature in the Church of I
which she was a member. She thought it necessary j with all /
possible discretion and kindness, to distinguish between the reli- ',
gion of forms and the religion of reality, between outward reli- ¦
gion and inward religion, between genuflexions and signs of the
cross made upon the exterior of the person, on the one hand, and
prostrations and crucifixions of that which is interior, on the ,
other. This seemed to her very important, although she ad- :
mitted that forms and ceremonies were good, and to some extent !
necessaiy, in their place. In doing this, she took a course which j
was never forgotten nor forgiven.
But this was not all. She had learned the value of the Bible. |
In the eleventh or twelfth year of her age, as a pupil in the
Dominican convent at Montargis, she ODe day found a Bible iu
the room assigned her. " I spent," she says, " whole days in
reading it ; giving no attention to other books or other subjects
from morning to night. And having great powers of recollec
tion, I committed to memory the historical parts entirely."
From that time the Bible was dear to her. Her constant refer
ences to the Scriptures would be a decisive proof of this, even if
we had not the additional and remarkable evidence, that she
afterwards wrote and published, in the French language, twenty
volumes of practical and spiritual commentary on the Sacred
Writings. She felt it her duty, therefore, in opposition to the;
prevalent views among her own people at that time, to recom
mend and to urge the reading of the Bible. She regarded this
as essential. This was another and great ground of offence.
Previous to this, Bishop D'Aranthon, with a kindness credi
table to him as a man and a Christian, had visited Madame
Guyon. She speaks of this visit in the following terms : " Soon
after my arrival at Gex, Bishop D'Aranthon came to see us. I

168 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
spoke to him of the religion of the heart. He was so clearly
convinced, and so much affected, that he could not forbear ex
pressing his feelings. He opened his heart on what God re
quired from him. He confessed his own deviations. Every
time, when I spoke to him on these subjects, he entered into
what I said, and acknowledged it to be the truth. But the
effect of what I said was done away in a considerable degree by
others. As soon as persons who sought for pre-eminence, and
could not suffer any good but what came from themselves, spoke
to him, he was so weak as to let himself be imposed upon with
impressions against the truth. This foible, with others, has
hindered him from doing all the good which otherwise he might
have done in his diocese."
D'Aranthon seems to have been a good man ; sincere, bene
volent, laborious. He encouraged the coming of Madame Guyon
into his diocese, and received her with kindness and respect.
When she conversed with him on the importance of possessing
a heart truly redeemed and sanctified through the blood of Christ,
the good bishop could not but feel that her conversation, woman
though she was, made him a wiser and a better man. But he
was wanting in fixedness of purpose.
Some were jealous of woman's influence ; others loved sin
more than they feared woman, and would have felt no uneasiness
at Madame Guyon's eloquence, if not employed in denouncing
their own baseness ; and others very sincerely believed that her
doctrines were more nearly allied to Protestantism, than to
Roman Catholic orthodoxy. These persons had an effect upon
D'Aranthon, who gradually, but apparently with reluctance,
assumed the attitude of opposition.
He returned from Gex to Anneci. The course subsequently
taken by La Combe, and especially his sermon, increased his
fears. It naturally confirmed him in this state, when he learned
that the new doctrine, involving the free and common use of the
Bible, and the value of ecclesiastical observances and ceremonies,
was extending itself. In this state of mind he made the pro
positions mentioned, thinking that her time would be so occupied

OF MADAME GUYON. 169
with the duties of her position as to prevent efforts in the dis
semination of her doctrines ; and that if not, her poverty would
render her dependent, and they could thus exact that compliance
from her weakness, which they had no expectation of extorting
from her moral principle.
From this time D'Aranthon, if he could not strictly be re
garded as an enemy, ceased to be a friend. Thus she was left
without any one on whom she could rely for adequate protection,
exposed to various trials, which were calculated severely to test
her patience and faith. Her doctrine was denounced as here
tical ; her character was aspersed ; and she was exposed to
personal inconveniences and dangers.
We have some notices of her inward experience at this time.
" In God I found," she says, " with increase everything which
I had lost. In my long state of special trial and deprivation,
my seven years' crucifixion, my intellect, as well as my heart,
seemed to be broken. But when God gave back to me that
love which I had supposed to be lost, although I had never
ceased to love Him, He restored the powers of perception and
thought also. That intellect, which I once thought I had lost
in a strange stupidity, was restored to me with inconceivable
advantages. I was astonished at myself. The understanding,
as well as the heart, seemed to have received an increased capa
city from God ; so much so that others noticed it, and spoke of
its greatly increased power. It seemed to me that I experienced
something of the state which the apostles were in, after they had
received the Holy Ghost. I knew, I comprehended, I was
enabled to do intellectually as well as physically, everything
which was requisite. I had every sort of good thing, and no
want of anything. I remembered that fine passage, which is
found in the apocryphal book called the Wisdom of Solomon.
Speaking of Wisdom, the writer, in the seventh chapter, says,
' I prayed, and understanding was given me ; I called upon God,
and the spirit of Wisdom came to me. I loved her above liealth
and beauty, and chose to have her instead of light ; for the light
that cometh from her never goeth out. All good things together

170 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
came to me with her, and innumerable riches in her hands.'
Wisdom came to me in Christ. When Jesus Christ, the Eternal
Wisdom, is formed in the soul, after the death of the first Adam,
it finds in Him all good things communicated to it."
. We are not to understand from the expressions just quoted
that God, in all cases, or even generally, accompanies the reno
vation and sanctification of the heart with a greatly increased
expansion and power of the intellect. Religion is good for the
intellect ; it helps the intellect ; clearing the mists of passion
and removing the incumbrances of prejudice, and giving an in-
. creased degree of clearness and energy, both of perception and
combination. In the case of Madame Guyon, her powers were rapid and
vast beyond ordinary examples ; and having been prostrated so
many years, they appeared at the time of her restoration the
more rapid and more vast and wonderful by the contrast. Add
to this that clearness and energy, which the renovation of the
heart, by being formed into Christ's image, always gives, and
I think we have an adequate explanation of the strong terms in
which she expresses herself.

CHAPTER XXIII.
Approaching trials — Consolations from Scripture — A dream — Some causes of the opposition
against her — Frustrates the designs of an ecclesiastic upon an unprotected girl — Opposi
tion and ill treatment from this source — A party against her— In consequence she leaves
Gex — Crosses the Genevan Lake to Thonon — Poem.
It was now fully evident that trials, which would be likely
to be very severe, awaited Madame Guyon. The sacrifices she
had made and the benevolence of her mission, were no security
against them. " I saw," she says, " that crosses in abundance
were likely to fall to my lot. The sky gradually thickened ;
the storm gathered darkness on every side. But I found support
and consolation in God and His Word. A passage in the twelfth

OF MADAME GUYON. 171
chapter of Hebrews was particularly blessed to me. 'Let us
run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto
Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith ; wrrb, for the joy that
was set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and
is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. For con
sider Him who endured such contradiction of sinners against
Himself, lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds' I had no
sooner read this consoling passage, than I prostrated myself, for
a long time, with my face on the floor. I offered myself to God,
to receive at His hand all the strokes which His providence
might see fit to inflict. I said to Him, Thou didst not spare
thine own beloved Son. It was thy holy one, thy loved one,
that thou didst account worthy to suffer. And in such as most
fully bear His image, thou dost still find those who are most
fitted to bear the heaviest burden of the cross."
Even her dreams, which by a natural law of the mind's action
repeat, although they sometimes greatly diversify, our waking
perceptions and thoughts, seemed mysteriously to confirm her
foreboding of sorrows to come. " I saw," she says, " in a sacred
and mysterious dream (for such I may very well describe it),
Father La Combe fastened to an enormous cross, deprived of
clothing, in the manner in which they paint our Saviour. I
saw around him, while hanging and suffering in this manner,
a frightful crowd ; which had the effect to cover me with con
fusion, and threw back upon myself the ignominy of a punish
ment, which at first seemed designed for him alone. So that,
although he appeared to suffer the most pain, it fell to my lot to
bear the heaviest reproaches. I have since beheld the intima
tions of this dream fully accomplished."
The alienation of Bishop D'Aranthon, which could not long
be kept secret, had its influence. But still it was her faithful
ness in proclaiming salvation by the cross of Christ, and her
fixedness of purpose in practically opposing wickedness, which
arrayed against her the greatest number, and those the most
virulent and uncompromising.
A single instance will illustrate this remark. An ecclesiastic

172 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
at Gex, prominent alike by position and personal influence,
endeavoured to form an intimacy with a beautiful female resi
dent at the Religious House, of which Madame Guyon was a
temporary inmate. Her greater knowledge of the world enabled
Madame Guyon to see, much more distinctly than the unpro
tected and unsuspicious maid herself, the dangers to which she
was exposed. Animated by humanity, as well as Christian
charity, she not only warned the girl of the dangerous artifices
which beset her, but endeavoured to instruct her in the principles
of religion, and to lead her to a knowledge of Jesus Christ. The
girl was distinguished for powers of mind, and gave her most
vigorous thoughts to the great subject thus presented to her.
" God so blessed my efforts," says Madame Guyon, " that this
interesting maid, under the guidance of the great inward
Teacher, became truly pious ; giving herself to God apparently
with her whole heart." Naturally she became reserved and
guarded towards the ecclesiastic mentioned. This man became
from this time the bitter enemy of Madame Guyon, and all who
sympathized with her.
He formed a little party and put himself at the head of it, the
sole object of which was to render Madame Guyon's situation as
uncomfortable as possible, and ultimately to drive her from Gex.
Beginning, after the manner of those with whom the end sanc
tifies the means, with secret insinuations unfavourable to her
character, he pursued his object in various ways, with a perse
verance worthy of a better cause. " This ecclesiastic," she
says, " began to talk privately of me in a manner calculated to
bring me into contempt. I was not ignorant of what he was
doing ; but having, by Divine grace, learned the great lesson of
pitying and forgiving my enemies, I let everything pass un
noticed and in silence.
" At this time there came a certain friar to see the person of
whom I am speaking. The friar, who mortally hated Father
La Combe, on account of his greater regularity and religious
principle, combined his efforts with the other, to drive me from
the Religious House in which I resided, and thus leave them to

OF MADAME GUYON. 173
manage there in their own way, without any opposing influences.
All the means which they could deviso they practised for that
purpose. They succeeded, after a time, in gaining over one of
the sisters of the House, who acted in the capacity of house-
steward ; and soon afterwards they gained the prioress."
Her situation was rendered as uncomfortable and unpleasant
as possible. " I was disposed," she says, " to do all the good I
could, physically as well as mentally ; but being of a delicate
frame, I had but little strength. I had employed two maid
servants to aid me and my daughter, but finding that the Reli
gious Community, in which I resided, had need of them, the one
for a cook, and the other to attend the door and other purposes,
I consented that they should have their services. In doing this,
I naturally supposed that they would occasionally allow me their
aid, especially as I had given them all the funds which I then
had in possession, and had thus put it out of my power to employ
other persons. But under the new influences and designs, I was
not allowed to realize this reasonable expectation. I was com
pelled to do my sweeping and washing and other domestic
offices, which I had a right to expect, in part at least, from
them." Another part of the system of vexation consisted in attacks
upon her room at night. By some sort of contrivance known
only to those who were in the secret, frightful images were made
to appear in her room or at the windows? Frightful sounds
were uttered. The sashes of the room were broken. But
though she was thus subjected to inconvenience and disturbance,
she says that the calm peace of her soul was wholly unbroken.
Among other things, the ecclesiastic at the head of these
movements, caused all the letters sent to her from friends abroad,
and also the letters which she sent to them, to be intercepted.
He had at one time twenty-two intercepted letters lying on his
table. His objeet was, she says, " to have it in his power to
make what impressions he pleased, no matter how unfavourable,
on the minds of others, and to do it in such a manner that I
should neither be able to know it, nor to defend myself, nor to

174 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
send my friends any account of the manner in which I was
treated." She had ties which bound her to Gex. She had made impres
sions which could not easily be obliterated. The good girl
whom she rescued from the artifices of the ecclesiastic, she says,
" grew more and more fervent, by the practice of prayer, in the
dedication of herself to the Lord, and more and more tender in
her sympathy with me." And this was only one instance among
many. But still she thought the providences of God indicated
that the time had come when she should leave the place. It
seemed to her, after a deliberate and prayerful consideration, that
at Thonon, where she could more easily receive advice and
assistance from La Combe, she might suffer less, and do more
good. And in a few days more, she embarked again in a little
boat, with her two maid-servants and her young daughter.
Probably this was early in the spring of 1682. She had resided
at Gex something more than half a year. This was the second
time she had crossed the Leman Lake. There were no storms
that day — neither was there storm nor trouble within. The
calm lake, decorated in its vernal beauty, was nature's happy
image of her own pure and peaceful mind. Without complaint,
believing that God was glorified in what she had done and suf
fered, she went forth once more, a pilgrim and a stranger, to
seek other associates, meet other trials, and sow seed for God in
other places. •
The following poem describes her feeelings at this time : —

THE CHRISTIAN'S HOPES AND CONSOLATIONS CONTRASTED WITH
THE WORLD'S UNBELIEF AND RUIN.
My heart is easy, and my burden light ;
I smile, though sad, when God is in my sight.
The more my woes in secret I deplore,
I taste thy goodness, and I love thee more.
There, while a solemn stillness reigns around,
Faith, love, and hopo, within my soul abound ;
And while the world suppose mo lost in care,
The joys of angels unperceived I share.

OF MADAME GUYON. 175
Thy creatures wrong thee, O thou Sovereign Good !
Thou art not loved, because not understood ;
This grieves me most, that vain pursuits beguile
Ungrateful men, regardless of thy smile.
Frail beauty and false honour are adored ;
While Thee tlwy scorn, and trifle with thy word ;
Pass, unconcern* dt a Saviour's sorrows by.
And hunt their ruin with a zeal to die.

CHAPTER XXIV.
Arrives at Thonon — Interview with Father La Combe — He leaves Thonon for Aost and
Rome — Her remarks to him— Confidence that God would justify her — Cases of religious
Inquiry — Endeavours to teach those who came to her — Some characteristics of a soul that
lives by faith — References to her daughter — Visited at Thonon by Bishop d'Aranthon —
Renewal of his proposition — Final decision against it — Her position in the Roman
Catholic Church — References to persons who have attempted a reform in that Church —
Attacks upon the character of La Combe in his absence — General attention to religion at
Thonon — Manner of treating inquirers — Views of sanctification — Pious laundress — Oppo
sition by priests and others — Burning of books — Remarks.
In the spring of 1682 she reached Thonon. It is a consider
able place, sixteen miles north-east of Geneva, situated on the
eastern side of the lake, near the mouth of the Drance. It is
the capital of Chablais, one of the provinces of the Duchy of
Savoy. Having reached this place she became resident, as a
boarder, in the Ursuline Convent, with her little family.
The day after her arrival, Father La Combe left Thonon for
the city of Aost, some sixty or seventy miles distant. Learn
ing the unexpected arrival of Madame Guyon, he visited her
before he left. He expressed his sympathy in the trials she was
called to endure ; and said that he was sorry to leave her in a
strange country, persecuted as she was by every one, without
any to advise and aid her. And the more so, as it was his in
tention to proceed from Aost, whence he was called on business
of a religious nature to Rome. And he might be detained at
Rome by those who had authority over him, for some time.
Undoubtedly this was a disappointment to Madame Guyon.
She did not wish anything which came to her in God's provi-

176 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
dence, to be otherwise than it was. She says, " I replied to him,
' My Father, your departure gives me no pain. When God
aids me through His creatures, I am thankful for it. But I
value their instrumentality and aid, only as they are subordinate
to God's glory, and come in God's order. When God sees fit to
withdraw the consolations and aids of His people, I am satisfied
to do without them. And much as I should value your presence
in this season of trial, I am very well content never to see you
again, if such is God's will.' " Well satisfied to find her in such
a frame of mind, he took his leave and departed.
It was not the practice of Madame Guyon to be in haste to
justify herself. This course, so different from that which is
commonly pursued, which might perhaps appear questionable,
she adopted on religious principle. At Gex her doctrines had
been attacked ; her peace assailed by personal rudenesses and
violence ; and, what must have been deeply afflicting to a woman
constituted as she was, secret insinuations, unfavourable to her
moral character, were circulated with unfeeling industry. But
she left all with God. She believed that innocence and truth
will always find, in God's time and way, a protector. Never
will He fail to speak and act for the innocent and the upright,
if they will only put their trust in Him in this thing as in others.
The truly holy heart will always say, Let God's will be accom
plished upon me, as well as accomplished for me. If it be God's
will that I should suffer rebuke, misrepresentation, and calumny,
let me not desire the removal of the yoke which His hand has
imposed upon me, until He himself shall desire it. She left her
vindication with God, and she found Him faithful.
It seems to have been her intention to spend a few weeks after
her arrival at Thonon in retirement, as she needed rest, both
physically and mentally. Accordingly, she had a room appro
priated to her own private use, where, with her Bible before
her, she passed many hours in acquiring spiritual knowledge
and in Divine communion. But something which had more of
heaven than earth in it, breathed in her voice, embodied itself
in her manners, and shone in the devout serenity of her conn-

OF MADAME GUYON. 177
tenance ; so that it was not necessary for her to set up formally
as a preacher, and she had no inclination to do so. Her sermon
was her life ; and her eloquent lips only made the application
of it. Wherever she went, she found those whom she calls her
children. They came to her continually that she might break
to them the living bread.
" My inward resignation and quiet,'' she says, " was very
great. For a few days I remained alone and undisturbed, in
my small and solitary room. I had full leisure to commune
with God and to enjoy Him. But after a short time a good
sister, who desired conversation on religious subjects, frequently
interrupted me. I entered into conversation, and answered
everything she desired, not only from a regard and love for the
girl herself, but from a fixed principle I had of strictly conform
ing to whatever God's providence seemed to require of me.
Although this season of solitary communion with God was very
precious to me, I was obliged to interrupt it, whenever His pro
vidence required. As soon as any of those who sought salva
tion through Christ, my little children, if I may call them such,
came and knocked at my door, God required me to admit the
interruption. In this way He showed me that it is not actions,
in themselves considered, which please Him, but the inward spirit
with which they are done ; and especially the constant ready
obedience to every discovery of His will, even in the minutest
things. " I endeavoured to instruct the good sisters, who came to me,
in the best way I could. Some of them could perhaps be re
garded as truly religious ; but after an imperfect manner. It
was my object to instruct them in the way of living by simple
faith, in distinction from living ceremonially; and thus to lead
them to rest upon God alone through Christ. I remarked to
them, that the way of living by faith was much more glorious
to God, and much more advantageous to the soul, than any
other method of living ; and that they must not only cease to
rely much upon outward ceremonies, but must not rely too
much upon sights and sounds, in whatever way they might come
M

J78 LIFE AND RELItJIOUS EXPERIENCE
to the soul ; nor upon mere intellectual illuminations and gifts,
nor upon strong temporary emotions and impulses, which cause
the soul to rest upon something out of God and to live to self.
There is a mixed way of living, partly by faith, and partly by
works ; and also the simple and true way of living, namely, by
faith alone, which is the true parent not only of other states of
the mind, but of works also.
" There are not many souls that reach this state ; and still
fewer that reach it at once. Nature cries out against the pro
cess of inward crucifixion, and the greater number stop short.
Oh, if souls had courage enough to resign themselves to the
work of purification, without having any weak or foolish pity
on themselves, what a noble, rapid, and happy progress would
they make ! But, generally speaking, men have too little faith,
too little courage, to leave the shore, which is something tangible
and solid, and has the support of sense, and to go out upon the
sea, which has the supports of faith only. They advance, per
haps, some little distance ; but when the wind blows and the
cloud lowers, and the sea is tossed to and fro, then they are de
jected, they cast anchor, and often wholly desist from the prose
cution of the voyage.
" Oh thou, who alone dost conduct holy souls, and who
canst teach ways so hidden and so lost to human sight, bring to
thyself souls innumerable, which may love thee in the utmost
purity. Such holy souls are the delight of God, ' who delights
to be with the children of men ;' that is to say, with souls child
like and innocent, such as are set free from pride, ascribing to
themselves, separate from God, only nothingness and sin.
" Such souls, which are no longer rebellious, but are broken
to the yoke, are one with God, and are one with Him to such a
degree, that they not only look at Him only, but they look at
everything else in Him. Beautifully expressive of a spirit quiet
and united with God, is that passage of Jeremiah where it is
said, ' He sitteth alone and keepeth silence, because he hath borne
God's yoke upon him.' (Lam. iii. 28.)
" How perfectly contented is such a soul ! It is more satisfied

OF MADAME GUYON. 179
in its trials, its humiliation, and the opposition of all creatures,
when these things take place by the order of Providence, than
it would be with the highest success and triumph by its own
choice. Oh, if I could express what I conceive of this state !
But I can only stammer about it."
In this part of her Autobiography, we find some brief refer
ences to her daughter. Separated from her other children, this
child was a source of great consolation to her. Finding her
situation at Gex not favourable to her health, she had previously
sent her for a short time to Thonon. Her feeling allusions show
that her union with God did not diminish her interest in hu- i
manity ; and that the natural affections, when properly subor
dinated, are not inconsistent with the highest religions affections.
" In great peace of mind," she says, " I lived in the House of
the Ursulines with my little daughter. As we now resided
among those who spoke a different dialect, my daughter soon
forgot, in a considerable degree, the use of the French language.
She played with the little girls that came down from the neigh
bouring mountains ; but while she contracted something of their
elasticity and freeness, she lost something in tbe delicacy and
agreeableness of her manners. She was sometimes fretful ; but
as a general thing her disposition, as it ever had been, was ex
ceedingly good. Her good sense and her turns of wit, for one of
her age, were surprising. God watched over her."
Madame Guyon had been at Thonon but a short time, when
Bishop D'Aranthon came there on some business. They met
once more, and had much conversation. The Bishop pressed her
very much to return to Gex, and take the place of prioress. She
Says, " I gave him my reasons against it. I then appealed to
him as a bishop, desiring him to take care, and to regard nothing
but God in what he should say to me. He was struck with a
kind of confusion, and then said to me, ' Since you speak to me
in this manner, I cannot adviso you to it. We are not at liberty
to go contrary to what appears to be our religious calling. All
I can say now, after what has passed between us, is, that I de
sire you to render to the House of Gex all the assistance which

ISO LIFE AND RULIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
you properly can.' This I promised to do ; and as soon as I re
ceived a remittance from Paris, I sent them a hundred pistoles,
with the design of doing it annually as long I should remain in
his diocese."
When he left her, he yielded to the influence of others, and
accordingly sent her word again, that it was his conviction that
she ought to engage herself at Gex ; and that, so far as his in
fluence or authority could properly be exercised, he required her
to do it. " I returned for answer," she says, '' that I had rea
son to regard him at the present time as under human influence,
and as speaking as a man ; and that I felt it my duty to follow
the counsel he had given me, when he seemed to me to be under
a purer and higher influence, and to speak as from God."
The separation now became more marked and complete. And
from this time onward, Madame Guyon understood, more dis
tinctly and fully than at any former period, the position which
she held in the Roman Catholic Church. She was in the Church,
but not with it ; in it in form, but not with it in spirit. Her
¦ associations with it were strong ; her attachment to it was great ;
but discerning very clearly the distinction between inward and
outward religion, between that which adheres to the ceremony
and that which renovates the heart, she mourned over the de
clensions and desolations around her. She felt, however, that
while she pointed out the speculative and practical errors which
existed, provided she did it with a proper spirit, and sustained
herself by Catholic authorities, she had a right to claim and
maintain her position in the Church, until she should be formally
excluded from it. She was very much in the position of certain
' pious persons who, without ceasing to be members, have laboured
from time to time in that Church, witli the design of restoring
the doctrine of faith and the spirit of practical piety ; and who
are known historically, in reference to the period at which most
of them appeared, as the Reformers before the Reformation.
There have been in the Roman Catholic Church, from time
to time, pious men and women, who have laboured sincerely
and oftentimes effectually for the true life of love and faith in

OF MADAME GUYON. 181
the soul. If they have loved their system much, and have felt sad
at tho idea of schism, they have loved salvation and piety more.
Sometimes their labours have been received and recognised ; and
they have been spoken of as the models of piety, without the im
putation of heresy ; but more frequently their motives have been
impeached, their efforts opposed, and in some instances exile and
imprisonment have been the consequence. Some appeared before
the Protestant Reformation, and some since. To those who are
acquainted with ecclesiastical history, it will indicate the class
of persons to whom we refer, if we mention the Dominican monk,
John of Vincenza, who laboured as far back as 1250 ; Thauler,
the celebrated preacher of Strasburg, who is mentioned with
high respect and commendation by Luther ; Gerard Groot, and
Florentius Radewin, leaders and teachers in the society or sect
in the Catholic Church, called the Brethren of the Life in Com
mon ; John of the Cross, whose writings, although not schis-
matical in reference to the doctrines and forms of Roman
Catholicism, breathe a deeply devout and enlightened spirit.
To these we might add the names of Ruysbroke, Canfiekl,
Thomas-a-Kcmpis, Boudon, John de Castanifa, the reputed
author of the " Spiritual Combat," Michael de Molinos, who
died in prison (while Francis de Sales, who seems to me to have
taught essentially the same experimental doctrines, was can
onized), Fenelon, and many others.
The position of many of these persons illustrates that of
Madame Guyon. Of their piety there can be no reasonable
doubt. They were persons of faith and true simplicity of heart,
who wished, although they found themselves amid various em
barrassments, to do all possible good in the situation in which
Providence had placed them. They did not and could not be
lieve, that an outward form, however scriptural and important,
could effectually avail themselves or others, when separate from
an appropriate state of heart.
It was not sufficient, in their view, to teach men to make the
sign of the cross, and practise genuflexions, nor to do other
things in themselves purely ceremonial. They preached the

182 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
I doctrine of a new heart ; they required, in the name of Him for
whom they boldly spoke, " repentance towards God and faith in
the Lord Jesus Christ." And such being their views and
practice, if they cannot be regarded as schismatics or separatists,
they may justly be described as reformers. Such was the posi
tion of Madame Guyon — one of great usefulness, but which could
not well escape a large share of trial and sorrow.
La Combe had no sooner departed than the party at Thonon,
opposed to the new movement, began to assail his character.
Madame Guyon had her feelings greatly tried by the extrava
gant stories which were told her. But these statements were so
obviously dictated by prejudice and passion, and so variant in
many particulars from what she knew to be the truth, that they
confirmed rather than diminished her favourable opinions of him.
She did not, however, say much upon the subject ; simply re
marking, " Perhaps I may never see him again ; but I shall
ever be glad to do him justice. It is not he who hinders me
from engaging at Gex, as some of the remarks which are made
seem to imply. The reason, and the only reason of my refusing
to comply, is the inward conviction, of which I cannot divest
myself, that God does not call me to it."
Some said to her, — " But it is the opinion of the Bishop that
you should go there. Ought he not to judge in the case? Who
could know what the will of God is on such a question better
than the Bishop ?" To this suggestion it was not in her nature
or her principles, to give any other than a respectful attention.
But such was the clearness of her spiritual perception, such the
inward signature which God and His providences had written
upon her heart, that she could not do otherwise than she did ;
although it undoubtedly violated some of the prepossessions of
her people in favour of Episcopal advice and authority.
This matter, therefore, was permanently decided ; and she
gave her attention anew and undividedly to the work before
her. In the spirit of unremitting labour where God called her
to labour, she did what she could ; and tho good seed, small
though it might seem to be to human eye, became a hundred-

OF MADAME GUYON. 183
fold, because God blessed it. Her presence, preceded as it had
been by her reputation for piety and a knowledge of the inward
state, was the signal for a great spiritual movement in Thonon.
There was something in souls who had sought heaven by works
alone, and on the compensatory principle of so much happiness
for so much labour and suffering, whieh whispered to them that
God in His providence had sent them a messenger who might
aid them in the knowledge of a better way.
The consequence was that her room was continually visited,
in a few weeks after her arrival at Thonon, by persons seeking
instruction. She divided them into three classes ; those without
religion ; those who gave evidence of religion, but had no faith
for anything above the mixed method of life, the way of mingled
sin and holiness ; and those who, under the special operation of
God's Spirit, were hungering and thirsting after entire righte
ousness. When those came to her who were without religion, and
perhaps had been endeavouring to extract heaven from the merit
attached to their supposed good works, she endeavoured to con
vince them of the folly of their course, by showing them the
intricacies of the human heart, the depths of sin, and the im
possibility of acceptance with God, except through the applica
tion of the atoning blood of Christ, received through faith.
When those came who had some little hope of an interest
in the Saviour, some degree and power of life though feeble,
she gave them directions suited with great skill to their case,
calculated to resolve conscientious perplexities, to strengthen
courage, and help their advancement. Entire victory was so
much beyond their present ideas and hopes, that, lo propose it
now, might have operated as a discouragement.
When those came who desired to be wholly the Lord's, and,
in the language of Scripture, were hungering and thirsting that
they might bear the fulness of the Divine image, she endea
voured to impart those higher and deeper instructions which
they seemed able to understand and bear.
She did not hesitate to say at once, on all occasions where

184 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
God's providence called her to say it, that the entire sanctifica
tion of the heart through faith, is the Christian's privilege and
duty. But she laid " the axe to the root of the tree." She
thought it necessary, in the first place, that they should under
stand what sanctification is. On this point, taught by her own
experience, she felt it very desirable that there should be no
mistake. She felt it her duty to say to them, that a rectified
1 intellectual perception is not sanctification. Nor, if we add,
strong emotions and stop there, do we attain to it. Nor, if we
go still deeper, and add to both what is still more important,
good desires, good and right affections, and stop there, can we
account ourselves as wholly the Lord's. Holiness goes even
further than this. It requires the strong fortress of the Will.
The will, which embodies in itself both the head and the
heart, the perceptions, the emotions, and the desires, and is in
fact the sum and representation of the whole, must be given to
the Lord.
Upon this point she was in the habit of trying those who pro
fessed to be seeking the entire sanctification of the heart. The
searching question was — were they willing to be nothing — no
thing in themselves, in order that the Lord might be All in A ll ?
Gould they say that they moved simply as they were moved
upon by the Holy Ghost ? If so, then the life of nature was
slain ; their souls had become the temple of the Living God.
Among other persons who sought her acquaintance, was a
woman who was not only religious, but, according to tho ordinary
rules of judgment, eminently religious. She had grace, perhaps
great grace ; but not to the exclusion of the life of nature. She
says, " I saw clearly that it is not great gifts which sanctify,
unless they are accompanied with a profound humility. No one
can be regarded as wholly alive to God, and thus as a true saint
of God, who is not wholly dead to self. This woman, in con
nexion with her great intellectual lights, and strong emotions,
and the true faith to some degree, regarded herself as a truly
holy person ; but her subsequent life showed that she was very
far from the state which she professed.

OF MADAME GUYON. 18.1*
" 0 my God," she adds, " how true it is that we may have of
thy gifts, and yet may be very full of ourselves ! How very
narrow is the way, how strait is the gate, which leads to the
true life in God I How little must one become, by being stripped
of all the various attachments which the world places about him,
so that he shall have no desire and no will of his own, before he
is small enough to go through this narrow place."
Another class not only watched her general conduct, but,
under religious pretences, made their appearance at her religious
conversations, which seem to have been open to all, with the
object " of watching her words, and criticising them." The
religious life, like all other life, has its appropriate outward ex
pressions and signs. And such was her deep insight into reli
gious character, derived partly from her own varied personal
experience, that she distinguished with great ease the objects
and characters of those who visited her. To those who came
for the purpose of extracting something which they could criti
cise and condemn, she had nothing to say. " Even when I
thought to try to speak to them," she says, " I felt that I could
not, and that God would not have me do it. They went away
not only disappointed but dissatisfied. They alluded scornfully
to my silence, which they regarded as stupidity ; and some of
them were so angry as to characterize as fools those who had
come to see me.
" On one occasion, when persons of this description had just
left me, an individual came, with some appearance of anxiety
and hurry, and said, ' It was my design to have put you on your
guard, and to apprize you that it might not be advisable to speak
to those persons ; but I found myself unable to get hither in
season to do it. They were sent, with no friendly purpose, to
find something in your remarks which they could turn to your
disadvantage' I answered this person, ' Our Lord has been
before you in your charitable purpose ; for such was my state
of mind, that I was not able to say one word to them.' "
She did not appear as a preacher. Her efforts were private ;
and entirely consistent with that sense of decorum which adorns

186 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
the female character. They consisted of private prayer and
conversation with individuals ; sometimes of mutual conversa
tions or conferences, held with the inconsiderable number of
persons assembled in a small room. To these methods she
added, with great effect, that of written correspondence. The
instrumentality was humble, but the impression was great. The
Lord blessed her ; and for a time, soon after her arrival at
Thonon, she had favour with the great body of persons there.
Amid this general approbation and even applause, " the Lord,"
she says, " gave me to understand that the ' apostolic state,'
(that is, the state in which persons find themselves specifically
and especially devoted to the spiritual good of others,) if it be
entered into in purity of spirit and without reserve, will always
be attended with severe trials. I remembered the words of the
multitude, which preceded the Saviour at the time of His tri
umphant entry into Jerusalem — ' Blessed is he that cometh in the
name of the Lord;' and the words of the same changeable mul
titude a few days afterwards, when they exclaimed, ' Away with
him ! Crucify him, crucify him /' And while I was thus meditat
ing on what the Saviour experienced, and from whom, and was
making the application of it to my own case, one of my female
friends came in, and spoke to me particularly of the general
esteem which the people had for me. I replied to her, ' Observe
what I now tell you, that you will hear curses out of the same
mouths, which at present pronounce blessings.' "
" Great was my consolation," she says, " never did I experi
ence greater in my whole life, than to see in the town of Thonon,
a place of no great extent, so many souls earnestly seeking God.
Some of these seemed to have given their whole hearts to God,
and experienced the highest spiritual blessings. Among them
were a number of girls of twelve or thirteen years of age. It
was interesting to see how deeply the Spirit of God had wrought
in them. Being poor, they industriously followed their work
all the day long ; but having acquired a fixed habit of devotion,
they sanctified their labours with silent prayer and inward com
munion. Sometimes they would so arrange their daily labour,

OF MADAME GUYON. 187
that a number of them could carry on their work at the same
place ; and then they would select one, who read to them while
the others pursued their task. They were so humble, so inno
cent, and sincere, that one could not see them without being
reminded of the innocence and purity of primitive Christi
anity." She mentions particularly a poor woman, a laundress. " This
poor woman," she says, " was the mother of five children. But
her poverty, and the cares of her family, were not tho only
source of trouble. She had a husband distempered both in mind
and in body. He seemed to have nothing left mentally but his
angry dispositions, and nothing left physically but just strength
enough in his unparalyzed arm to beat his suffering wife. Yet
this poor woman, now become, under God's grace, rich in faith,
bore all with the meekness and patience of an angel. By her
personal labours she supported both her five children and her
husband. Her poverty was extreme ; her suffering from other
causes great ; but amid her trials and distractions, she kept con
stantly recollected in God ; and her tranquillity of spirit was
unbroken. When she prayed, there was something wonderful
in it.
" Among others there was a shopkeeper, and a man whose
business it was to make locks. Both became deeply religious ;
and, as was natural, they became intimate friends with each
other. Learning the situation of the poor laundress, they agreed
to visit her in turn, and to render her some assistance by read
ing to her. But they were surprised to learn, that she was
already instructed by the Lord himself in all they read to her.
God, they found, had taught her inwardly by the Holy Ghost,
before He had sent, in His providence, the outward aid of
books and pious friends to confirm His inward communications.
So much was this the case, that they were willing to receive
instruction from her. Her words seemed Divine."
This woman attracted the notice of certain persons of some
name and authority in the Church. They visited her ; and, as
her method of worship was somewhat out of Church order,

188 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
they reproved her, and told her it was very bold in her to prac
tise prayer in the manner she did. They said it was the busi
ness of priests to pray, and not of women. They commanded
her to leave off prayer, in the methods in which she practised it,
and threatened her if she did not. The woman was ignorant,
except so fur as she had learned something from the Bible, and
as God had inwardly taught her. God gave her words in reply.
She said, that what she did was in conformity with Christ's
instructions. She referred them to the thirteenth chapter of
Mark, where Christ instructed His disciples to pray ; noticing
particularly the remark which is added, namely, " What I say .
unto you, I say unto all." This passage, she said, authorized
all to pray, without specifying priests or friars, or giving them
any privilege in this respect above others. She told them,
moreover, that she was a poor and suffering woman, and that
prayer helped her ; and that, in truth, without the consolations
of religion, of which prayer is the appropriate and natural ex
pression, she could not support her trials.
She referred also to her former life. She had formerly been
without religion, and was a wicked person. Since she had
known religion, and held communion with God in prayer, she
had loved Him, and she thought she could say she loved Him
with her whole soul. To leave off prayer were to lose her spiri
tual life. Therefore she could not do it. She also directed
their attention to other persons, who had recently come into a
state similar to her own. Take twenty persons, she said, who
are religious, and observe their life. Take twenty other persons
who do not practise prayer and know nothing of the religion of
the heart, and make the same observation. And judge then,
whether you have any good reason for condemning this work
of God." Such words as these," says Madame Guyon, " from such a
woman, might have fully convinced them. But instead of that,
they only served to irritate them the more." They threatened
her with a withdrawal of the privileges of the Church, unless
she promised to desist from her course ; that is to say, unless

OF MADAME GUYON. 189
she promised not only to renounce the reading of the Bible, and
the practice of inward and outward prayer, but to renounce
Christ himself. Her answer was, that she had no choice in the
matter. The decision was already made. Christ was Master,
and she must follow Him. They put their threats into execu
tion to some extent. But she remained stedfast.
The persons who represented the dominant part of the ortho
dox Church in Thonon, finding their efforts in a great measure
ineffectual, next took the course of ordering all the books with
out exception, which treated of the inward religious life, to be
brought to them ; and they burned them with their own hands
in the public square of the place. " With this performance,"
says Madame Guyon, " they were greatly elated."
In a letter found in the Life of Bishop D'Aranthon, the writer
says, " We have burnt five of the books on these subjects. We
have not much expectation of getting possession of many others,
for the men and women who read them, have their private meet
ings or assemblies, and have resolved that they will burn the
books themselves, rather than let them fall into our hands."
Madame Guyon gives us further to understand, that some of
the persons engaged in these things, were apparently religious ;
but religious in the common mixed way, partly human and partly
Divine," partly from earth and partly from heaven. Consequently,
so much of their actions as was not from God was from that
which is tbe opposite of God, namely, Satan. And this was
particularly the case in their treatment of the pious girls who,
being poor and obliged to work continually, formed little neigh
bourhood associations ; prosecuting in this way their work toge
ther, and those who were strong helping the weak. The eldest
presided at these little meetings ; and the one best qualified for
that task was appointed reader. They employed themselves in
spinning, weaving ribbons, and other feminine occupations.
Prayer and religious love made all pleasant. Such assemblies
are not uncommon among Protestants, but the prevalent religi
ous party at Thonon considered them inconsistent with the
Roman Catholic methods. And, accordingly, they separated

190 i LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
these poor but happy girls from each other, deprived them, as a
punishment, of their usual church privileges, and drove some of
them from the place.
It is painful to speak of these things. I do not suppose that
aspersions, cruelties, persecutions, are limited altogether to Roman
Catholics. Some will say, that conduct of this kind is the
natural result of that interest in religious institutions which is
implied in true faith. This may, perhaps, bo true in a certain
sense. But add more faith ; and then tho evil will not be likely
to result. A little faith makes us love the cause of religion ; but
it leaves us in fear, which would not be the case if we had more
faith. We tremble for the ark of God, as if not God, but some
son of Obed-edoui, or other weak and human agent, were the
keeper of it. Faith and fear are the opposites of each other,
both mentally and theologically. When priests have per
secuted, I would not in all cases, nor generally, attribute it
to self-interest, or the fact of "their craft being in danger."
Self-interest, especially among those who have felt the influ
ences of religion, is not the only principle of human action.
Persecutions have been practised by those who verily thought
they were doing God service. These good people of Thonon
had confounded the Church with the ceremonies of the Church ;
and when Madame Guyon felt it her duty to indicate the
difference between the substance and the shadow, the spirit
and the letter, touching the ^ceremonial it is true, but still with
the gentleness of a woman's hand, then the good Catholics, to
whom the ceremonial was undoubtedly very dear, were all in
arms. Their consternation was real, not affected. They forgot
that God is able to take care of the Church without employing
Satan's instrumentality. Hence their injustice, their cruelty —
not because they had faith, but because they had not more
faith ; not because they loved the Church, but because they had
forgotten the mighty power and the pledged promise of the God
of the Church. Of some who did evil, Christ, who is the true
light, said, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they
do. Of those who do good, but are persecuted for it, the same

OF MADAME GUYON. 191
Christ has said, Blessed are they who are persecuted for right
eousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

CHAPTER XXV.
Conversion of a physician— Further persecution — Some opposers become subjects of the
work of God — Striking instauces of tho caro of Providence — Visit to Lausanne — Establish
ment of an hospital at Thonon— Removal to a small cottage a few miles distant — Return
of La Combe — Her opposers appeal to Bishop D'Aranthon — He requires Madame Guyon
and La Combe to leave~his diocese — Rude and fierce attacks upon her — Decides to leave
Thonon — Her feelings — La Combe — His letter to D'Aranthon — Remarks of Madame
Guyon on some forms of religious experience — On living by the moment.
She mentions a number of incidents, some of them of consider
able interest, in connexion with this revival of God's work.
" One day," she remarks, " I was sick. A physician of some
eminence in his profession, hearing that I was ill, called to see
me, and gave me medicines proper for my disorder. I entered
into conversation with him on the subject of religion. He ac
knowledged that he had known something of the power of reli
gion, but that the religious life had been stifled by the multitude
of his occupations. I endeavoured to make him comprehend,
that the love of God is not inconsistent with the duties of
humanity ; and that therefore the employments which God in
His providence assigns us, are no excuse for irreligion, or for any
state of mind short of a strong and consistent piety. The con
versation, was greatly blessed to him. And he became after
wards a decided Christian."
Those persons, who made the opposition to this DiviDe work,
among their other acts of cruelty, seized upon a person of con
siderable distinction and merit, and beat him with rods in the
open street. The crime charged against him was, that, instead
of confining himself to the common forms of prayer, he prayed
extemporaneously in the evenings. The man was a priest, of
the Congregation of the Oratory. It was alleged also, that he
was in the practice of uttering a short, fervent prayer, in the

192 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
same manner, on Sabbath days, which had the effect gradually
and insensibly to lead others to the use and practice of the like.
Speaking of the persons who thus violently beat this good
man, and of others, she says, " They greatly troubled and
afflicted all the good souls, who had sincerely dedicated them
selves to God ; disturbing them to a degree which it is difficult
to conceive ; burning all their books which treated of inward
submission and of the prayer of the heart, in distinction from
mere outward and formal prayer; refusing absolution to such
as were iu the practice of it, and driving them by their threats
into consternation and almost into despair."
But this state of things, which had the appearance of crush
ing religion, gave occasion for a remarkable exhibition of God's
power and grace. Even some of these men, obviously without
religion, led to reflect upon their own characters by the sad
lesson of the violence which they themselves had exhibited, be
came, after a short time, humbled in heart. Through Divine
grace they not only ceased from their evil works, but became
experimentally and practically new creatures in Christ Jesus.
" And then," she says, " the Lord made use of them to establish
religion and the life of prayer in I know not how many places.
They carried books, which treated of the inward life, into those
very places where they had formerly burned them. In things
of this nature it was not difficult for me, in the exercise of faith,
to see the presence and the wonderful goodness and power of the
Lord." Some little incidents of a private and domestic nature, illus
trate her trust in God.
" God," she says, " took care of all my concerns. I saw His
providence incessantly extended to the very smallest things. I
had sent to Paris for some papers. Months passed, but the papers
did not come. Looking at it in the human light, the disappoint
ment and the loss were great. But I left it wholly with the
Lord. After some months I received a letter from an ecclesi
astic at Paris, stating that the papers were in his possession, and
that he would soon come to see me and bring them.

OF MADAME GUYON. 193
"At another time I had sent to Paris for a considerable num
ber of articles necessary for my daughter. They were sent, but
did not arrive. The report was, that they had reached the
Leman Lake, were put on board a boat, and were lost. I could
learn no further tidings about them. But I left it wholly with
the Lord. Having done all that was suitable, if they were
found, it was well; if they were lost, it was equally well. At
the end of three months they were brought to me, having been
found in the house of a poor man, who had not opened them, and
did not know who brought them to his house.
" On another occasion I sent to Paris for money to meet my
expenses for a year. I received it in a bill of exchange on
some person in Geneva. A person was sent from Thonon to
Geneva to receive it in specie. The money was deposited in two
bags, and placed on the man's horse. The man rather carelessly
gave the horse to be led by a boy a little distance. As the boy
went along, directing his way through the market of Geneva,
the money fell off without being noticed by him.
" At that very moment I arrived myself, approaching the
market-place on the other side. Having alighted from the con
veyance, I proceeded a few steps, and the first thing I noticed
was my bag of money. There was a great multitude of people
in the place ; but the bag was not perceived by them ;' or if it
was, it was left untouched. Many such things have attended
me, which to avoid prolixity I pass by. These may suffice to
show the continual protection of God towards me."
Meanwhile the work of God continued. Sinners were con
versed with ; those who were religious prayed ; those without
religion began to believe and were saved. When opportunity
offered, Madame Guyon, whose efforts were unwearied, extended
her labours into the neighbouring villages. On one occasion
Bhe made an excursion by water to Lausanne, situated on
the lake, about fourteen miles from Thonon, and nearly opposite
to it.
" In our return," Bhe says, " we experienced a severe tempest.
We were in a dangerous place, when it came upon us, and nar-
N

194 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
rowly escaped being swallowed in the waves. God was pleased
to protect us. A few days afterwards a small vessel foundered
nearly in the same place, with thirty-three persons in it."
About this time Father La Combe, who had returned from
Rome, formed the plan of establishing an Hospital at Thonon.
Subordinate to tbe general plan, the ladies of Thonon formed a
society, the object of which was, after the practice which pre
vailed in France, to aid the families of the sick at the hospital,
as well as the sick themselves. There had been no institution
of that kind before in that part of the country. " Willingly,"
says Madame Guyon, " did I enter into this plan. With no
other funds than what Providence might please to furnish, and
some useless chambers, which the gentlemen of the town gave
us, we began our effort. We dedicated the place to the holy
child Jesus. God enabled me to furnish the first beds obtained.
Several other persons soon joined us in this benevolent effort.
In a short time we were not only enabled to place in the build
ing twelve beds, but found three very pious persons, who gave
themselves, without salary, to the service of the hospital.
" I assumed the office of furnishing it with the requisite
medicines, which were freely given to such poor as had need of
them. The good ladies associated in this undertaking, were so
hearty in it, that through their care and charity the hospital
was in every respect very well maintained and served. They
joined together also in providing for the sick who could not go
to the hospital ; and I gave them some little regulations, such
as I had seen adopted in France, which they made the rules of
their associations, and continued to keep up with tenderness and
love." Madame Guyon arrived at Thonon about April 1682, and re
mained little more than two years. During the latter part of
this period she experienced a severe sickness, of which she has
given some account. After her recovery she found herself so
infirm, that she thought it necessary to change her residence,
and to obtain one which, by being a little more remote from the
water, would be more favourable to her. The house was in a

t OF MADAME GUYON. 195
more healthy position, some miles from the lake. It was incon
venient, except in its position ; but it was the only one in that
neighbourhood unoccupied, which she could obtain.
" It had a look," she says, " of the greatest poverty, and had
no chimney except in the kitchen, through which one was ob
liged to pass to go to the chamber. I gave up the largest
chamber to my daughter and the maid. The chamber reserved
to myself, was a very small one ; and I ascended to it by a lad
der. Having no furniture of my own except some beds, quite
plain and homely, I bought a few cheap chairs, and such articles
of earthen and wooden ware as were necessary. I fancied every
thing better on wood than on plate. Never did I enjoy a greater
content than in this hovel. It seemed to me entirely conform
able to the littleness and simplicity which characterize the true
life in Christ."
The change did not diminish her influence. It could not well
be diminished, while the conviction remained so prevalent, that
she was a woman taught of God. At Thonon her adversaries,
who were in the wrong position of fighting against God, had
been foiled at every point. And what seemed to render their
case the more hopeless, Father La Combe, whose talents and
piety gave him a prominent position, had returned after a long
absence from Rome, without being condemned for his alleged
heresies. At this juncture of affairs, the adversaries of the reli
gion of the heart adopted a new, and as the result showed, a
more effective mode of attack.
They complained to Bishop D'Aranthon, that tho Church,
especially in her prescribed forms and ceremonies, was in danger.
The fact that La Combe had united his influence to that of
Madame Guyon, had given the new spiritualism a consequence
which demanded attention. They said, that if he did not take
some repressive measures as bishop, he could not be considered
as doing his duty to the Church. Already the evils of novel j
opinions, or of actual schism, had been experienced in Spain,
Already the Spiritual Guide of Michael de Molinos had an
nounced doctrines in Italy, which were justly considered as allied

196 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
| to those of Protestantism. How then was it possible, that he
should remain undecided or inactive ?
Such considerations in a mind easily influenced, aided by his
sincere and strong attachment to the Church as it then was,
aroused D'Aranthon to decisive action. He not only required
all priests and others under his authority to oppose the progress
of the new views, but insisted that Madame Guyon and La
Combe should leave his diocese. Madame Guyon wrote to him,
but without effect.
Referring to some benevolent efforts she had made, she says,
" All these things, which cost but little, and owed all their suc
cess to the blessing that God gave them, drew upon me and my
friends new persecutions. Every day my opposers invented some
new slander. No kind of stratagem, or malicious device in their
power, did they omit. The dissatisfaction of Bishop D'Aranthon
with me was obviously greater than ever, especially when he
saw that my efforts of a benevolent and religious nature, which
undoubtedly he sincerely disapproved in some respects, rendered
me beloved by others. He said peevishly, that ' I won over
everybody to my party.' Another remark implied, that he could
be patient with my doctrines if they were confined to myself, and
were not spread abroad. And finally, he openly declared, that
1 he would no longer submit to have me in his diocese.' And
what rendered my position the more trying, he extended his un
kind treatment to my friends. The prioress of the Ursulines,
with whom I had resided a considerable part of my time at
Thonon, received a large share of it."
When those in power and authority have come to the conclu
sion to crush those who are weaker, tliere fire never wanting
persons to aid in carrying the decision into effect ; not only men
from whom better things could be expected, but especially rude
men of contracted minds and soliish hearts, who resort to mea
sures which enlightened and benevolent men could not approve.
This sort of opposition was employed against Madame Guyon.
She resided at some distance from the more settled parts of the
country, with her little daughter and one or two female domes-

OF MADAME GUYON. 197
tics; but otherwise wholly unprotected. She says, "I was
greatly contented in my small and rude residence. Hoping to
remain there for some time, I had laid in such provisions as were
necessary for me ; but Satan, the great instigator of evil, did
not long permit me to remain in such sweet peace.
" It would be difficult for me to enumerate all the unkindness
and cruelty practised towards me. The little garden near my
cottage, I had put in order. Persons came at night and tore it
all up, broke down the arbour, and overturned everything in it ;
so that it appeared as if it had been ravaged by a body of sol
diers. My windows were broken with stones, which fell at my
feet. All the night long persons were around the house, making
a great noise, threatening to break it in, and uttering personal
abuse. I have learned since who put these persons upon their
wicked work.
" It was at this time that notice reached me that I must go
out of the diocese. Crimes were tolerated ;¦ but the work of
God, resulting in the conversion and sanctification of souls, could
not be endured. All this while I had no uneasiness of mind.
My soul found rest in God ; I never repented that I had left
all to do what seemed to me to be His will. I believed that
God had a design in everything which took place ; and I left
all in His hands, both the sorrow and the joy."
The union of priests, bishop, and people against her, she
regarded as an obvious indication of Providence, that, in the
language of Scripture, she must " shake off the dust of her feet
against them," and go to another city. And what were the
feelings under which she was thus compelled, for a second time,
to leave her field of labour, and to go again, she kn6w not
whither ? " My soul," she says, " leaving all to God, continued
to rest in a quiet and peaceable habitation. 0 thou, the great,
the sole object of my love ! If there were no other reward
for the little services which we are able to perform than this
calm and fixed state, above the vicissitudes of the world,
would it not be enough ? The senses, indeed, are sometimes
ready to start aside, and to run off like truants ; but every

198 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
trouble flies before the soul which is entirely subjected to
God. " By speaking of a fixed state, I do not mean one which can
never decline or fall, that being only in heaven. I call it fixed
and permanent, in comparison with the states which have pre
ceded it, which, being in the mixed life, and without an entire
and exclusive devotedness to God, are full of vicissitudes and
variations. Such a soul, one which is wholly the Lord's, may
be troubled ; but sufferings affect only the outside, without dis
turbing the centre. Neither men nor devils, though they dis
charge all their fury against it, can permanently harm a soul
free from selfishness, and in union with the Divine will. No
sufferings whatever could ever affect it, neither more nor less,
neither within nor without, were it not permitted for wise pur
poses from above."
The pressure was applied with equal skill and power to La
Combe also. Such were the ecclesiastical relations between him
and the bishop, that the wish of the latter, and still more his in
junction, that he should depart from the diocese, rendered it
inconsistent, and perhaps impossible for him to remain. The
only charge alleged against him was that he was associated
with Madame Guyon in the diffusion of a spirituality which
was both novel and heretical,
Madame Guyon wrote to the bishop without effect. La Combe
also wrote to him. His letter, of which the following is an
abridgment, is given in full in the bishop's Life.
TO BISHOP D'ARANTHON.
" In accordance with your desire, sir, I am about to leave
your diocese. Not merely because your wish has been so
strongly expressed, that it naturally has the effect of an injunc
tion, but because God, the Eternal wisdom, has indicated, in
the arrangements of His providence, that the time of my de
parture has arrived. I recognise the instrumentality ; but I do
not forget Him who operates through the instrument. It was
by God's order that I came. It is by God's order that I depart.

OF MADAME GUYON. 199
" You have known my views on the subject of Sanctifica
tion ; for I communicated them to you in private. And prompted
by a sense of duty, I expressed a strong wish that they might
be blessed to yourself personally. This was the beginning of a
course of treatment, which, without giving utterance to the
spirit of complaint, I may justly characterize as unusual and
hard. I will not now undertake to justify myself against the
persecutions experienced. I may, perhaps, be excused for say
ing, however, that my adversaries have professed to sit in
judgment upon what they have never studied, and did not
understand. They obtained, nevertheless, an access to the ear
of the bishop, which was refused to us. We have this con
solation, which silences every murmur, that God in His wisdom
permitted it.
" Pardon, respected sir, the feelings of a poor ecclesiastic, who
thinks he has known something of the power of the inward life,
if in leaving the scene of his labours, in a cause so dear as that
of true holiness of heart, he drops a tear of regret at the desola
tion which he witnesses. Sad and terrible will be the account
which must at last be rendered for the opposition raised against
a cause for which Christ shed His blood — a cause dear to God,
who in His goodness had sent from France !to our poor Savoy,
a lady whose example and instructions could hardly have failed
to extend in every direction the love of holiness.
" But she and others will carry to other places those doctrines
of the interior life, which have been banished from the churches
over which you preside. Of what value is the Church, and of
what value are labours for the Church, without the inward life,
without the religion of the heart ? By what unhappiness is it,
respected sir, that you, who have laboured for your diocese so
much, and in many respects so successfully, have permitted this
crown of your labours to be taken from you ? I speak in kind
ness and sincerity. Why have the advocates of experimental
religion been banished ? Why have you smitten me with an
ecclesiastical interdiction — me, who have been attached to your
interests, submissive to your orders, and jealous for your autho-

200 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
rity? My conscience bears me testimony, that I would have
given more than one life, if I had possessed it, for you ; for the
good of your own soul, and of those under your charge. This
has been my prayer, many years earnestly offered, that you, and
others through you, might know tho full power of God's inward
grace. In the bonds of the gospel, I go hence to other lands.
Times and places change, but the deep prayer of my heart,
which I trust will yet be answered, remains unaltered.
" Francis de la Combe."
Various remarks of Madame Guyon, made from time to time
in connexion with these events, seem to me profitable. On one
occasion, speaking of a religious friend, whose character was
defective in some respects, she says, " Formerly it was with
great difficulty that I could bear her manners, characterized as
they were by an unrestrained vivacity. But since God has
given me grace to regard everything, and to love everything
in its relation to Himself, I find a great facility in bearing such
defects and faults of my neighbour. The principle of bene
volent sympathy has become strong, so that I feel for all, and
have a readiness to please and oblige every one, and such a com
passion for their calamities and distresses as I never had before.
" I make, however, a distinction. I more easily bear the
defects of beginners in the Christian life, than of those more
advanced and stronger. Towards the first I feel my heart
enlarged with tenderness ; I speak to them words of consolation.
Towards the latter I feel more firmness of purpose. When I see
defects in advanced souls, I cannot, without much inward suffer
ing, forbear reproving them. The more any soul is favoured
with eminent grace, the more easily is it united to me ; the
more violent, also, is the weight and suffering I feel for it, if it
slip or turn aside ever so little. Such have been the dealings
of the Lord with myself, that I seem to discern with great clear
ness both the strength and weakness of its principles ; so that
perceiving where it fails and what it wants, I feel myself bound
in religious duty to declare it.

OF MADAME GUYON. 201
" In my intercourse with others, I can converse much with
tho weak ; but I am not inclined to converse much with the
strong. With those who are in the beginnings of the religious
life, and who need instruction, the principle of holy love, acting
under the direction of Providence, leads me to converse on such
topics, and for so long a time as seems to be necessary. I feel
that I am doing good. But conversation, for the sake of con
versation, with those who are so advanced that they do not need
it, and when the providence of God does not especially call to
it, is repugnant to me. The human inclination, which corrupts
everything, is apt to mingle with it. The same things which
would be right and profitable when God, by the intimations of
His Holy Spirit, draws us to them, become quite otherwise when
we enter into them of ourselves. This appears to me so clear,
that I prefer being a whole day with the worst persons, in obe
dience to God, to being one hour with the best only from choice
and a human inclination."
She observes, " that a man is far from experiencing the full
grace of God, who desires martyrdom, but is restless under the
yoke of Divine providence, which places martyrdom beyond his
reach, and requires him to glorify God in the humblest and most
retired avocations of life. The true desire, the right desire, is
that which comes in the Divine order ; and the Divine order can
never be known and appreciated, except in connexion with a
knowledge of the developments of the present moment. At one
time the apostle Paul made tents in God's order ; at another
time, he preached eloquently on Mars' Hill, at Athens, in the
same Divine order ; but in both cases he glorified God equally.
If we are right in motive, and right in place, exercising all the
requisite faith in God at the same time, all will be well."
The following stanza from one of her poems, may be regarded
as expressive of her feelings at this time : —
" Father adored 1 thy holy will bo dono ;
Low at thy feet I lie ;
Thy loving chastisement I would not shun,
Nor from thine anger fly.
My heart 1b weak, but wean'd from all beside.
And to thy will resign'd, whate'er betide."

202 LIFE and religious EXPERIENCE

CHAPTER XXVI.
Season of retirement — Commences writing her larger treatises — "Spiritual Torrents" —
Feelings with which she commenced this work — Its name — The progress of the soul com
pared to torrents descending from the mountains — Abstract of it — Remarks,
In the year 1683, at Thonon, Madame Guyon first began her
formal treatises on religious experience. Worn down with con
tinual conversation, she gave out that she stood in need of re
tirement, and would not see company for a number of days.
With some difficulty people would consent to leave her in repose
even for a short time. In this season of religious retirement,
she had very full and joyous communion with God.
Endeavouring to ascertain in what way she could most glorify
God, it occurred to her, that in periods of physical debility, she
might do something more with her pen. The suggestion caused
her serious deliberation, and some trial of mind. But as soon as
she became satisfied that it was God's will, she no longer hesi
tated, though she felt in some respects unqualified for an under
taking so important. She commenced her work, entitled the
" Spiritual Torrents."
" When I first took up my pen for this purpose," she says,
" I knew not the first word I should write. The subject was
dark and mysterious. But it gradually opened to my mind ;
suitable considerations presented themselves readily and abun
dantly. Feeling relieved and strengthened, I was enabled to
write an entire treatise ou the principle of Faith, considered in
its inward and sanctifying actiou."
The title is suggested, partly by its own appropriateness, and
partly by Amos v. 24, — " But let judgment run down as waters,
and righteousness as a mighty stream." In the French and
Latin versions, tho words Torrens and Torrent are used.
" Let righteousness roll down as a mighty torrent."
Some of the principles of this work, written with great vigour
of imagination and language, although deficient in some degree
in logical development, are as follows : —

OF MADAME GUYON. 203
1. Souls, coming as they do from God, who is the great ocean
of life, have an instinctive and strong tendency, when that ele
ment of moral and religious life, which they have lost by the
Fall, is restored to them by Divine grace, to return again and
mingle in eternal union with that Divine source.
2. And this tendency depends upon nature, as well as origin.
God, from whom the soul came, and in whose likeness it is made,
is holy. Holiness loves holiness. It cannot be otherwise. And
just in proportion as the fallen soul is restored by Divine grace
and made holy, precisely in that degree, and on the ground of
a likeness of nature, is there a tendency to unite with God.
3. But the instinct of return is different in different persons.
This is illustrated by streams or torrents. From the ocean they
came ; — to the ocean they are returning. But all streams do
not flow alike.
4. Some torrents are feeble in their beginning. They acquire
strength ; but gradually and slowly. Sometimes they meet with
an impediment, which makes them no better than a standing
pool. When they have escaped, they still retain their former
characteristics ; and wind onward circuitously and slowly. They
are not altogether without life and utility. Here and there
their banks are green ; and a few scattered flowers drink refresh
ment from their waters. After a while they depart from sight ;
perhaps their inconsiderable waters are dissipated and drunk up
in the wide expanse of some arid plain. Perhaps they pass on
and are lost in some other larger river, or are mingled and lost
in the bosom of some lake. They do not reach the ocean.
5. Other torrents seem to start from a fuller fountain, and
more rapidly to increase. They expand into rivers. Many are
the vessels, larger and smaller, which they bear ; rich the mer
chandise which floats upon them ; but they seem to grow slugr
gish in their own opulence. Winding here and there, they
empty themselves at last into some bay, or sound, or other arm
of the sea, and there are lost.
6. There are other torrents which represent those who hunger
and thirst after righteousness, who cannot and will not be satis-

204 LIFE and religious experience
fied, till their souls are brought into the most intimate union
with God. If these torrents are turned from their course, they
resume it as soon as possible, and by the nearest possible direc
tion. If they meet with obstacles so extensive as to stop them
entirely, they do not become inert and stagnant, but they get
strength moment by moment, accumulating wave upon wave,
till they pass triumphantly over them. They bear their trea
sures ; but they will not stop. They nourish the flowers upon
their banks, but they leave them to shine in their beauty and
fragrance, and pass on. They are not satisfied, till they reach
and mingle with the great ocean. There they are made one
with the water of waters ; they become a part of it ; vast jiavies
float upon its bosom ; the world's commerce passes over it.
She makes a distinction between a will perfectly harmonious,
and a will merely submissive. A will entirely harmonious
carries with it the heart as well as the conscience. The will
of an obedient servant, who does what he is bound to do, is
submissive. The will of the affectionate son, who not only
does what he is bound to do, but loves to do it, is not only sub
missive but is harmonious, is not only concordant but is one.
So that when Madame Guyon insists so much as she does on
a perfect union with the Divine will as the highest result of
Christian experience, she means a union which carries the heart
with it.
And then the question comes, How is this harmony to be
brought about, which places the centre of all human wills in the
centre of the Eternal Will ? And the answer is, just in propor
tion as we dislodge the human life from its own centre, which is
Self, it has a tendency, by the law of its own nature, to seek the
True Centre, which is God. But what is it for the human life
to be loosened and dislodged from its own centre ? It is to re
cognise in everything its entire dependence on God, and to be
willing to receive every such thing in God's way, in God's time,
and on God's conditions. In the first place, it must renounce
salvation from itself, in order that it may receive salvation from
God through Christ. And then, in the exercise of the same self-

OF MADAME GUYON. 205
renunciation, it must be willing to receive also its strength, its
wisdom, its moral and religious good, what may be called its
daily spiritual bread, from God, living upon the Divine Fountain
which flows unceasingly to those who are willing to receive life
from the Divine Life, through the operation of the Holy Ghost
dwelling in the soul.
Here the struggle begins, and is continued. When men begin
to see that they are lost out of God, and put forth their hands
and struggle in the right direction, they then begin to feel, and
not till then, the strength of the chains which bind them. The
first struggle is to renounce all fondness and all claim for agency
and merit in the matter of their salvation from the penalty of
their past sins. So that the first crucifixion of self begins at the
cross of Christ.
Terrible is the struggle oftentimes at this point. God can
never yield, because, being the Eternal Truth, He never can
violate the truth. It is an eternal truth, or if it be preferred, an
eternal law in morals, — the opposite of which is an eternal false
hood, because it never was and never can be the law, — that,
where there is crime, there must be suffering. And suffering
which attends upon crime, and is the necessary result of crime,
is not merely suffering, but is retribution, is punishment. This
relation of crime and punishment God can never alter, unless,
by an arbitrary act, He can change right into wrong and wrong
into right, which would be inconsistent with the very idea of
God. God, therefore, in the person of His Son, not only know
ing but realizing in Himself the immutability of the requisitions
of the law, took the penalty of its violation on Himself, in order
that man, who had incurred the penalty by sin, might be for
given. And it was not merely an exhibited or apparent suffer
ing, which God " manifested in the flesh " endured — not a
mere spectacle, but a real suffering. God, therefore, because
He cannot possibly meet him on any other ground or in any
other place, unless He meets him as a righteous judge, meets
man in the cross of Christ ; — He meets him on Calvary and not
on Sinai. And the first act of submission, the first act in which

206 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
man recognises God as the Giver of the true life, is, and must
be there.
But this is only the beginning of the work. The purchase of
forgiveness in Christ is the purchase of a new life ; and all addi
tional blessings flow through Him. Man is to be detached from
bis own centre in the matter of forgiveness ; and from the same
centre, which is Self, in everything else. As every good thing
really comes from God ; so every good thing must be received
and recognised as coming from him in the exercise of faith.
Here we see the necessity of inward crucifixion, and the princi
ples on which it must be conducted. The soul must be detached
from everything on which it rests out of God.
There are two great principles on which this result depends ;
that by which, in the language of Madame Guyon, we become
nothing in ourselves, and give ourselves to God entirely ; and the
other is, that we fully believe in God as accepting the offering
which we have thus made. And here often we find the exercise
and trial of our faith. Strong faith is requisite. Relying simply
upon the promise, given and pledged to all those who are fully
consecrated, we are to receive God as our God and portion, for
the present and the future, in all that He now is, and in all that
He can be to us in time to come ; in the plan of salvation, in the
administration of His providences, and in the " daily bread " of
His grace, dispensed to us moment by moment. And He be
comes to us in this way, not only all that He is in fact, but all
that we can desire Him to be ; because, relying on His promises,
we find our desires already fulfilled by anticipation ; although
His present administration in respect to us may be, in some
respects, mysterious and trying.
At this point Madame Guyon describes accurately and minutely,
the further progress of inward crucifixion. She draws chiefly
from what she herself had passed through, and had witnessed in
other cases.
And what is particularly worthy of notice is, that Bhe shows,
in souls that are prepared for it by Divine grace, how the prin
ciple of Faith develops itself step by step, and in higher and

OF MADAME GUYON. 207
higher degrees, in precise accordance with the process of inward
crucifixion. Just in proportion as the soul is sundered from the
ties which bound it inordinately to the earth, it increases in the
Strength of its faith, and rises into harmony with God. She
describes the progress of the inward life, not merely by degrees
of crucifixion, but chiefly and especially by degrees of faith.
The soul, in the first degree of faith, has a true life in God,
but not a full or perfect life. The soul, in this degree, loves God,
but it adheres too strongly and takes too much delight in the
gifts of God, considered as separate from God himself. It recog
nises and loves, in general, the providences of God ; but when
they become personally very afflictive, it is apt to show some
thing of restlessness and unsubmission. Combined with a dis
position to do the will of God, there is too much of " empresse-
ment," or undue eagerness to do it, and not enough of that
humility and quietness of spirit, which waits for His time of
doing it.
In the second and other higher degrees of faith, the soul be
comes detached from these faults and sins. But there still re
main others. The soul, for instance, in this stage of its progress,
rests more or less upon a human arm ; — human opinions, which
are adverse to its course, cause it trouble ; human approbation
and human applause sometimes give it strength, which would be
better if it came directly from God. But God, operating by
outward processes, takes away one prop after another, till the
soul (which it cannot do, without an increase of faith correspond
ing to the facts and process of such inward crucifixion) rests
solidly upon the great Centre, and upon that centre alone.
Such are some of the doctrines of this interesting work. The ,
terms in which she describes the successive steps of a thorough
inward crucifixion, remind one strongly of her own personal his
tory. She describes in a great degree, though not exclusively,1
from herself. And this, while it contributes to the interest of
the work, constitutes in reality one of its defects, considered as
a work to be read and followed by others. It would not be
entirely safe to take the experience of any individual in all its

208 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
\ particulars, as the precise mode of the Divine operation in all
; other cases. It may be proper to add further, that she was con-.
stitutionally imaginative. Consequently, viewing things in a
clear and strong light, she expresses herself more strongly than a
person with less imagination would bo likely to do. Her ex
pressions, therefore, especially when compared with what she
says, from time to time, in other places, may sometimes justly be
received in a modified sense.

CHAPTER XXVII.
Leaves Thonon — Mount Cenis— Her feelings — Persons that accompanied her — Circum
stances which led her to go to Turin — Marchioness of Prunai — Her journey through the
Pass of Mount Cenis, and reception and labours at Turin — Rolfgious feelings — Corre
spondence — Advice to a young preacher — Of Dreams — The Dream of the sacred
island. She decided, for various reasons, to attempt to reach Turin,
the capital of Piedmont, situated one hundred and thirty-five
miles south-east from Geneva, and a little more from Thonon.
Its site is on a vast plain at the foot of the Alps, on the Italian
side, and at the confluence of the rivers Doria and Po.
The route would be, I suppose, from Thonon to Chambery,
through Geneva and Anneci, and from Chambery through Mont--
meillant, to the celebrated Alpine pass of Mount Cenis, and
thence to Susa and Turin.
Mount Cenis was not passable then, as it has since been ren
dered by the efforts of the French Government, for carriages ;
but those who went over it were obliged to go on foot or on
mules, or were carried in litters borne by porters. A journey
along frightful precipices, and over mountains piled to the
clouds, accompanied too by the reflection that those who were
prosecuting it had no home, no resting-place, must have been
exceedingly trying to any one whose mind was not sustained by.
strong faith.

OF MADAME GUYON. 209
" The words," she says, " which are found in the Gospel of
Matthew, were deeply impressed upon my mind. ' The foxes
have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of
man hath not where to lay his head.'
" This I have since experienced in all its extent, having no
sure abode, no refuge among my friends, who were ashamed of
me, and openly renounced me at the time when there was a
great and general outcry against me ; nor among my relations,
the most of whom declared themselves my adversaries, and were
my greatest persecutors ; while others looked on me with con
tempt and indignation. My state began to be like that of Job,
when he was left of all. Or perhaps I might say with David,
' For thy sake I have borne reproach ; shame hath covered my
face ; I am become a stranger to my brethren, and an alien unto
my mother's children ; a reproach to men, and despised of the
people.' "
She was accompanied by Father La Combe, her spiritual
director ; by another ecclesiastic of high standing and merit,
who had been for fourteen years a teacher in theology, whose
name is not given ; and a young lad from France, who had
been apprenticed to some mechanic trade. The females in this
little company were Madame Guyon and her little daughter,
and one of the maid-servants who came with her from France,
a poor and humble girl, but rich in that unchangeable faith
which rests upon inward renouncement ; who recognised in
Madame Guyon a spiritual mother, and with something of a
martyr's spirit shared in her wanderings and labours, and suf
fered with her in her long imprisonments.
The men went through the mountain passes on mules, the
females on litters. She who but a few years before had resided j
amid the ease and elegancies of the capital of France, was now'
a wanderer, with the precipice at her feet and the avalanche!
above her head. But God is the God of the rock and of the
mountains, as well as of the cultured field and valleys ; and she
saw in these mighty and terrific piles, which the lightnings had'
smitten but not destroyed, which tho thunders had struck but1

210 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
! never removed from their places — an emblem of the strength of
' that arm on which her soul rested.
God had prepared her a refuge in Turin. There was at that
time in the city of Turin a lady of distinguished rank, the
Marchioness of Prunai, distinguished alike by her position in
society, her powers of mind, and her sincere piety. Her brother
was at that time the principal Secretary of State to the Duke of
Savoy. The Marchioness had been a woman of sorrow, having
been left a widow at an early period of life. She had quitted
the noise and splendour of the Court for the more silent satis
faction of a retired life. " This lady," says Madame Guyon,
" was one of extraordinary piety. With many things in her
situation which might have furnished inducements to a different
course, she nevertheless continued a widow, notwithstanding
repeated offers of marriage. Her great object in doing this was,
that she might, with less distraction, consecrate herself to Christ
without reserve."
There was a similarity in their respective situations which
could not fail to interest her. The position of Madame Guyon
touched the chord of heart-felt sympathy. Having heard of her
sickness at Thonon, and the troubles likely to await her there,
she sent her a letter by express, conveying her Christian and
friendly sympathy, and inviting her to come to Turin and reside
with herself. In a subsequent letter, which repeated the invita
tion more strongly, she included Father La Combe.
'' As the invitation was given," says Madame Guyon, " with
out any anticipation of it, and any design on our part, it was
natural and reasonable for us, under the circumstances of the
case, to believe that it was God's will for us to go. And we
thought it might be the means of His appointment, seeing our
selves chased on the one side and desired on the other, to draw
us out of the reproach and persecution under which wo laboured."
This little company, with the world's curse and with God's
blessing, were winding their way through the valleys of the
Maurienne, and over the cliffs of Mount Cenis, and along tho
banks of the Doria. The Lord, who casts up a highway for

OF MADAME GUYON. 211
His ransomed people to walk in, directed their steps. They
were received at Turin by the Marchioness with all that kind
ness and Christian affection which her letters had led them to
expect. La Combe remained but a short time. He received
an invitation from the Bishop of Verceil, a considerable town of
Piedmont, about forty miles from Turin. To this he thought
it his duty to accede.
Turin was not regarded by Madame Guyon as a permanent
field of labour. It was a place of refuge and of rest ; but still
in some degree a place of religious effort. Her labours seem to
have been chiefly with persons who held a position of influence
in the religious world.
" It pleased God," she says, " to make use of me in the con
version of two or three ecclesiastics. Attached to the prevalent
views and practices, their repugnance to the doctrines of faith
and of an inward life was at first great. One of these persons
at first vilified me very much. But God at length led him to
see his errors, and gave him new dispositions."
The writings of Madame Guyon, all in French, have been j
published in their collected form, in forty volumes. Some of
her works, published separately, particularly her Life, have;
passed through numerous editions. The ease, vivacity, and the
effect of what she wrote upon numerous persons, were remark- ,
able. At Paris, at Gex, at Thonon, at Turin, at home and i
abroad, in the convent and the prison, her pen was constantly i
employed. It is hardly possible to name a period during her
life, when she did not keep up a wide correspondence. All
classes of persons shared in her labours in this way, if there was
any prospect of doing them good. Five printed volumes remain
to us. She received many letters from Paris during her resi- !
dence at Gex ; especially from persons who had a reputation for /
holiness. Among her correspondents we find, beside her spiritual Direc
tors, M. Bertot and Father La Combe, the names of Poiret, a
man celebrated for his knowledge, especially in the mystic or
experimental theology, the Abbe de Wattenville of the city of

212 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Berne, Mademoiselle de Venoge of Lausanne, M. Monod, a man
of some distinction both in science and in civil life, the Baron
Metternich, the Marquis de Fenelon, who for some time was the
French ambassador in Holland, and Fenelon, Archbishop of
Cambray. To these, among many others now unknown, we
may add the four daughters, all of them duchesses in rank, of
the celebrated Colbert, together with two of their husbands, the
Dukes of Chevreuse and Beauvilliers.
From time to time we propose to give portions of her corre
spondence. Dates and names are sometimes gone ; but that
does not essentially alter its value. Her letters generally relate
to experimental religion.
" When the heart is once gained," she says, speaking of
preachers, " all the rest is soon amended. But when, instead
of faith in Christ and the renovation of the heart, they direct
their hearers to the practice of outward ceremonies chiefly, but
little fruit comes of it. If priests were zealous in inculcating
inward instead of outward religion, the most desirable results
would follow. The shepherds, in tending their flocks, would
have the spirit of the ancient Anchorites. The ploughman, in
following the plough, would hold a blessed communion with
God. The mechanic, fatigued with his labours, would find rest,
and gather eternal fruits in God. Crimes would be banished ;
the face of the Church would be renewed ; Jesus Christ would
reign in peace everywhere. 0 the inexpressible loss which is
caused by a neglect of inward religion ! What a fearful account
will those persons be obliged to render, to whom this hidden
treasure has been committed, but who have concealed it from
their people 1 "
A letter, addressed to a young man when he was about enter
ing the ministry, is as follows : —
" Sir, — The singleness of spirit and the candour with which
you have written, please me much. You are about to preach the
Gospel of Christ. I will avail myself of the confidence you have
placed in me, and endeavour to make one or two suggestions.

OF MADAME GUYON. 213
" In the first place, a person in the responsible and solemn j
situation to which you are called, should never preach ostenta
tiously ; in other words, with the purpose of showing your intel
lectual power, your learning, and eloquence. Preach in a plain,
simple manner ; and let me add, that the matter is still more
important than the manner. Be careful what you preach, as
well as how you preach. Preach nothing but the Gospel, — the
Gospel of the kingdom of God. And, it is exceedingly desirable,
that you should preach it as a kingdom near at hand ; as some
thing not a great way off, but to be received and realized now.
Aim at the heart. If men seek the kingdom of God within
them, in the exercise of faith and in right dispositions, instead)
of outward ceremonies and practices, they will not fail to'
find it.
" Always remember that the soul of man was designed to be
the Temple of the living God. In that temple, framed for eterr
nity, He desires to dwell much more than in temples made with
human hands. He himself built it. And when, in the exercise
of faith, we permit Him to enter, He exercises there a perpetual
priesthood. God, therefore, is ready to come, and to take up
His abode in the heart, if men are desirous of it. But men
themselves have something to do. Teach those to whom you
preach, to disengage their minds from the world, to be recollected
and prayerful, and with sincerity and uprightness to seek, in the
language of the Psalmist, ' the Lord and his strength, to seek
his face evermore.' (Ps. cv. 4.)
" Again, to render your preaching truly effective, it must be
the product of love, and of entire obedience to the Spirit of God ;
flowing from a real inward experience ; from the fulness of a
believing and sanctified heart. And, if this be the case, your
sermons will not, I think, partake of a controversial spirit, which
is much to be avoided. Men who are controversial, led away
by strong party feelings, are apt to utter falsehoods, when they
think they are uttering the truth. Besides, nothing, so far as I
can perceive, so much narrows and dries up the heart as con
troversy.

214 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
" Shall I be permitted to make one other suggestion ? It is
very desirable, in the earlier part of your ministry especially,
that you should spend a portion of your time, and that perhaps
not a small portion, in communion with God in retirement. Let
your own soul first be filled with God's Spirit ; and then, and
not otherwise, will you be in a situation to communicate of that
Divine fulness to others. No man can give what he has not ;
or if a man has grace, but has it in a small degree, he may, in
dispensing to others, impart to them what is necessary for him
self. Let him first make himself one with the great Fountain,
and then he may always give, or be the instrument of giving,
without being emptied.
" How wonderful, how blessed are the fruits, when the preacher
seeks the Divine glory alone, and lets himself be moved by the
Spirit of God ! Such a preacher can hardly fail of gaining souls
to Him who has redeemed them with His blood. Preacli in
this manner, and you will find that your sermons will be bene
ficial, to yourself as well as to others. Far from exhausting
you, they will fill you more and more with God, who loves to
give abundantly, when, without seeking ourselves, and desirous
of nothing but the promotion of His own glory, we shed abroad
what He gives us upon others.
" And, on the other hand, how sad are the effects, when men
preach with other views, and on other principles; — men who
honour God with their lips when their hearts are far from Him.
They are not more injurious to others, than they are miserable
in themselves. I close with my supplication, that God may not
only instruct you in these things, but, moreover, place you in a
situation which will be most accordant with the Divine glory
and your own good.
" Jeanne M. B. de la Mothe Guyon."
I believe it is a remark of no less a philosopher than Presi
dent Edwards, that we may profitably notice our dreams, in
\ order to ascertain from them, in part, our predominant inclina-
.' tions. Still they are not to be considered as of much account.

OF MADAME GUYON. 215
And accordingly, but little has been said of them hitherto. One
will now be given, which occurred in this period of her life.
" It was about this time," she relates, " I had a dream, which
left a sweet impression ou my mind. I seemed to see the wide
ocean spread out before me. Many were its shoals and breakers,
and its stormy waters roared. In the midst there arose an island,
lofty and difficult of access where it touched the water ; but in
the interior, where it arose again into a lofty summit, it was full
of beauty. To this, I was in some way mysteriously carried.
They said it was called Lebanon. Forests of cedars, and all
beautiful trees, grew there. In the wood there were lodges,
where those who chose might enter ; and couches of repose were
spread for them. Here, in this place of Divine beauty, all
things were changed from what we see them in the natural
world. All was full of purity, innocence, truth. The birds sang
and sported among the branches, without fear that insidious foes
would watch and destroy them. The lamb and the wolf were
there together in peace ; so that I was reminded of that beauti
ful prophecy of Isaiah, — ' The wolf shall dwell with the lamb,
and the leopard shall lie down with the kid ; and they shall not
hurt nor destroy in all my Holy Mountain.'
" As I thus contemplated, who should appear but that beloved
one, the spouse of holy souls, the Saviour of men ! He con
descended to come near me, to take me by the hand, and to
speak to me. When we had looked round upon this Divine
work, this new Paradise, He directed my attention to the wide
waters which surrounded us, to its rocks and foaming breakers,
and pointed out to me here and there one who was struggling
onward, with more or less of courage and hope, to this island
and mountain of God. Some appeared to be entirely over
whelmed in the waves, but not yet wholly gone, and the Savi
our directed that such, in particular, should receive from me
whatever sympathy and aid I could give them. The sweet im
pression which this dream left upon my spirit continued many
days." Such a dream was calculated to console her, and to confirm

216 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
her in her conviction that her great business was to aid souls,
amid the multiplied perils which beset them.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
Her return to France — State of things in Italy — Some account of Michael de Molinos —
— Opposition to his views — 111 treatment of his followers — Course of the Count and.
Countess Vespiniani — Imprisonment of Molinos, and death — Her return from Turin to
Grenoble — Reasons — Advice of a frlond — Her domestic arrangements — Remarkable re
vival of religion at Orcnoblo — Dealings of Ood with some individuals— Conversion of
a Knight of Malta — Uer labours with the Sisters of one of the Convents of the city —
Establishment of an hospital for sick persons.
Madame Guyon looked upon Turin us a place of refuge rather
than a field of permanent labour. During these few months she
found something to do, and her labours were not without effect.
But whether it was owing to Italian usages and manners, so difr
ferent from those to which she had been accustomed, or the
difference of the language of the country, which, although she
undoubtedly had command of it, must have been employed by
her with some embarrassment, or some other reasons, she found
that her mind turned back to France. France was the place of
her birth ; but, above all, Providence seemed to her to indicate
that her labours and her sufferings would be there.
Certainly it was difficult, under the existing state of things,
for the true light to shine much in Italy. The people of the
Italian states have been subject to a yoke of ceremonial bondage,
exceedingly adverse to a life of faith. In France, although the
difficulty has been the same in kind, it has been less in degree.
To illustrate and confirm this we may mention a few facts.
About this period Michael de Molinos, a Spaniard, of a respect
able family and blameless life, made his appearance in Italy as
a religious teacher and reformer. He published his views in a
work entitled tlie Spiritual Guide, which in a few years passed
through twenty editions in different languages. The principles
of the book, which have been much misrepresented and mis
understood, were similar in many respects to those of Madame

OF MADAME GUYON. 217
Guyon. He maintained the high doctrine of present and effec
tive sanctification. He attached comparatively but little value
to ceremonial observances, but insisted much upon the religion
of the heart, and upon faith as its constituting principle. His
doctrines were received with great joy by many pious persons, in
various parts of Italy. But this state of things continued only
for a short time.
Tiie watchful eye of Roman Catholic authority noticed this
movement. Molinos was seized and shut up in prison with some
hundreds of persons ; some of them eminent for learning and
piety, others distinguished for rank. Among these last were the
Count and Countess Vespiniani. The Countess, strong in that
power and life of faith of which by God's grace she had become
the possessor, answered the judges of the Inquisition with a
firmness and decision which quite astonished them. She averred
that she had been betrayed by the priests to whom she had made
confession ; and declared openly and boldly, with all the terrors
of an ignominious death before her, that she would never confess
to a priest again, but to God only.
The Inquisitors, confounded at her boldness, and not daring
to act with rigour against persons of such high rank, set the
Countess and her husband at liberty, with some others. But t
Molinos, whose irreproachable life and profound piety had made
a general impression, was not permitted to escape. The doctrines
of the Spiritual Guide were formally examined and condemned.
A circular letter, emanating from the highest ecclesiastical '
authority, was addressed to the prelates of Italy, apprizing them
that secret assemblies were held in their dioceses, where inad
missible and dangerous errors were taught. It was enjoined to
pursue to justice such as should be found adopting novelties./
All suspected persons were closely examined ; the books of
Molinos, when found in their possession, were taken away ; nor '¦
were they allowed to retain any other writings of a similar cha
racter ; such, in particular, as the Easy Method of the Inward or [
Contemplative Life by Francis Malaval,* and the Letters, on the
* This work was translated from the French into the Italian by Luolo Labacci.

218 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
I same subject, of Cardinal Petrucci. Efforts were made to save
Molinos, but they were ineffectual. He died in the dungeons of
the Inquisition, after many years of close confinement, in which
, he exhibited the greatest humility and peace of mind.
! It does not appear that Madame Guyon knew much of the
' progress and results of this movement at this time. The greater
'. number of those who were interested in it, resided in other parts
of Italy. But she saw enough in tbe inordinate attachment to
, the existing forms, and the prevalent deadness to the life of reli
gion in the soul, to convince her that there was but little hope
of much success in the labours of one like herself, a woman, a
stranger in a strange land, unfriended and comparatively un
known. Some years after, her writings were denounced as
, equally heretical ; and the ecclesiastical condemnation of the
j propositions of the Spanish priest was urged as one of the reasons
for treating hers in a like manner.
Under these circumstances she began to experience, more dis
tinctly than she had previously done, the inward consciousness
that God designed to use her as an instrument to effect His pur
poses. And she could hardly fail to see, possessing powers the
strength of which she had learned from the conflicts in which she
had been engaged, that her labours would probably no longer be
in obscure and remote places, and among peasantry. A mere
instrument as she was, and felt herself to be, she began, never
theless, to feel the greatness of her personal responsibility, and
the importance of the mission to which God had called her,
which was designed to recall her people from the sign to the
thing signified, the semblance to the possession, the ceremonial
to the substance.
In the autumn of 1684 she left Turin for France. Here she
came to the conclusion to go to Grenoble, about twenty-five
miles from Montmeillant ; and unless she returned again to
Thonon and Geneva, as she could not now do with much pro
priety, she could hardly avoid visiting it.
She was intimately acquainted with a lady residing at
Grenoble, who was so situated as to give her some aid and

OF MADAME GUYON. 219
advice. This lady she speaks of as " an eminent servant of
God." Grenoble, which is about one hundred miles north-west of
Turin, is an ancient and populous city of France, situated on the
river Isere, and rendered important by its position, its numbers,
and its local influence. The lady advised her, for religious
reasons and with a full knowledge of her objects, to go no
further, but to take up her residence for a time in that city. Her
thoughts were occupied with the subject before this time ; so
much so, that the reflections of the day had sometimes given
existence and character to the dreams of the night. " Before I
arrived at Grenoble," says Madame Guyon, " my friend saw in
a dream, that our Lord gave me a great number of children, all
uniformly clad, and bearing in their spotless dress the emblem of
their innocence and uprightness. Her first impression was, that
God might in His providence establish me at Grenoble, for the
purpose of taking care of the children of the hospital. But as
soon as she told it to me, it seemed to me that another interpre
tation, more appropriate and likely to be fulfilled, could be given
to it. The impression left upon my own mind was, that God
might so far bless my labours as to give me a number of spiritual
children ; — the ' little ones ' of the Gospel ; — children character
ized by a new heart, by innocence, simplicity, and upright
ness." It appeared to Madame Guyon that she should stop for a time
here ; and thinking it not best to rely upon the offices of private
friendship for the accommodations necessary for her, she made
arrangements to place her little daughter and the pious maid
servant, her constant attendant, as boarders in one of the con
vents of the city. She herself took retired rooms in the house
of a poor widow.
She did not visit and make acquaintances in the first instance.
It had not been her custom. Her unalterable conviction, that)
it indicates a want of religious wisdom and faith to run in ad- :
vance of the Divine providences, required her to wait and to;
watch, as well ,.as to pray and to act. And the result showed '

220 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
that those who trust in the Lord will find Him all that their
faith expected and required Him to be.
She sat in her solitary room in the city of Grenoble, in silent
communion with God ; a stranger almost unknown. But God,
who gives all things to him who is so poor in spirit that he
may be said to have nothing, honours and loves the sanctified
heart. The language of Him in whom they trust is, — " The
battle is not yours, but God's. Fear not, nor be dismayed ; for
the Lord will be with you." (2 Chron. xx. 15, 17.)
Although, with the exception of a single family, she had
scarcely a personal acquaintance at Grenoble, it was soon gene
rally known that Madame Guyon was in the city. The result
was, (and she 6peaks of it as something quite unexpected,)
that within a very few days some of the most pious persons in
the city came to see her. The fact that she was already re
garded and denounced by many as a fugitive and heretic, did
not prevent the sympathy of pious hearts. And many of those
who thus visited her, came not merely to express their respect
and sympathy, but to receive that religious instruction which
they regarded her as eminently qualified to give. Here, as in
a greater or less degree at Paris, at Gex, at Thonon, and at
Turin, the Spirit of God attended her.
Those who thus came to her, impressed by the profound truths
which she uttered, announced to others the light and the spiri
tual blessings they were thus receiving. And accordingly, the
number rapidly increased.
" People," says Madame t Guyon, " flocked together from all
sides, far and near. Friars, priests, men of the world, maids,
wives, widows, all came, one after another, to hear what was to
be said. So great was the interest felt, that for some time I
was wholly occupied from six o'clock in the morning till eight
in the evening, in speaking of God. It was not possible to aid
myself much in my remarks by meditation and study. But God
was with me. He enabled me, in a wonderful manner, to un
derstand the spiritual condition and wants of those who came to
me. Many were the souls which submitted to God at this time ;

OF MADAME GUYON. 221
God only knows how many. Some appeared to be changed as it
were in a moment. Delivered from a state in which their hearts
and lips were closed, they were at once endued with gifts of
prayer, which were wonderful. Marvellous, indeed, was this
work of the Lord."
A member of one of the religious orders at Grenoble, visited
her Conferences, and seems also to have sought private inter
views. He was one of those persons, not unfrequently found,
who, with the most favourable dispositions to become religious,
fail, nevertheless, in the requisite fidelity and courage. In this
conflict and vacillation of mind, he came and "laid open," as
she expresses it, " all the trials of his heart to her like a little
child." She gave him such instructions as seemed applicable ;
and God made her the instrument of great blessings to him.
" I felt," she says, " that this person, who was emptied of self
in proportion as he received of the Divine fulness, was truly
One of my spiritual children, one of the most faithful and closely
united." A number of his companions were all, in like manner, led to
see their need of an interest in Christ, and to the experience of
repentance. But this result, so auspicious and glorious, was
incidentally the occasion of some trouble. The Superior of the
Religious House to which these brethren belonged, and the Master
of the Novitiates, were very much offended.
" They were grievously chagrined," says Madame Guyon,
" that a woman should be so much flocked to and sought after.
For, looking at the things as they were in themselves, and not
as they were in God, who uses what instrument He pleases,
they forgot, in their contempt for the instrument, to admire the
goodness and grace manifested through it. The good brother,
however, first converted, persevered in his efforts, and after a
time persuaded the Superior of the House to come, and at least
to thank me for the charities of which he knew I had been the
agent. He came. We entered into conversation. The Lord
was present, and was pleased so to order my words, that they
reached his heart. He was not only affected, but was at last

222 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
convinced and completely gained over to the views which he at
first opposed. So much so, that he bought quite a number of
religious books at his own expense, and circulated them widely.
" Oh, how wonderful art thou, my God 1 In all thy ways
how wise 1 In all thy conduct how full of love 1 How well
thou canst frustrate all the false wisdom of men, and triumph
over all their vain precautions !
" In this Religious House there was a considerable number of
persons as Novitiates. The new spirit of religious inquiry, based
upon the principle that man is a sinner, and that he must be
saved by repentance and faith in Christ, and that faith in God
through Christ subsequently is, and must be the foundation of
the inward life, reached the eldest of the Novitiates. It was a
marked case. As he gave his attention to the subject, he be
came more and more uneasy, so much so that he knew not what
to do. He could neither read nor study, nor go through in the
usual manner the prescribed forms of prayer, nor scarcely do any
of his other duties. The member of this Religious House in
terested first, brought this Novitiate to me. We conversed to
gether for some time. I was enabled, with Divine assistance, to
judge very accurately of his inward state, and to suggest views
appropriate to it. The result was remarkable. God's presence
was manifested in a wonderful manner. Grace wrought in his
heart ; and his soul drank in what was said, as the parched
ground of summer drinks in the rain. Before he left the room,
the fears and sorrows of his mind departed. So far as could be
judged at the time, he was z,new man in Christ.
" He now studied and prayed readily and cheerfully, and dis
charged all other duties in such a manner that he was scarce
known to himself or others. He was not only changed, but he
was rejoiced to find that there was in him a principle of life
which made the change permanent. God gave him his daily
bread spiritually, as well as temporally; imparting what he
could not obtain before, whatever pains he might take for it.
Desiring to do good to others, he brought to me, from time to
time, all the other Novitiates. All were affected and blessed,

OF MADAME GUYON. 223
though in different degrees. The Superior of the House and the
Master of the Novitiates, ignorant of the instrumentality em
ployed, could not forbear expressing their feelings at the change
in those under their charge. Conversing one day with a person
connected with the house, and expressing their surprise at the
great change in the novitiates, this person said to them, ' My
Fathers, if you will permit me, I will tell you the reason. It is
owing to the efforts of the lady against whom, without knowing
her, you formerly exclaimed so much. God has made use of her
efforts for all this.'
" This, added to the favourable influences already existing,
could not fail to have a very marked effect. Both the Superior
and the Master were advanced in years ; but they condescended,
with great humility, to submit to such advice and instruction as
I was enabled to give them. It was at this time, for the parti
cular benefit of those whose minds were affected in the manner
related, that I wrote the little book entitled A Short Method of
Prayer. " They experienced so much benefit from it, that the Superior
said to me, ' I am become quite a new man. Prayer, which
was formerly burdensome to me, and especially after my intel
lectual faculties became exhausted and dull, I now practise with
great pleasure and ease. God, who formerly seemed to be a
great way off, is now near ; and the communion I have with
Him, which is frequent, results in great spiritual blessings.'
" The Master of the Novitiates said, ' I have been a member
of a Religious House these forty years, and have practised the
form of prayer, and perhaps in something of its spirit ; but I can
truly say, that I have never practised it as I have done since
I read that little book. And I can say the same of my other
religious exercises.' Among the other persons experimentally
interested, were three monks, men of ability and reputation,
belonging to another monastery, the members of which were in
general very much opposed to me.
" God also made me of service to a great number of nuns,
virtuous young women, and even men of the world. Among

224 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
those was a young man of the Order of the Knights of Malta.
Led to understand something of the peaceful nature and effects
of religion, he abandoned the profession of arms for that of a
preacher of the gospel of Christ. He became a man constant in
prayer, and was much favoured of the Lord. I could not well
describe the great number of souls, of whose spiritual good God
was pleased to make me the instrument. Among the number
were three curates, one canon, and one grand-vicar, who were
more particularly given to me. Generally speaking, those who
sought religion did not seek it in vain. There was one priest,
however, for whom I was interested, and for whom, in my
anxiety for his salvation, I suffered much. He desired religion,
while he felt the power of other and inferior attachments. He
sought it, but with a divided heart. The contest was severe ;
and it was with painful emotions that I saw him, after all his
desires and efforts, go back again to the world.
" I ought to add, perhaps, that those who were the subjects
of this remarkable work, generally remained steadfast in the
faith. In the severe trials which followed, some of them were
shaken for a time, but returned again. The great body were
steadfast — immovable."
These things took place, for the most part, in the spring and
summer of 1685. The following is one of a number of incidents
connected with this state of things. " There was a sister in one
of the convents of the city, who for eight years had been in a
state of religious melancholy. No one seemed to understand her
case, or was able to give relief. I had never been in that con
vent ; for I was not in the habit of going into such places unless
I was sent for, as I did not think it right to intrude, but left
myself to be conducted by Providence. Under these circum
stances, I was not a little surprised that, near the close of a long
summer's day, after setting of the sun, a message was suddenly
sent to me from the Prioress, requesting me to visit this House.
On my way thither, I met one of the sisters, who told me the
occasion of my being thus suddenly summoned was the afflicted
and insane state of this poor woman. She had made an attempt

OF MADAME GUYON. 225
to kill herself. Her earnest desire to obtain reconciliation with
God, and her deep conviction of the impossibility of securing it
by ceremonial observances alone, had produced such a conflict
in her mind, that its very foundations were shaken ; but not so
much so as to deprive her of the power of correct perception for
the most part of the time.
" A person coming in to see her about this time, who had
known something of my personal history, advised her to converse
with me. Being thus made to understand the general facts of
the case, I laid it inwardly before the Lord, who enabled me to
understand it more fully. For many years, compelled as it were
by the doctrine and discipline which ascribed the highest results
to austerities and ceremonial observances, she had struggled
against those inward convictions, which assured her that there
is a better way. I endeavoured to explain to her that this
resistance must cease ; that she must no longer rely upon ob
servances, or trust to personal merits, but must trust in Christ,
and resign herself to Him alone. God was pleased to bless
these efforts. Being a woman of great capacity, she appreciated
at once the views which were presented. Submitting herself to
God through Christ, and willing to leave all things in His
hands in faith, she entered at once into the peace of Paradise.
She was so much changed, that she became the admiration of
the Religious Community. God's presence was with her con
tinually, and her spirit and power of prayer were wonderful."
But the work did not stop here. A considerable number of
persons in the Convent gave attention to these great truths. It
was something new, with those who had practised observances
and austerities so long, to hear of reconciliation with God, by
the simple and scriptural method of faith in Christ alone. And
the announcement, coming though it did from woman's lips, but
attended with what gives the true power to every announce
ment, namely, the Saviour's blessing, brought consolation to
many a mourning heart. The thorough reformation of one of
the inmates in particular, whose ungovernable dispositions had
for many years given trouble, attracted great notice. Tlie won-

226. LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
derful change thus wrought in others, and particularly in this
individual, was the means of establishing an intimate friendship
between the Prioress and herself.
Her labours were not limited to religious instruction. The
efforts so happily made at Thonon to establish an hospital for
the sick, were followed by similar efforts at Grenoble. She
mentions it -incidentally, in a subsequent period. " I believe
I forgot to say, in the proper place, that the Lord condescended
to make use of me to establish an hospital in Grenoble. Some
expense was necessarily incurred in the beginning ; but it was
established without permanent or vested funds, on the principle
of being supplied by voluntary contributions from the fund of
Providence. My enemies afterwards made use of this bene--
yolent effort, as, an occasion for speaking ill of me, alleging that
I had taken property for the founding of such institutions, which
had been settled on my children. This was not true. My
children not only fully received what was settled upon them,
but shared also in what was assigned to mo. As to the hospitals,
instead of ascribing their support to me or any oue else, it would
be better, to say that they are supported only on the fund of
Divine Providence, which is inexhaustible. But so it has. been
ordered for my good, that all the Lord has enabled me to do for
His glory, has ever been turned by man's malignity into trials
an,d crosses for me. Many of my trials I have omitted to parti
cularize, for the number of them has been so great."

CHAPTER XXIX.
Origin of the Monastery of the Grande Chartreuse— Visited by Madame Guyon— The ap
proach to it — Conversation between Father Innocentius and Madame Guyon — Opposition
at Grenoble — ner method of prayer in religious conferences — Commences Coinmentaries
on the Bible— Of her spiritual state— Her Commentary on the Oanticles— Her sympathy
with King David when occupied in writing on t)io book of Kings— Tho Short Method of
Prayer — Its origin — On tbe writing of books as a means of good.
> Eight miles north of Grenoble is the celebrated monastery of
tbe Grapde Chartreuse. In the year 1084, Bruno, a native of

OF MADAME GUYON. 227
Cologne, founder of the Order of Carthusian monks, a man of i
learning and piety, came to Grenoble, and requested the bishop
to allow him to establish himself, for religious purposes, iii some
place of retirement within his diocese. Hugh, bishop of the
city, strongly recommended him, and the few pious persons with
him, as a place suitable to their purposes, the neighbouring de
sert of the Chartreuse — a place effectually precluded from intru
sion by frightful precipices and almost inaccessible rocks. The
proposition was readily accepted. Delighted with the prospect
of separating themselves from the world, they went into this re- j
markable retreat ; and removed almost from the possibility of j
worldly interruptions, they built their places of prayer. Such '}
was the origin of the monastery of the Grande Chartreuse.
The original rule did not allow the visits of women, but was .
subsequently relaxed to some extent ; but however this may be, ,
we find that Madame Guyon, impelled by motives of a religious
nature, visited this celebrated place. This, to a woman at least,
was no small undertaking, although the distance was not great.
As the traveller approaches the Grande Chartreuse, he emerges j
from a long and gloomy forest, abruptly terminated by immense
mountains. The pass, through which the ascent of the moun
tains is commenced, winds through stupendous granite rocks.'
At the end of this terrific defile the road is crossed by a romantic '
mountain torrent, over which is a rude stone bridge. The road
no sooner leaves the bridge, than it turns suddenly in another '
direction, and thus presents at once before the traveller a lofty
mountain, on the flattened summit of which the Carthusian ,
monastery is situated, enclosed on either side by other mountain i
peaks still more elevated, whose tops are whitened with per
petual snows.
" No sooner is the defile passed," says a traveller who passed;
through it a few years before the period of which we are now
speaking, " than nothing, which possesses either animal or vege
table life, is seen. No huntsman winds his horn in these dreary1
solitudes; no shepherd's pipe is allowed to disturb the deep
repose. It is not permitted the mountaineers ever to lead then'

228 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
| flocks beyond the entrance of the defile ; and even beasts of
prey seem to shrink back from that dreaded pass, and instinc
tively to keep away from a desert which neither furnishes sub
sistence nor covert. Nothing, as we passed upward, met the eye
but tremendous precipices and huge fragments of rock, diversi-
, fied with glaciers in every possible fantastic form.
" Sometimes the rocks, jutting out above, overhung us, till
• they formed a complete arch over our heads, and rendered the
path so dark that we could scarcely see to pick our way. Once
we had to pass over a narrow pine plank which shook at every
step. This was placed, by way of bridge, over a yawning chasm,
which every moment threatened to engulf the traveller in its
marble jaws. We often passed close by the side of abysses so
profound as to be totally lost in darkness ; while the awful
roaring of the waters struggling in their cavities, shook the very
• rocks on which we trod."
, Such are the terms in which the learned and justly celebrated
¦ Port Royalist, Claude Lancelot, speaks of his journey through
these sublime rocks and over these rugged ascents and precipices.
From the bridge at the termination of the defile to the level
opening on the top of the mountain where tbe monastery is
situated, the ascent is a little more than two miles. The mon
astery itself is a very striking object, venerable alike by its
massive strength and its high antiquity. Although correctly
described as situated on the summit of a mountain, it is never-
i theless enclosed on two sides by stupendous rocks and peaks, of
still greater height, which reach far above the clouds, and almost
shut out the light of tho sun. Hero dwell a company of monks,
about forty in number, under a General or Prior ; they have'a
large library ; many of them are men of extensive information
and learning ; their duties and austerities arc subjected to strict
rules ; their mode of living is simple ; and much of their time i.s
' .spent in acts of devotion.
j About a third of a mile below the monastery, in a little
opening on the side of the ascent, is a building which may be
regarded as an appendage to it, though separate from it in some

OF MADAME GUYON. 229
respects. The principal building at this place, and the cells \
around it, .arc occupied by lay brethren and other persons, who
wish to be connected with the members of the Chartreuse, and
to be under their direction, without wholly conforming to the
severity of their rule. To this place, probably, and not the
monastery proper, Madame Guyon ascended. The learned and
venerable Prior, Father Innocentius, attended by his monks, '
came down to meet her. The conversation turned upon the sub
ject of religious faith. She proclaimed, not authoritatively or in
any way inconsistent with female modesty and propriety, the
indispensable necessity, not only of justification by faith, but of
faith as the foundation of the whole inward Christian life.
Christian candour compels us to think favourably of the reli-,
gious professions and hopes of these good brethren. But the
broad annunciation of faith as the foundation of everything, a
doctrine which excludes all claims of personal merit, we may
well suppose, extracted from them, notwithstanding their habits
of quietude and silence, marked ejaculations of doubt and asto
nishment. Many were their ceremonial observances. Eight
months of the year, if we may believe their statements, they
fasted in the stricter sense of the term ; and the rest of the time
they ate no meat ! Was all this to go for nothing ? But it
was the doctrine of Faith, in connexion with its thoroughly sanc
tifying results, which particularly attracted the notice of the Prior.
" Some six or seven years ago," says Father Innocentius, in*
allusion to this interview, " Madame Guyon found her way
upward to our solitary home in the rocks. Although contrary
to our usual custom, I thought it an occasion on which I might,
be excused for conversing with this lady. I took with me, how-'
ever, a number of the brethren, as witnesses of what passed be- .
tween us. And they will now bear me testimony, that, after ;
the conversation, and when Madame Guyon had left us, I im- ;
mediately expressed my suspicions, in very strong terms, of thej
soundness of her views."* It was not long before his suspicions
* La Vie de Messire Jean d'Aranthon D'Alex, Liv. in., chap. lv— This work was publishod
anonymously, but the author of it was Father Iunocontlus himself.

230 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
j ripened into convictions, and he became one of the leading
writers in opposition to her. Probably never before nor since
have those solitary rocks listened to the voice of woman, coming
I among them under such circumstances, and announcing to their
| inmates such salutary truths.
Not long after this visit she experienced the beginnings of
that practical opposition from which she had suffered in other
places. " The lady, who was my particular friend," she says,
" began to conceive some jealousy on account of the applause
which was given me ; God permitted that she should be thus
tempted and afflicted, in order that she might know herself, and
become more thoroughly purified. Also some of those persons
who sustained the office of Confessors in the Church, began to
be uneasy, saying, that I had gone out of my place, and that it
was not my proper business to aid in this manner, in the in
struction and restoration of souls.
" It was easy for me," she adds, " to see the difference be
tween those Confessors who seek nothing but God's glory, and
those who make their office subservient to their own interests.
Those of the first class came to see me, and approved of my
labours, and greatly rejoiced in the grace of God bestowed on
their penitents. The others, on the contrary, seemed to despise
the good, because, they contemned the instrument of it ; and tried
in a secret manner to excite the town against me."
The appearance of an opposition, at first comparatively feeble,
but continually increasing in violence, did not compel her imme
diately to remit her labours. She still continued her assemblies
for conversation and prayer. She conversed much, but not
without supplication mingled with it. When persons were col
lected together, before entering upon conversation, and from time
to time when especial Divine communion seemed to be necessary,
it was her practice to pray in silence. Such had been her devo
tional babits, that she entered into this state in a remarkable
manner. The mind turned inward upon itself. Her closed or
uplifted eye, her hands clasped together, her serene countenance
abstracted from worldly influences but lighted up with a Divine

OF MADAME GUYON. 231
ray, left the conviction upon those who were present with her, j
that her soul was in a communion with the Eternal, too deep for
the utterance of words. Such a conviction could hardly fail to
react upon themselves, to check the current of their worldly
affections, and to produce the most salutary religious impressions. I
The Holy Ghost has a language outward, as well as inward..
Within, it gives holy dispositions ; without, it shows itself in the
natural signs and expressions of peace, love, forbearance, purity,
desire for the good of others ; all elevated and sanctified by that
holy confidence, which results from the knowledge of God's un
changeable friendship. A countenance, purified and irradiated
by the Divine power of this inward illumination, necessarily has
something in it which is more angelic than human.
" There is a light around her brow,
A holiness in those calm eyes,
Which show, though earth may claim it now,
Her spirit's home is in the skies."
Before the glance of that eye, the illuminated expression of that
peaceful countenance, jealousy, pride, malice, impurity, revenge1,
Belfishness, and every evil thing, stand rebuked and condemned..
At Thonon, Madame Guyon wrote the Spiritual Torrents. At
Grenoble, she commenced her Commentaries on the Bible, which
are, for the most part, experimental and practical. A critical
and exegetical commentary cannot be written to much purpose,
without a knowledge of the Hebrew language and of other dia
lects related to it in origin. To this knowledge she made no
pretensions ; though, having some knowledge of the Latin, she
was able to avail herself of some important helps in that lan
guage, as well as of commentaries in French and Italian.
Her method, for the most part, was this, — She placed the
Bible before her, and studied it, both in the Latin and French
translations, to ascertain, in the first place, what meaning it
would present to a mind, humbly and honestly directing itself to
the pursuit of the truth. In addition to this, she adopted the
idea, not only that the Old and New Testaments are parts of
one system, but that the import of the one can, in many cases,

232 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
best be reached and understood by a comparison of the related
topics and passages of the other. And accordingly she studied
them together, and interpreted the one by the other. But this
, was not all. The Holy Scriptures are full of truths which can
not well be received and appreciated, except in connexion with
an inward experience corresponding to them. Not unfrequently
the light of the mind, inspired by the inward agency of the
Spirit of truth, throws light upon the outward letter. If
I Madame Guyon had less of that form of exegetical knowledge,
, which is derived from an access to the original tongues of the
' Scriptures, than some others, she had more, much more, of that
inward, spiritual insight, which, to say the least, is equally valu-
' able. " I wrote my Commentaries on the Scriptures," she says,
" for the most part, in the night ; in time taken from sleep.
The Lord was so present to me in this work, and kept me so
under control, that I both began and left off writing just as He
was pleased to order it ; writing when He gave me inward light
and strength, and stopping when He withheld them. I wrote
with very great rapidity, light being diffused within me in such
a manner, that I found I had in myself latent treasures of
perception and knowledge, of which I had but little previous
conception." Her Commentaries on the Bible have all been published ;
those on the Old Testament in twelve small octavo volumes, and
those on the New Testament in eight. A part only were written
at Grenoble. Of these volumes, the most remarkable is the
work on the Canticles. Taking the view adopted by the greater
number of the earlier critics, Madame Guyon regards this re
markable poem, in its higher or spiritual sense, as a conversation
between the truly sanctified soul and Christ. In the concluding
part of her Commentary, she brings out very fully her views of
the union of the soul with Christ, and with God through Christ.
This work indicated so distinctly and fully the doctrine of a
heart wholly .delivered, if not from everything which requires
penitent humiliation and the application of Christ's blood, yet at
least from all known voluntary sin, as a doctrine to be taught,

OF MADAME GUYON. 233
believed, and realized, that it became the subject of special criti
cism and rebuke.
One passage, illustrative of the operations of her mind in the
preparation of her Commentaries, may be given here. " In
writing my Commentaries on the Books of Kings, when I gave
attention to those parts which had relation to king David, I felt
a very remarkable communion of spirit with him, as much so
almost as if he had been present with me. Even before I
had commenced writing, in my previous and preparatory con
templations, I .had experienced this union. By a remarkable
operation upon me, I seemed to comprehend very fully the great
ness of his grace, the conduct of God over him, and all the cir
cumstances of the states through which he had passed. In his
capacity of leader and pastor of Israel, I was deeply impressed
with a view of him, as a striking type of Christ. The Saviour
and His people are one. And it seemed to be nothing less than
that pure and holy union, which I had previously experienced in
connexion with the Saviour, which now extended itself to the
king of Israel, His antitype, and embraced him and also other
saints. It was in the experience of this intimate union with
Christ and with those who are like Him, that my words, whether
written or spoken, had a wonderful .effect, with God's blessing,
in forming Christ in the souls of others, and in bringing them
into the same 6tate of union."
She says further : " A considerable part of my comments on
the Book of Judges happened by some means to be lost. Being
desired by some of my friends to render the book complete in
that part which was wanting, I wrote over again the places
which were missing. Afterwards, when the people of the house
where I had resided were about leaving it for some reason,
the papers which had been mislaid were found. My former and
latter explications were found on comparison to be conformable to
each other with scarcely any variation, which greatly surprised
persons of knowledge and merit who examined them."
She makes the following statement in regard to the publica-1
tion of the book: A Short Method of Prayer. "Among my I

234 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
i intimate friends was a civilian, a counsellor of the Parliament
of Grenoble, who might be described as a model of piety. See
ing on my table my manuscript treatise on Prayer, he desired
me to lend it to him. Being much pleased with it, he lent it
to some of his friends. Others wanted copies of it. He resolved,
therefore, to have it printed. Tho proper ecclesiastical permis
sions and approbations were obtained. I was requested to write
¦ a Preface, which I did.
" Under these circumstances this book, which within a few
1 years, passed through five or six editions, was given to the
world. The Lord has given a great blessing to this little trea
tise ; but it has caused great excitement among those who did
not accede to its principles, and has been the pretence of various
¦ trials and persecutions which I have endured."
Books are God's instruments of good as well as sermons. He
who cannot preach may talk ; and he who cannot do either, may
perhaps write. A good book, laid conscientiously upon God's
altar, is no small thing. How abundant is the evidence of this.
Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Religion, Baxter's Saint's
Rest, the Imitation of Christ, and many other works which
might be mentioned, have exerted a wide influence of the most
salutary kind, felt in every part of the world, and perpetuated
from generation to generation.

CHAPTER XXX.
Analysis of The Method of Prayer — The word — Those without the spirit of prayer invited to
seek it— Directions to aid persons — Additional directions— Higher religious experience-
Entire consecration to God— The test of consecration — Inward holiness the true regulator
of the outward life — Of gradual growth — The knowledge of our inward sins — The manner
of meeting temptations — The soul in the state of pure love — The prayer of silence — The
true relation of human and Divine activity— The nature and conditions of the state of
Divine union — Appeal to pastors and teachers.
As the work on Prayer is frequently referred to, and was con
sidered so important as to be made the subject of ecclesiastical
condemnation, I give a concise analysis of it.

OF MADAME GUYON. 235
1. Remarks in explanation of the use of the term Prayer.
St. Paul (1 Thessalonians v. 17) has enjoined upon us "to
pray without ceasing. Our Saviour (Mark xiii. 33) requires
us " to take heed, to watch, and to pray." But what is that
prayer ? It is obviously something more than the formal offer
ing up of specific petitions. The prayer of which I speak, is
that state of the heart in which it is united to God in faith and
love. A man who has this heart, may pray at all times. It is the j
natural, the spontaneous flowing out of the heart, in the issues
of its own moral and religious life. All classes of persons, in
all ages and in all situations, may pray. If they have the ,
spirit of prayer, how can they help praying ?
Prayer, then, and religion, are the same thing.
2. All without the spirit of prayer are invited to seek it.
Come, ye famishing souls, who find nought whereon to feed,
come, and ye shall be satisfied 1 Come, ye poor afflicted ones,
who groan beneath your load of wretchedness and pain, and ye
shall find ease and comfort I Come, ye sick, to your Physician,
and be not fearful of approaching Him, because ye are filled
with diseases. Expose them to His view, and they shall be
healed I Children, draw near to your Father, and Ho will em
brace you in the arms of love. Come, ye poor, wandering sheep,
return to your Shepherd ! Come, sinners, to your Saviour I
Let all, without exception, come 1 for Jesus Christ hath called
all. Yet, let not those come who are without a heart ; those
who are without a heart arc not asked ; for there must be a
heart, in the natural sense of the term at least, in order that
there may be love. But of whom can it be said, that he is
really without a heart ?
3. Directions to a person very ignorant and without religion
in respect to the manner in which he may properly seek it.
I will suppose that they hardly know anything, or are hardly;
capable of knowing anything, except the Lord's prayer. And
this is my direction : let them begin with what they are supposed
to know, namely, the Lord's Prayer. Let them say, Oun

23G life and religious experience
| Father, and stop there ; remaining in respectful silence and
meditation ; pondering a little upon the meaning of the words,
. and especially upon the infinite willingness of God to become
their Father. And before they go further, let them utter the
petition, that He may become to them individually what He is
so willing to be.
Let them proceed, then, to the petition, Thy kingdom come.
And delaying upon this as before, until they can imbibe its
spirit, which is one of the most important things in this pro
cess, let them apply the petition, as in the preceding instance,
to themselves ; beseeching this King of glory to reign in them,
and endeavouring with Divine assistance, to yield to Him the
just claim He has over them, and to resign themselves wholly
to His Divine government.
; Then let them take another petition ; — Thy will be done on
earth as it is done in heaven. And here let them humble
themselves before God, and earnestly supplicate, that God's will,
HiB whole will, may be accomplished in their hearts, in them
and by them for ever. And knowing that God's will is accom
plished in us when we love Him, it is the same thing if they
should pray God to enable them to love Him with all their heart.
And in doing this, however sinful and unworthy they may be,
let them be calm and peaceable ; not disturbed and agitated,
as if there were no Saviour, no Divine Shepherd, who is the
daily nourishment of His people, and feeds His flock, as it were,
with Himself; not fearful and distrustful, as if God were not
merciful or might not be true to His promises, when He pledges
' forgiveness for Christ's sake.
4. Additional directions for those who are beginning to seek
religion. Persons are not to overburden themselves with frequent repe
titions of set forms of prayer. Our Saviour says, When ye pray,
use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do ; for they think they
shall be heard for their much speaking. Begin with the Lord's
Prayer as the simplest and best. Go over it slowly, calmly,
believingly ; not being in a hurry to go over the whole and then

OF MADAME GUYON. 237
to repeat it, as if the result depended on the repetition, and the j
number of repetitions ; but delaying upon each petition.
A second remark is, that you are to place God before you as
the Being to whom you are to be reconciled, and from whom
you are to receive all good. But be careful not to form any
image of the Deity. The idea of God, whatever may be some
times thought, can never be represented and set forth by any
thing which the eye beholds or the hand touches, by anything
which exists in sculpturo and painting. " God is a Spirit,"
says the Saviour, " and they that worship Him must worship,
Him in spirit and in truth.''
A third remark is this, — do not forget Him who is the way, !
the truth, and the life, the Saviour, the second person in the!
ever blessed Trinity. He is the way. Enter to God through
Him. Behold Him in the various states of His Incarnation.
You are a man, with all of man's feebleness and temptations ;
— behold Him assuming humanity in order that He may sym
pathize with you. You are a sinner ; — behold Him upon the
cross, dying that you might live. In the Lord's Prayer, God
offers Himself to you. Uttering that prayer in Christ, who is
the mediatorial way, you receive God ; and in receiving Him,
you receive the true and everlasting life.
Persevere in this way, asking for few things, and such as are j
very essential, found in the Lord's Prayer ; pausing upon each
with a calm and silent looking up to God through Christ ; ceas
ing from your own strength in order that you may find strength'
in the Saviour by faith.
5. Directions applicable to persons of some degree of know-\
ledge and education.
Those who have more knowledge, men of reading, may very
properly avail themselves of their intellectual position in further
ing this great object. The directions already given are exceed
ingly important to them. But in addition, let them read books
on experimental religion, delaying upon the most important
truths, and praying over them, till the power which is in them,
being made alive by the Holy Ghost, is felt in the heart.

238 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
i Meditation also, as distinct from reading, is to be practised
on similar principles. In retirement, endeavour, by a lively act
of faith, to realize the relations in which you stand to God, and
place yourself, as it were, in His immediate presence. In
general, this is the first great thought upon which the mind
should be occupied; — God is; God is present; God is our
Father ; to Him we owe all. Let the mind repose calmly and
believingly upon these great truths, and other important religious
truths, in which there is substance and food for the inquiring
mind, such as our lost condition by nature, Christ our Mediator,
God the inward Teacher of men in the person of the Holy
Ghost ; dwell quietly and humbly, with the senses and thoughts
withdrawn from the circumference to the centre. Thus wait
¦ upon the Lord with strong desire, but without agitation.
. G. Of an increased or higher degree of religious experience.
The soul has at first but a little realizing sense of God. It
says, my Father, it is true, but says it very tremblingly. But
after a time it gains strength. It begins to see more and more
distinctly how God, whom as a sinner it feared, can be fully
reconciled. It believes more fully in God, because it believes
more fully in Christ, who is the only way of access.
In this advanced state the soul begins to recognise the great
truth, that our love to God should be without selfishness, and
that our will should be perfectly united in His will. The ser-
' vant, who only proportions his diligence to the hope of reward,
renders himself unworthy of all reward. We must learn to seek
God in distinction from His gifts, and God is in His will. Sup
posing, then, that God should smite you with afflictions without
and temptations within, and should leave the soul in a state of
entire aridity, do what God requires you to do, and suffer what
He requires you to suffer ; but in everything be resigned and
patient 1 With humility of spirit, with a sense of 'your own
nothingness, with tho reiterated breathings of an ardent but
peaceful affection, and with inward submission and quietness,
you must wait the return of the Beloved. In this way you will
demonstrate that it is God himself alone and His good pleasure

OF MADAME GUYON. 239
which you seek, and not the selfish delights of your own sensa
tions. 7. Of abandonment or entire consecration to God in all things.
But this cannot well be done without the principlo of aban- \
donment ; by which I mean that act in which we resign, abandon, c
or consecrate ourselves entirely to God. Those who are con
secrated, have given their own wills into the keeping of God's
will. Such a soul is resigned in all things, whether for soul or
body, whether for time or eternity ; by leaving what is past in
oblivion ; by leaving what is to come to the decisions of Provi
dence ; and by devoting lo God, without any reserve, the present
moment; — a moment which necessarily brings with it God's
eternal order of things, and in everything, excepting sin, is a
declaration to us of His will as certain and infallible, as it is
inevitable and common to us all.
8. Of the test or trial of consecration.
God will give us opportunities to try our test, whether it be a
true one or not. No man can be wholly the Lord's, unless he is
wholly consecrated to the Lord ; and no man can know whether
he is thus wholly consecrated, except by tribulation. That is the ,
test. To rejoice in God's will, when that will imparts nothing
but happiness, is easy even for the natural man. But none but
the renovated man, none but the religious man, can rejoice in
the Divine will, when it crosses his path, disappoints his ex
pectations, and overwhelms him with sorrow. Trial, therefore,
instead of being shunned, should be welcomed as the test, and
the only true test, of a true state.
Beloved souls I There are consolations which pass away ; but
ye will not find true and abiding consolation except in entire
abandonment, and in that love which loves the cross. He who
does not welcome the cross, does not welcome God.
9. Inward holiness the true regulator of the outward life. I
When we have the true life within, we may reasonably be;
expected to have the truly regulated life without. " Love,"
says St. Augustine, " and do what you please." If we have
love without selfishness, it will not fail to work itself out in

240 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
appropriate and right issues. The inordinate action of the
senses arises obviously from the errors and perversions of the
inward state. Mortify the inward man ; and you can hardly
fail to mortify and regulate the outward man.
10. Of gradual growth or advancement in the religious life.
The soul fully given up in faith and love, is astonished to find
God gradually taking possession of its whole being. One of the
evidences of growth in grace is a tendency to cease from our
selves, in order that God himself, in the operation of the Holy
Ghost, may exist and act in us.
A soul in this state is prepared for all times, places, and
occasions ; for society, for worship, for outwiird action. When,
through woakness of purpose, or want of faith, we become, as it
were, uncentred, it is of immediate importance to turn again
gently and sweetly inward ; and thus bring the soul into har
mony with the desires and purposes of God. The more the soul
becomes like God, the more clearly it discerns God's excellences ;
and the more distinctly and fully it feels His attracting power.
11. Of a knowledge of our inward sins when souls are in this
advanced state.
If a soul, in this intimate nearness with God, should be left
to fall into any error or sin, it would be immediately thrown into
the greatest confusion and inward condemnation. God becomes
the incessant examiner of the soul ; but still in such a way,
that the soul, moving in the Divine light, can see and examine
for itself.
When we fall into errors, and even undoubted sins, the rules
1 of inward holy living require us not to vex and disquiet our
selves ; but simply in deep humiliation and penitence, to turn
calmly and believingly, without fear and without agitation, to
Him who forgives willingly, to that cross of Christ, where it
can be truly said, that wounded souls are healed. Great agita
tion and vexation of mind are not necessarily penitence nor the
result of penitence, but are rather the result of unbelief
12. Of the manner in ivhich we are to meet and resist tempta
tions.

OF MADAME GUYON. 241
Temptations may be resisted in two ways. One way is to i
resist them in a direct contest. The other method is, to turn
away the mind from the contemplation of the evil in its outward
form, and to keep it fixed, if possible, still more closely and
watchfully upon God. A little child, on perceiving a monster,
does not wait to fight with it, and will scarcely turn its eyes to
ward it ; but quickly shrinks into the bosom of its mother, in
entire confidence of safety ; so likewise should the soul turn
from the dangers of temptation to her God. " God is in the
midst of her," saith the Psalmist, " she shall not be moved :
God shall help her, and that right early." (Psalm xlvi. 5.)
If in our weakness we attempt to attack our enemies, we shall I
frequently be wounded, if not totally defeated ; but by casting
ourselves into the simple presence of God, in the exercise of
faith, we shall find instant supplies of strength for our support.
This was the succour sought for by Diivid. " I have set," saith
he, " the Lord always before me ; because He is at my right I
hand I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and
my glory rejoiceth ; — my flesh also shall rest in hope." (Psalm
xvi. 8, 9.) And it is said in Exodus, " The Lord shall fight for
you, and ye shall hold your peace."
13. Of the soul in the state of pure or unselfish love.
When we have given ourselves to God in abandonment, and
have exercised faith in God that He does now, and that He will
ever receive us and make us one with Himself, then God be
comes central in the soul, and all which is the opposite of God
gradually dissolves itself, if one may so speak, and passes
away. Self is now destroyed. The soul, recognising God as its
centre, is filled with a love, which, as it places God first, and
everything else in the proper relation to Him, may be regarded
as pure. It is not until we arrive at this state, in the entire
destruction and loss of self, that we acknowledge, in the highest
and truest sense, God's supreme existence ; still less do we, or
can we, have God as a life within us.
In experimental religion there are two great and important]
Q

242 LIFE AND religious experience
j views — perhaps there are none more important — which are ex
pressed by the single terms, the All and the Nothing. We
must become Nothing in ourselves, before we can receive the All
or Fulness of God.
, 14. Of the practice of the prayer of silence.
' When the soul has reached this degree of experience, it is dis
posed to practise the prayer of silence, so called, not merely
because it excludes the voice, but because it has so simplified its
petitions, that it has hardly anything to say, except to breathe
forth, in a desire unspoken, — Thy will be done. This prayer, so
simple and yet so comprehensive, may be said to embody the
whole state of the soul. And believing that this prayer is and
must be fulfilled moment by moment, the constant fruition crowns
the constant request, and it rejoices in what it has, as well as in
what it seeks.
The soul in this Divine prayer acts more nobly and more ex
tensively than it had ever done before ; since God himself is its
mover, and it now acts as it is acted upon by the agency of the
Holy Ghost. When St. Paul speaks of our being led by the Spirit
of God, it is not meant that we should cease from action ; but
that our action should be in harmony with and in subordination
to the Divine action. This is finely represented by the prophet
Ezekiel's vision of the wheels, which had a living spirit ; and
whithersoever the spirit was to go, they went ; they ascended
and descended as they were moved ; for the spirit of life was in
them, and they returned not when they went.
We promote the highest activity, by inculcating a total de-
' pendence on the Spirit of God as our moving principle ; for it is
in Him, and by Him alone, that " we live and move and have
our being."
15. Of the true relation of human and Divine activity.
In the early periods of his Christian experience man is re
quired to labour much, strive much, act much, obviously to con
quer himself, to smite and annul his own selfishness, to restrain
and regulate his own multiplied and unholy activity, in order
that he may be rendered submissive and quiet before God.

OF MADAME GUYON. 243
While the tablet is unsteady, it is obvious that the painter is
unable to delineate a true copy.
It is thus in the inward life. Every act of our own unsub
dued and selfish spirit, even while God is operating upon it, is
productive of false and erroneous lineaments.
" If any man be in Christ," says the apostle Paul, " he is a
new creature. Old things are passed away ; behold, all things
are become new." But this state of things can be made to exist
only by our dying to ourselves and to all our own activity, except
so far as it is kept in subordination to Divine grace, in order that
the activity of God may be substituted in its stead. Instead,
therefore, of prohibiting activity, we enjoin it ; but we enjoin
it in absolute dependence on the Spirit of God ; so that the
Divine activity, considered as antecedent in action, and as giving
authority to action, may take the place of the human. " Jesus
Christ," we are told, "hath the life in Himself;" and nothing
but the grace which flows through Him is, or can be, the moral
and religious life of His people.
16. Of the nature and conditions of the state of Divine union,
or union with God.
The result of all religion is to bring us into union with God.)
We are made one with Him in understanding, when by renounc-1
ing our own wisdom, we seek continually and believingly for
wisdom from on high ; one in affection, when we desire and love!
what He desires and loves ; one in will, when our purposes are!
as His are.
The Divine will never varies and never can vary, from the j
line of perfect rectitude on the one hand, and of perfect love on
the other. This is the law of its movement, unchangeable as
the Divine existence.
There can be no true moral union between God and man,
until the human will is brought into harmony with the Divine.
And this life of union, which is the highest and most glorious
result of our being, is the gift of God. A fundamental condi
tion of it is, that we shall resign ourselves to Him, that we may
be His in all things, and that we may receive this and all other

244 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
i blessings at His hand. God alone can accomplish it. Still, the
creature must consent to have it done. God loves His creatures;
God is the source of light to them ; God in Christ is the true
Saviour. But man must, at least, recognise his alienation, and
in becoming willing and desirous to be saved, must expand his
soul to the Divine operation. The creature, therefore, must open
the window ; it is the least he can do ; but it is the sun himself,
the Eternal Sun, that must give the light.
17. Of false pretensions to a state of sanctification and Divine
union. But some will say, that persons may feign this state who do
not possess it. A person may just as well feign this state and
no more, as the poor suffering man, who is on the point of perish
ing with hunger, can for a length of time feign to be full and
satisfied. There he is, no matter what his pretensions may be ;
his looks, his countenance, show his condition. Men may pre-
I tend to be wholly the Lord's, by harmony of affection and will,
and by being in entire moral union with Him ; but if they are
not so, there will certainly be something in look, in word, or in
action, which will show it.
18. Appeal to religious pastors and teachers.
' " The cause," she says, '' of our being so unsuccessful in re
forming mankind, especially the lower class, is our beginning
with external matters ;" — in this way, if we produce any fruit,
it is fruit which perishes. We should begin with principles,
which reach the interior, and tend to renovate the heart. This
is the true and the ready process ; to teach men to seek and to
know God in the heart — by affections rather than by forms.
¦ Thus we lead the soul to the fountain.
\ Impressed with the importance of the religion of the heart, I
beseech all, who have the care of souls, to put them at once into
the spiritual way. Preach to them Jesus Christ. He himself,
by the precious blood He hath shed for those intrusted to you,
conjures you to speak, not to that which is outward, but to
the heart of His Jerusalem. 0 ye dispensers of His graces, ye
preachers of His word, ye ministers of His sacraments, labour to

OF MADAME GUYON. 245
establish Christ's kingdom ! As it is the heart alone which can
oppose Christ's sovereignty, so it is by the subjection of the
heart that His sovereignty is most highly exalted. Employ
means, compose catechisms, and whatever other methods may
be proper, but aim at the heart. Teach the prayer of the heart,
and not of the understanding ; the prayer of God's Spirit, and
not of man's invention.
We have not followed precisely the language of the original,)'
but have given the idea with some slight variations of the
original arrangement. The Method of Prayer is a work remark
able, in that age, as coming from a woman, and still more re
markable, when contrasted with the prevalent views and practices'
of her Church. Its doctrines are essentially Protestant ; mak
ing Faith, in distinction from the merits of works, the founda
tion of the religious life, and even carrying the power of faith in
the renovation of our inward nature beyond what is commonly
found in Protestant writers. She, however, always insisted that
the doctrines which she advanced were the true Catholic doc
trines. Her work, entitled Justifications de la Doctrine de
Madame de la Mothe Guyon, shows how well qualified she was
to defend her position.

CHAPTER XXXI.
Increased opposition — Conversation with a distinguished preacher — Effect of the publication
of the Short Method of Prayer — Conversation with a poor girl — Increased violence — Her
feelings — Advised to go to Marseilles— Descends the Rhone — Incidents in the voyage —
Arrives at Marseilles — Excitement occasioned— Kind treatment of the Bishop of Mar
seilles — Opposition from others — Conversion of a priest — Acquaintance with a Knight of
the Order of Malta — Her interviews with M. Francois Malaval — Leaves for Nice — Dis
appointed in going from Nice to Turin — Sails for Genoa — Reflections on her exposure on
the ocean — Troubles at Genoa — Departs for Vcrcell— Met by robbers — Other trying in
cidents. The opposition in Grenoble increased, and assumed different
shapes. In some cases persons came to her to expose her views
and counteract them by argument. At one time she was visited

246 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
by a distinguished preacher of the city, a man of profound
learning. She says, " he had carefully prepared himself on a
number of difficult questions, which were to be proposed to me
for my answer. In some respects they were matters far beyond
my reach ; but I laid them before the Lord, and He enabled
me to answer them promptly and satisfactorily, almost as much
so as if I had made them the subjects of long study. This per
son was apparently convinced and satisfied, and went away with
a perception and experience of the love of God such as he had
not known before."
The excitement against her arose partly from religious con
ferences and other religious efforts, and partly from her book on
Prayer. This work had hardly been published, when some pious
persons purchased fifteen hundred copies, and distributed them
in the city and its neighbourhood. The effect was very great.
" God," she says, " had made me the instrument of great good;
but Satan, who takes no pleasure in God's works, was greatly
enraged. I saw clearly that the time had come when he would
stir up a violent persecution against me. But it gave me no
trouble. Whatever I may be made to suffer by his attacks, I
am confident that all will ultimately tend to God's glory."
" Among the subjects of the Divine operation, was a poor
girl, who earned her livelihood by her daily labour ; — a girl of
great truth and simplicity of spirit, and one who, in her inward
experience, was much favoured of the Lord. She came to me
one day, and said, ' 0 my mother, what strange things have I
seen I I have seen you like a lamb in the midst of a troop of
fierce wolves. I have seen a frightful multitude of people of
all ranks and robes, of all ages, sexes, and conditions, priests,
friars, married men, maids and wives, with pikes, halberts, and
drawn swords, all eager for your instant destruction. On your
part, you stood alone, but without surprise or fear. I looked on
all sides to see whether any would come to assist and defend
you, but I saw not one.'
" Some days after, those persons, who through envy were
raising private batteries against me, broke forth furiously. In-

OF MADAME GUYON. 247
jurious and libellous statements began to be circulated. Some
individuals, without any personal knowledge of me, wrote against
me. Some said that I was a sorceress, and by some magic power
attracted souls, and that everything in me was diabolical. Others
said, that if I did some charities, it was because I coined false
money ; with many other gross accusations equally false, ground
less, and absurd.
" But, amid all this, my soul, full of earnest desires, thirsted,
if I may so express it, for the salvation of my fellow-beings.
When I could not speak, I wrote ; and when I could not write,
nor impart my strong desires in any other way, my system was
overcome in the strength of my feeling, and I sank under it."
But the providences of God seemed to indicate that her mis
sion at Grenoble, which had been so strikingly characterized by
manifestations of the Divine power, was ended. So violent was
the tempest of indignation, that even her tried friends, anxious
for her personal safety, advised her to leave. Camus, Bishop of
Grenoble, a man of learning and piety, was friendly to her. He
was a Doctor of the Sorbonne, and not long after was appointed
Cardinal by Pope Innocent II.; but he was not able, though
obviously of favourable dispositions, to restrain the hostile move
ment which now existed.
His Almoner advised her strongly to leave the city and seek
refuge in Marseilles, till the storm should be over ; giving as a
reason that Marseilles was his native place, that there were
many persons of merit there, and that he thought, from his know
ledge of the situation of things, she would be favourably received.
Leaving her daughter under the care of her favourite maid
servant, in the Religious House where she was placed on their
first arrival, and taking with her another girl, she left the city
as secretly as possible ; influenced, in leaving in this manner, by
a desire to defeat the machinations of her enemies, and by a fear
of being burdened with the visits and lamentations of her friends.
Early in 1686, she thus finished her mission at Grenoble. Ac
companied by two females, and by the Almoner of Bishop
Camus, and another very worthy ecclesiastic, she took the route

248 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
along the banks of the river Isere, till it mingles with the Rhone,
a little above the ancient city of Valence. There they all em
barked upon the Rhone in one of the numerous boats employed
in navigating its waters.
About three miles from the city, they became satisfied that
tho boat (which they had taken in the expectation of overtaking
another larger one) would not answer their purpose, and they
were under the necessity of returning. As the boat was heavily
laden, and it was difficult to ascend the river with it, the passen
gers all left it and went back on foot, except Madame Guyon,
who was unable to walk so long a distance, and a young lad
who was supposed to be competent to take the boat back. Owing
either to the violence of the river, or his want of skill and
strength, he found it a very difficult thing to do it. At one time
he ceased his efforts entirely ; and leaving the boat to the mercy
of the waves, sat down and burst into tears, saying that they
must both be drowned. Madame Guyon, seeing the imminent
hazard to which they were exposed, went to him ; and by re
monstrating with him and encouraging him, induced him to
resume his efforts. After four hours of hard labour, they reached
the city ; and her companions having arrived by land, they
immediately took another boat more suited to their purpose.
Nothing is said of their stopping at any of the numerous towns
and cities which adorn the banks of the Rhone. Beaucaire and
Tarascon with their wealth and activity, Avignon with its bene
volent institutions, Aries with its amphitheatre and obelisk and
other remains of high antiquity — all ceased to have attractions
for those who felt that they had no home in any place where
Christ, preached in His simplicity, was likely to be excluded.
The navigation of the Rhone, which is one of the most rapid
rivers in Europe, is quite difficult. At one place the boat ran
upon a rock with such violence as let in the water in such a
manner as greatly to endanger them. There was great conster
nation on board ; but she speaks with devout satisfaction and
thankfulness of the peace and joy of mind with which God sus
tained her iu this threatening danger. The Almoner was as-

OF MADAME GUYON. 249
tonishcd to see that there was no sudden emotion of surprise, and
no change on her countenance.
They passed down, with great diligence and rapidity, nearly
the whole navigable length of the Rhone, and then leaving the
mouth of the river, and coasting a few miles along the shores of
the Mediterranean, they reached the ancient and celebrated
Marseilles ; — a city so well and so favourably known, even in the
time of Cicero, that he styled it the " Athens of the Gauls."
But this great and learned city furnished no refuge for this
fugitive praying woman. If an army had come among them, it
would scarcely have caused greater consternation. " I arrived
at Marseilles," she says, " at ten o'clock in the morning ; and
that very afternoon all was in uproar against me."
The occasion of this very sudden movement was this. She
had a letter of introduction to a Knight of the Order of Malta,
at Marseilles, written by one of her intimate friends in Grenoble,
a man of rank, but eminently pious. Accompanying the letter,
he sent the little book, entitled, A Short Method of Prayer.
Although a devout man himself, the knight had a chaplain,
whose opinions were not only in opposition to those of Madame
Guyon, but who felt unusually zealous in exhibiting that opposi
tion. He had probably heard of the book before, and might
perhaps have known what was in it. At any rate, he examined
it for a few moments, and perceiving, as he supposed, its heresies,
he at once went away to stir up a party both against the doc
trines of the book and its author.
Some went almost immediately to the bishop, stating to him
that it was necessary to banish at once the author of a book
which contained things so much at variance with what the
Church considered the truth. The bishop, however, before pro
ceeding to extremity, thought it necessary to examine the book
for himself, which he did in company with one of his prebends,
and he said that he liked it very well.
He took the pains also to send for individuals in whose judg
ment and piety he had confidence, among others for M. Francois
Malaval, a man of great piety and of some literary eminence,

250 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
and also for a Father of the Recollets, both of whom had known
Madame Guyon by reputation, and had called upon her very
soon after her arrival at Marseilles. They frankly stated to him
their favourable opinions of her character and writings, and also
what they knew of the nature and extent of the violent opposi
tion which she experienced. " The bishop testified much un
easiness," says Madame Guyon, " at the insults which were
offered me. He also expressed a strong desire for a personal
acquaintance ; so mnch so, that I was obliged to go and see him.
He received me with extraordinary respect, and begged my ex
cuse for what had happened. He invited me to stay at Mar
seilles ; and assured me — notwithstanding the unpleasant circum
stances existing — that he would do all in his power to protect
me. He even asked me where I lodged, that he might come
and see me."
" The next day," she adds, " tho Almoner of the Bishop of
Grenoble, and the other ecclesiastic who had accompanied us,
went to see him. He received them kindly, and testified to them
also his sorrow for the insults which had been offered me."
It was obvious, however, that a party was formed against her,
with such elements of strength and violence in it, that she could
not long remain in quiet. " Among other insults," she says,
" these persons wrote to me the most offensive letters possible,
though they did not know me. It seemed to me, with these
indications of His providence before me, that the Lord was be
ginning in earnest to take from me every place of abode."
She remained at Marseilles eight days only. Short as was the
time, and stranger as she was, she was enabled to do something
for that cause which was dearer to her than reputation or even
life. One day she entered into a church, in which some reli
gious services were being performed. The priest, who had the
direction of them, observed her ; and after they were concluded,
went immediately to the house in which she lodged, and stated
to her, with great simplicity and frankness, his inward trials and
necessities. " He made his statements," she remarks, " with as
much humility as simplicity. In a very short time he was filled

OF MADAME GUYON. 251
with joy, and thankful acknowledgments to God. He became
a man of prayer, and a true servant of God." Madame Guyon
remarked that in all places where she had been subject to ill
treatment and persecution, God had sustained her by some such
striking manifestations of His love and grace.
During her short stay, she became acquainted with many
pious persons, among others the knight to whom Bhe brought a
letter of introduction. Though a member of a military Order,
like the Roman centurion in the Acts he was a " devout man,
and one that feared God." " Since I have known him per
sonally," she says, " I have esteemed him as a man whom our
Lord designed to be of great service to others. I expressed my
opinion to him, that it would be desirable for him to reside at
Malta in closer union with those with whom he was associated,
and that God would assuredly make use of him to diffuse a
spirit of piety into many of them." In accordance with this
advice, he soon after went to Malta ; and such was the acknow
ledged excellence of his character, that he was almost imme
diately placed in a position of high authority and influence.
But we find nothing more said of him.
Her interviews with M. Francois Malaval must have been
interesting, if he were the author, as I suppose, of the Treatise
on the Inward or Contemplative Life,* already mentioned. He
was a man obviously of great intellectual power ; but laboured
under the disadvantage of having been blind, or nearly so, from
an early period of life. But God compensated for the want of
outward light by inward illumination.
He is frequently mentioned and criticised with earnestness
and apparent severity, in the controversial writings of Bossuet,
who was too conscious of his own vast strength to be likely to
enter the lists with feeble antagonists. '
Satisfied from various indications that Marseilles was not to
be the field of her labours, and not knowing whither to go, it
occurred to her that she might properly seek a place of refuge
again with the Marchioness of Prunai. This lady, who still
* Entitled in French, Pratique Facile pour ilevtr TAme A la Contemplation.

252 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
resided at Turin, or its neighbourhood, retained a strong friend
ship for Madame Guyon. Turin was a nearer and easier place
of refuge than any other which now presented itself.
Accompanied by the same persons, except the Almoner, who
seems to have returned to Grenoble, she left Marseilles, on the
ninth day after she arrived there, for Nice. This ancient and
pleasant city, situated near the Mediterranean, on the banks of
the river Var, lies in the direction of Turin, and about eighty
miles distant, and at a little distance from the Maritime Alps.
" I took a litter at Marseilles," says Madame Guyon, " for
the purpose of being conveyed once more to the residence of the
Marchioness of Prnnai. I supposed that I could reach her re
sidence by passing through Nice. But when I arrived at Nice,
I was greatly surprised to learn that tho litter, for some reasons,
could not pass the mountains which intervened. In this state
of things I knew not what to do, nor which way to turn. My
confusion and crosses seemed daily to increase. Alone, as it
were in the world, forsaken of all human help, and not know
ing what God required of me, I saw myself without refuge or
retreat, wandering like a vagabond on the face of the earth. I
walked in the streets ; I saw the tradesmen busy in the shops ;
all seemed to me to be happy in having a home, a dwelling-
place to which they could retire. I felt sadly that there was
none for me."
, This was a season of trial and temptation ; but we are not to
infer from these expressions that her faith was shaken. Faith
is tested by trial ; and oftentimes shines most brightly amid
, tears. — " In this uncertainty,'' she adds, " a person came to me,
and told me that one of the small vessels which traded between
Nice and Genoa, which usually reached Gonoa within twenty-
four hours, would sail the next day. He added that the captain
would land me, if I chose, at Savona, twenty miles this side of
Genoa, but so situated that I could readily find a conveyance to
the Marchioness of Prunai's house. To this I consented, as I
could not be furnished with any other means of getting there.
" As I embarked upon the sea," she says, " I could not help

OF MADAME GUYON. 253
experiencing emotions of joy. ' If I am the dregs of the earth,'
I said to myself, ' if I am the scorn and the offscouring of nature,
I am now embarked upon an element which, in its treachery,
shows no favour. If it be the Lord's pleasure to plunge me in
the waves, it shall be mine to perish in them.' There came
upon us a tempest, in a place which was somewhat dangerous
for small vessels ; and what rendered our situation the more
trying, the mariners seemed to be very wicked men. But still,
as the irritated waves dashed around us, I could not help ex
periencing a considerable degree of satisfaction in my mind. I
pleased myself with thinking that those mutinous billows, under
the command of Him who does all things rightly, might pro
bably furnish me with a watery grave. Perhaps I carried the
point too far in the pleasure which I took, in thus seeing myself
beaten and bandied by the swelling waters. Those who were
with me, took notice of my intrepidity; but knew not the cause
of it. I asked of thee, my Lord, if such were thy will, some
little cleft to be placed in, a small place of refuge in some rock
of the ocean, there to live separate from all creatures. I figured
to myself that some uninhabited island would have terminated
all my disgraces, and put me in a condition of infallibly doing
thy will. But, 0 my Divine Love, thou didst design me a
prison far different from that of the rock, and quite another
banishment than that of the uninhabited island. Thou didst
reserve me to be battered by billows 'more irritated than those
of the sea. Calumnies proved the outrageous, unrelenting waves
to which I was to bo exposed, in order to be laBhed and tossed
by them without mercy.
" Instead of a short day's passage to Genoa, we were eleven
days in reaching it. But during all this time, how peaceable
was my heart in so violent an agitation around me 1 The
swelling of the sea, and tho fury of its waves, were, as I thought,
only a figure of that swelling fury which all the creatures had
against me. I said to thee, 0 my Love, arm them all ; make
use of them all as instruments to humble me for my infidelities.
I seemed to behold thy right hand armed against me ; but

254 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
knowing that thy will was never at variance with the utmost
rectitude and benevolence, I loved more than my life the strokes
it gave me."
Owing to the storm probably, she was carried to Genoa.
About a year before, the French, irritated by some proceedings
of the Genoese, had bombarded their city. A large naval force,
under the command of the celebrated Admiral Duquesne, " re
duced to a heap of ruins," as it is given in the language of
Voltaire, *' a part of those marble edifices, which have gained for
Genoa the name of the Superb. Four thousand soldiers being
landed, advanced up to the gates of the city, and burned the
suburbs of St. Peter d' Arena." The Genoese, from that time,
had been exceedingly irritated against the French. And when
Madame Guyon and her little company landed, being recognised
at once as people from France, they were exposed to the marked
insults of the angry populace.
She thought it necessary, therefore, to leave Genoa as soon as
possible ; but she was met with another trial. The Doge had
recently left the city ; and, with his attendants, had taken all
the litters which could be had. She was obliged to remain there
several days at excessive expense ; the charges being very much
higher than at Paris. She had but little money left ; but did
not forget that her store in Providence could never be ex
hausted. After a few days and much inquiry, a sorry-looking litter was
brought her, supported by two lame mules. But as she did not
know precisely whether the Marchioness of Prunai resided at
Turin or in the vicinity, the owner of the litter refused to
make a bargain ; but offered to take her to Verceil, which was
somewhat nearer than Turin, being only two days' journey
distant, but in a little different direction. She adopted this alter
native as the one especially presented in Providence, as she
had, some time before, been repeatedly and earnestly invited by
the Bishop of Verceil to come there. She thought it proper,
however, to send him notice of her coming, by the ecclesiastic
who had attended her from Marseilles, who set out first ; leaving

OF MADAME GUYON. 255
Madame Guyon and her two female assistants to come by
themselves. " Our muleteer," she says, "was one of the most brutal of:
men. Seeing he had only women under his care, there was
scarcely any bounds to his insolence and rudeness." Before they '
had completed the first day's journey, they passed through a
large forest, which had the reputation of being infested with
robbers. " The muleteer was afraid, and told us, if we met any of
them on the road, we should be murdered, for they spared no
body. Scarcely had he uttered these words, when there appeared
four men well armed. They immediately stopped the litter.
The muleteer was exceedingly frightened. I was so entirely
resigned to Providence, that it was all one to die this way or
any other, in the sea or by the hands of robbers. The robbers
approached the litter and looked in. I smiled upon them and
made a slight bow of the head. In a moment God made them
change their design. Having pushed off each other, as if each
were desirous of hindering the others from doing any harm, they
respectfully saluted me, and with an air of compassion, retired.
I was immediately struck to the heart, 0 my Lord, with a full
conviction, that it was thine own especial influence, a stroke of
thine own right hand, who had other designs over me than thus
to make me die by the hands of robbers.
" How wonderful, 0 my God, at this, as at many other times, ,
has been thy protection over me ! How many perils have I
passed through in going over mountains, and on the edges of
steep and terrible cliffs I How often hast thou checked the foot
of the mule, already slipping over the precipice ! How often ;
have I been exposed to be thrown headlong from frightful !
heights into hideous torrents, which, though rolling in chasms far i
below our shrinking sight, forced us to hear them by their hor- \
rible noise I Thou, 0 God, didst guard me in such imminent
dangers. When the dangers were most manifest, then was my
faith in thee strongest. In thee my soul trusted. I felt that
if it were thy will that I should be dashed headlong down the

256 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
rocks, or drowned in the waters, or brought to the end of my life
in any other way, it would all be well ; the will of God, what
ever it might be in relation to me, making everything equal."
At the close of this day's journey, she found still further occa
sion for the trial of her faith and patience. " The muleteer,'' she
says, " seeing me attended by only two young women, thought
he might treat me in any manner he pleased ; perhaps expecting
to draw money from me. We were approaching the village
where we expected to remain, at the village inn, during the
night. What was our surprise, then, to hear the muleteer pro
pose to us to stop at a mill, about a mile and a quarter short of
the village — a place at which the muleteers sometimes stopped,
but at which no female resided. In the mill there was only a
single chamber, though there were several beds in it, in which
the millers and muleteers lodged together. In that chamber, and
in such company, these persons proposed to have me and my
maid-servants stay. I remonstrated ; and endeavoured by every
possible argument to induce the muleteer to carry us to the inn,
but without effect.
" At ten o'clock at night, therefore, in a strange place, we
were constrained to leave our conveyance, and set out on foot,
carrying a part of our clothes in our hands. The night was dark,
the way unknown, and we were obliged to pass through the end
of a forest, said to be the resort of plunderers. The muleteer,
disappointed in his evil designs upon us, hooted after us. I
bore my humiliation resignedly and cheerfully, but not without
feeling it."
They arrived safely at the inn. The good peoplo of the house,
seeing them come at this late hour of the night, on foot, with
their clothes in their hand, treated them very kindly. " They
assured us," says Madame Guyon, " that the place we left was
a very dangerous one ; and did all in their power to recover us
from the fatigue we had undergone."
The next morning, in consequence of an arrangement made
by the muleteer, they left the litter and took passage in the post-
chaise or post-waggon, which conveyed the public mails. They

OF MADAME GUYON. 257
reached Alexandria, one of the principal towns between Genoa
and Verceil. " When the driver, according to his usual custom,"
says Madame Guyon, " took us to the post-house, I was exceed
ingly astonished, when I saw the landlady coming out to oppose
his entrance. She had heard that there were women in the
carriage, and taking us for a different sort of persons from what
we were, she protested against our coming in. The driver was
determined to force his entrance in spite of her. The dispute
rose so high between them, that many officers of the garrison,
together with a vast mob, collected together at the noise. I
spoke to the mail carrier, and suggested that it might be well
to take us to some other house ; but, obstinate upon carrying
his point, he said he would not. He assured the landlady that
we were not only persons of good character, but persons also of
piety, the evidences of which he had seen. At last, by means
of his statements and urgency, he obliged her to come and see
us. As soon as she had looked upon us she relented at once,
and admitted us.
" No sooner had I alighted than she said to us, ' Go, shut
yourselves up in that chamber, and do not stir, that my son may
not know you are here ; for as soon as he knows it, he will kill
you.' She said this with so much emphasis, which was repeated
by the maid who attended her, that if death had not possessed
many charms for me, I should have been ready to die with fear.
The two girls were under frightful apprehensions. When they
heard any oue stirring in the house, and especially persons coming
to open the door of the chamber for any purpose, they thought
they were coming to cut their throats. In short, they continued
in a dreadful suspense between life and death till the next day,
when we learned that the young man had sworn to kill any
woman who lodged at the house. The reason of his taking this
extraordinary course was this. A few days before, an event had
happened which came near ruining him. A woman of bad
principles and life had lodged at his house. While there she
had privately murdered a man of some standing. Beside
other evils, a heavy fine was imposed upon the house ; and the
it

258 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
young man was exceedingly afraid of any mpre such persons
coming."

CHAPTER XXXII.
Arrives at Verceil — Interviews with La Combe — With the Bishop of Verceil — His kindness
— With one of tho Superiors of the Jesuits — Sickness — Decides to return to Paris — La
Combe selected to attend her — Departure — Visit to the MarchloneBB of Prunal — Crosses
the Alps for the third time — Meets her half-brother. La Motho, at Chainborrl — Reception
at Grenoble — From Grenoble for Paris — At Paris, after a five years' absence, July 1686.
She arrived safely at Verceil, a pleasant and flourishing town,
on the Sessia, one of the tributaries of the Po. Having stopped
at one of the public inns, she sent notice of her arrival to Father
La Combe, who had come there soon after he left Thonon. At
Verceil, La Combe was highly esteemed. God had made use of
him as an instrument, in addition to other successful labours,
in converting several of the officers and soldiers stationed at that
place, who, from being men of scandalous lives, became patterns
of piety.
With no small emotion he met Madame Guyon again. The
feeling of satisfaction, however, was mingled with the fear that
a meeting so unexpected, and to many so inexplicable, might
furnish new occasion for calumnies.
As soon as the Bishop of Verceil heard of Madame Guyon's
arrival, he sent his niece, who took her to her own house. As
soon as he conveniently could, he came himself to see her.
With some difficulty Madame Guyon conversed in Italian, and
the Bishop's knowledge of French was imperfect. The first
interview, however, was a pleasant one ; and the satisfaction
which he felt in making her acquaintance was subsequently
much increased.
" The Bishop," says Madame Guyon, " loved God ; and it
was but natural that he should love those who had similar dis
positions. He could hardly have conceived a stronger friendship
for me, if I had been his own sister. He wrote to the Bishop

OF MADAME GUYON. 259
of Marseilles to thank him for having protected me in the per
secution, and, with similar views, to Bishop Camus of Grenoble ;
and in various ways expressed his interest and the affectionate
regard he felt for me. He would not listen to my going, at
present, to see the Marchioness of Prunai, but wrote to her to
come and settle with me at Verceil. He even sent Father La
Combe to exhort her to come ; assuring her that he would
unite with some other pious persons, in a select Religious
Society or Congregation, established for permanent religious
objects. Neither the Marchioness nor her daughter, who was
consulted, disapproved of the plan ; but she was prevented by
ill health.
" I was visited," she adds, " by one of the superior officers or
rectors of the Jesuits resident at Verceil. His knowledge on
theological subjects was much greater than mine. We con
versed together on topics of this nature ; and he proposed to me
several questions which he wished me to answer. The Lord
inspired me to answer them in such a manner, that he went
away not only surprised, but apparently satisfied ; so much so
that he could not forbear speaking of it afterwards."
Soon after her arrival she was attacked with sickness. " When
the Bishop," she says, " saw me so much indisposed, he came to
see me with assiduity and charity, when at leisure. He made
me little presents of fruits and other things of that nature."
When, however, he proposed to her the matter of a permanent
residence at Verceil, she says that she had a presentiment that the
plan would not succeed, and was not what the Lord had required
of her. Still, being under great obligations to him, she thought
it best to let him take what measures he might think proper for
the present ; being assured that the Lord would know well how
to prevent arrangements which should not be in accordance with
His will. The plan was entirely frustrated, by its being ascer
tained that the air of the place was exceedingly injurious to her,
and that, in the opinion of the physicians consulted, it would
not be possible for her to remain tliere. The Bishop, although
much afflicted, did not hesitate to acquiesce, remarking that he

260 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
would much rather have her live somewhere else than die at
Verceil. Her friends decided that, considering the influence she was
capable of exercising, it was best for her to return to Paris, as
a field of labour more appropriate to the powers God had given
her, than those remote and rude villages where she had expected
to spend her days. As soon as it was settled, after suitable
deliberation and prayer, " the Lord," she says, " wrought in my
mind the conviction, that I was destined to experience yet
greater crosses than hitherto. Father La Combe had the same
convictions. Nevertheless he encouraged me to resign myself
to the Divine will, and to become a victim offered freely to new
sacrifices." During the few months' residence at Verceil, she did not
engage much in her public labours. Her health was not ade
quate to it. She continued, however, the work of writing ex
planations on the Scriptures. Her remarks on the* Apocalypse
were written at this time. She was enabled also to keep up an
extensive correspondence. At this time her correspondence
commenced with the Duchess de Chevreuse.
When Madame Guyon travelled, she was generally attended
by some ecclesiastic. That was the custom of the times for
religious persons in her situation in society. It was obviously
necessary, for the most part, that she should have some male
attendant ; and a regard to public opinion seemed to require
that he should be one who, both by profession and character,
should be above suspicion. In leaving Verceil, she selected
La Combe, in accordance with the opinion of her friends, to go
with her. There was a special reason for this selection, addi
tional to his high personal character, his ecclesiastical calling,
and the fact of his being her spiritual Director. Some arrange
ments of the Religious Order to which he belonged, which were
carried into effect by their Superintendent, required his presence
at Paris. Tho suggestion, therefore, was favourably received
by the General of the Order, as a thing not only proper in itself,
but because the expenses of his journey thither, being of course

OF MADAME GUYON. 261
paid by her, would exempt the House of that Order at Paris,
which was already poor, from an assessment to meet them. As
it was necessary, however, that La Combe should attend to some
business at the intermediate places, he set out some days before
her, and waited for her at the entrance of the passage over the
Alps, as a place where attendance and assistance would be indis
pensably necessary.
After a stay, therefore, of a few months, pleasant in every
respect with the exception of the state of her health, she set out
on her return by the usual route of Turin and Mount Cenis.
" My departure," she says, " was a season of trial to the Bishop
of Verceil. He was much affected. He caused me to be at
tended at his own expense, as far as Turin, giving me a gentle
man and one of his own ecclesiastics to accompany me."
Under these circumstances, she closed her mission abroad — a
mission not more interesting in its results than it was novel in
its nature ; and commenced her return to Paris. La Combe,
before he left, wrote a letter for her encouragement under the
trials which he foresaw ; in which he said, " Will it not be a thing
very glorious to God if He should make us serve, in the great
city of Paris, for a spectacle to angels and men?" "I de
parted," she says, "in the spirit of sacrifice; ready to offer
myself up to new varieties and kinds of suffering. All along
the road, something within me repeated the very words of St.
Paul, ' I go bound in the spirit to Jerusalem, not knowing the
things which shall befall me there, save that the Holy Ghost
witnesses, saying, that bonds and afflictions abide me ; but none
of these things move me ; neither count I my life dear unto
myself, so that I might finish my course with joy.' I found it
my duty to hold on my way, and to sacrifice myself for Him
who first sacrificed Himself for me."
In her way to Turin, she turned aside to visit the Marchioness
of Prunai. " She was extremely rejoiced," says Madame Guyon,
" to see me once more. Nothing could be more frank and
affectionate than what passed between us." Leaving with the
Marchioness her sweet words of encouragement in relation to

262 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
her benevolent labours, especially for the poor and the sick, and
bidding her, after a few days' tarrying, a final adieu, she went
on her way.
Travelling the usual route along the Doria to Susa, she met
La Combe again, at some place near the foot of the Alps.
No doubt, as she looked down from those vast heights on the
land of the Po and the Adige, she breathed forth the fervent
prayer of her heart for its spiritual renewal. This prayer con
tinually arose from her heart, for all lands and all nations : —
Ah, reign wherever man is found, A thousand sorrows pierce my bouI,
My Spouse, beloved and Divine I To think that all are not thine own ;
Then am I rich, and then abound. Ah, be adored from pole to pole ; —
When every human heart is thine. Where is thy zeal ? Arise— Be known.
At Chamberri, the principal town of Savoy, she met her half-
brother La Mothe, whom she had not seen for a number of
years. Business of an ecclesiastical nature had called him
thither at this time. The meeting was apparently cordial,
although there was too much reason to think that he was deter
mined to take a course injurious to Madame Guyon. La Combe
thought it expedient to consult one who sustained so near a rela
tion, on the propriety of the arrangement which required him
. to attend Madame Guyon to Paris ; expressing an entire will
ingness and even desire to resign his place to some other person.
La Mothe approved of the arrangement, and expressed a strong
desire that it should be carried through.
From Chamberri she proceeded to Grenoble, to which one of
the females who attended her into Italy belonged. Here she
met ber daughter, now ten years of age, and the maid-servant,
with whom she had left her. When it was understood in the
city, that she had returned, a great number of persons, whom
she had been the instrument of spiritually benefiting, visited her,
and were filled with joy at seeing her again. But their joy was
changed into sorrow, when it was understood that she must soon
leave them.
Camus, bishop of the city, manifested great kindness during
her stay. Public opinion had so much changed, that she was

OF MADAME GUYON. 263
now requested to remain, to be employed in connexion with one
of the hospitals of the city.
The Bishop wrote a letter a year or two after in her behalf,
when he had been raised to the Cardinalship, to his brother.
To Madame Guyon he wrote the following : —
" Madame, — It would give me great satisfaction if I had more
frequent opportunities of showing you how great is the interest
which I feel in your welfare both temporal and spiritual. I am
truly grateful that the suggestions I made in relation to your
spiritual concerns have been found serviceable. In respect to
your temporal affairs, I shall use my best endeavours to engage
my brother, the Lieutenant Civil of Paris, to see that entire
justice is rendered to you. Trusting that you will continue to
entertain the fullest confidence in my favourable dispositions
towards you, I remain, Madame, very truly and affectionately
yours, The Cardinal Camus."
She spent about a fortnight in Grenoble ; and then, with
Father La Combe, her daughter, and female assistants, she set
out for Paris. There is some uncertainty in the dates which
are given in this period of her life.
She arrived at Paris the 22d of July 1686, five years after'
her departure from the city.
She returned ; but not to lay down her armour and to take
her rest. She knew not what the Lord had before her, and
what He designed for her, either in doing or suffering. She
was now in the thirty-ninth year of her age ; young enough,
with God's assistance, to do effectual work in His cause, and old
enough to have gained wisdom from experience, and strength
from trial. But in every situation, she had one unalterable con
viction, which was -the true sourco of her power, that she had
nothing in herself, but all in God.

264 life and religious experience

CHAPTER XXXIII.
Domestic arrangements — Finds it necessary to form new associations — Character of them —
Duchess do Beauvilliers — DuchesB de Chevrcuse — Character of the Duke de Chevreuse —
Begins to labour in this higher class of society — Labours of La Combe — His doctrines —
Opposition against him by La Mothe — The doctrines of Michael de Molinos — The case of
La Combe brought before M. de Harlai, Archbishop of Paris; and Louis xiv. — La Combe
writes to Madame Guyon — Is sent to the Bastile — Sympathy for him by Madame Guyon
— Their correspondence.
Of the domestic history of Madame Guyon, for some years
subsequent, we know but little. She hired a house in the city ;
and once more collected her little family, consisting of her
daughter and two sons. Her reputation for piety necessarily
separated her from fashionable society.
Many of those, with whom she had been acquainted before
she left Paris, had now gone. Her own circumstances were
much altered ¦; and it was almost a matter of necessity, that the
associations which she was now called to form, would be new.
She never forgot the humble and the poor ; but the indications
of Providence seemed to call her to labour with another class of
people — a class more elevated in the view of the world, but not
easily accessible to religious influences. It is true, not " many
mighty and not many noble are called." Their position is in
some respects averse to the reception of the humbling doctrines
of the Gospel. And yet in the city of Berea there were some
"honourable women," and in Thessalonica also there were "not
a few of "tbe chief women" who believed.
Among the acquaintances which Madame Guyon formed was
the Duchess of Beauvilliers, a daughter of the great Colbert.
Inheriting no small share of her father's intellectual power, she
was one of those rare women who combine fervour of piety with
strength of intellect. By descent and marriage in an eminent
position in French society, she was still more truly eminent by
her faith in God, her alms and good works.
Tho Duchess of Chevrcuse resided a short distance out of
Paris. Madame Guyon visited her soon after her return ; and
there met a number of persons, drawn together by that instinct

OF MADAME GUYON. 265
of piety which never fails to seek the company of those who are
characterized by similar dispositions. Madame Guyon formed
a little association of ladies of rank, among whom were the
Duchess of Beauvilliers, the Duchess of Bethune, and the
Countess of Guiche, with whom she met from time to time for
religious objects. It was interesting to see some of the most
distinguished ladies of the capital of France recognising the
truths of religion, and rejoicing in the experimental power of
piety. These ladies were not ignorant of the reputation of Madame ¦,
Guyon. That which was spoken comparatively in secret was
uttered afterwards upon the house-tops. The voice which was
uttered at the foot of the Jura and the Alps, in the cottages of
the poor, and amid the solitary and inaccessible cliffs of the
Chartreuse, was repeated from province to province, till it
reached the high and public places of Paris. It was but na
tural, therefore,- that they should wish to know her. And from
this time we find her name . associated, either in union or in
_ opposition, with some of the most distinguished names of France.
The Dukes of Beauvilliers and Chevreuse, who held some of
the highest offices in the State, sympathized with their wiveB in
their religious tendencies. They formed a personal acquaintance
with Madame Guyon ; made themselves familiar with her reli
gious views and experience, and valued and sought her society.
But this could not easily have taken place, if she had jbeen a
person of inferior talent, of rude and unpolished manners, or of
doubtful piety. In the anonymous Life of Fenelon, published at
the Hague in 1723, we find the Duke of Chevreuse spoken of
in the following terms : —
" He had a rare stock of knowledge, an easy eloquence, and a
mind so fertile in resources as to be capable of remounting in
everything to the first principles, and of forming the greatest
designs. He had also the courage to execute the designs which
he formed. In his temper he was sweet and affable ; in his
manners, polite and unaffected. He was naturally a person of
great vivacity of spirit ; but had such a control of himself that

266 life and religious experience
he always appeared equal and calm. He lived in his family
with his children like a good friend, as well as a good father.
In a word, piety had united in him the virtues human and
divine, to such a degree, that he was at the same time a good
Christian, a good citizen, and a perfect friend."
Of the other, a learned writer, M. de Bausset, Bishop of Alais,
speaks as follows : — " The spirit of party may refuse to the
Duke de Beauvilliers the character of a great genius, because
his extreme modesty and his natural reserve rendered him habi
tually circumspect ; but M. de St. Simon, whom no one will
accuse of being prodigal of praise, and who lived in habits of inti
macy with the Duke de Beauvilliers, says of him that he had a
very superior mind." It was at the suggestion and request of
Beauvilliers, who had nine daughters, that Fenelon wrote his
celebrated treatise on the Education of Daughters.
These distinguished persons, who were above Madame Guyon
in worldly rank, recognising the spiritual relation which God
had established between them, were ready to take their appro
priate position in things which related to the religious life, and
to become her disciples.
Nor was it this class of persons alone who valued and sought
her society. The aged and pious Abbe de Gaumont, whose
whole life had been one of prayer, visited her house ; and among
her personal friends was a Doctor of the Sorbonne, M. Bureau,
a man distinguished for learning and piety.
In the meantime, La Combe, her spiritual Director, laboured,
in different situations and under different circumstances, to effect
the same great objects. The religious views and experience of
La Combe had become the dearer to him the longer he lived.
His efforts, originating in sincere and fervent belief, and sus
tained by a high degree of learning and eloquence, were not
without effect ; so that the poor as well as the rich — the lowly
as well as the noble — might be said to have the gospel preached
to them. This state of things could not long exist without ex
citing much attention. It soon began to be said, " Those that
have turned the world upside down have come hither also."

OF MADAME GUYON. 267
In a city like Paris, where the attention of men was continually ;
arrested, then as now, by a thousand novelties which have the
least possible connexion with religion, the impression must have
been profound and extensive, in order to have attracted so much
notice in so short a time.
They made faith the foundation of the religious life. They
did not object, it is true, to ceremonial observances and austeri
ties when carried to a certain degree ; but, on the contrary,
regarded them at times as exerting a favourable influence in
restraining the appetites, and in breaking up injurious habits.
But they did object very strenuously to any system of observances,
to any and every form and degree of labour and suffering, as
having any atoning merit, and as furnishing a justification for :
past sins ; insisting that salvation is by the cross of Christ, and
by faith alone. It was another and still greater ground of j
offence when they added, that Christ, received by faith, can save
not only from the penalty of past sins, but from the polluting
and condemning power of present sins ; that He has power not >
only to make us holy, but to keep us holy.
A little more than a year had elapsed, when La Combe was i
arrested and shut up in the Bastile. Father La Mothe was an
agent in this transaction. Jealous of the relation which La
Combe sustained with his sister as her spiritual Director, and
offended at the religious sympathy between them, he became an
enemy and a persecutor.
Madame Guyon intimates, that one cause of La Mothe's ;
jealousy, was the uncommon popularity of La Combe as a
preacher. A short time before this, the doctrines of Michael de Molinos, ,
already mentioned as a religious reformer in Italy, had been
subjected to nn ecclesiastical examination, and had been con
demned. Sixty propositions selected from his writings were
pronounced heretical. La Mothe and others took the ground,
that the sentiments of La Combe were similar to those of
Molinos, and were equally dangerous. We find in the Memoirs
of D'Angeau this remark : —

268 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
" 1685, July 10th. — I am informed that a Jesuit, named
' Molinos, has been put into the Inquisition at Rome, accused of
wishing to become the chief of the new sect called Quietists,
whose principles are somewhat similar to those of the Puritans
in England."
But Molinos went further than was common among the puri
tanical writers ; making faith the foundation not only of justifi
cation but of sanctification, and insisting also upon the entire
sanctification of the heart, resting- upon faith as its basis in dis
tinction from mere works, as the duty and privilege of every
Christian. Upon this basis, a hostile party, headed by La Mothe, com
menced and prosecuted measures against La Combe. They ap
peared before M. de Harlai, the Archbishop of Paris, a man of
great capacity and energy. The accounts given of the private
character and habits of the Archbishop are various and conflict
ing. Of his zeal there can be no doubt. He examined the
subject with a promptness and personal interest which showed
that dissenters from the established views had but little to ex
pect from him ; and having made up his mind, he laid it before
Louis XIV.
During these proceedings, attempts were made, as is usual in
such times of excitement, not only to take away the personal
liberty of La Combe, but to injure and destroy his religious and
moral character. These attempts, which involved to some ex
tent Madame Guyon, signally failed. But he knew too well the
dispositions of his opposers, and especially the exceeding jealousy
of the king in relation to everything which looked like a devia
tion from the established faith, to take much encouragement. In
a letter which he wrote to Madame Guyon at this time, he says,
" The times look heavy. The storm gathers in the sky. I know
not when the thunder which threatens me will fall. But recog
nising, as I do, the Divine will in all my trials, I am confident
that all will be welcome to me from the hand of God." Not
long after, meeting her, he said, " I feel entirely resigned to
those reproaches and ignominies which I have no doubt I am

OF MADAME GUYON. 269
about to suffer. I am desirous that you should have the same
feeling of resignation ; and it is my wish, therefore, that you
should sacrifice me to God, as I am going to sacrifice myself to
Him." Louis XIV. listened to the statements against La Combe ;
but without giving the accused an opportunity to answer them.
As he believed him to be heretical, tho well-known instrument
of tyranny, the lettre de cachet, which preceded cases of im
prisonment under such circumstances, was issued. La Combe
was suddenly arrested at dinner, on the 3d of October 1687, and
immediately shut up in the Bastile.
It was not enough to put an end to his labours as a preacher.
His work, entitled An Analysis of Mental Prayer, written origin
ally in Latin, and translated into French, was submitted to the
Inquisition at Rome, and condemned by a formal decree, Sep
tember 4, 1688. How long La Combe remained in the Bastile,
which has been well described as the " abode of broken hearts,"
is not precisely known. " In one of the dungeons of that great
prison," says Madame Guyon, " he was incarcerated for life.
But his enemies having heard that the officers of the Bastile
esteemed him and treated him kindly, they took measures to
have him removed to a much worse place." He was sent by the
direction of the king, to a place of confinement in the town of
Lourde, in the distant department of the Upper Pyrenees. He
was subsequently imprisoned in the well-known castle of Vin
cennes near Paris, and at a later period transferred to the castle
of Oleron. His imprisonments in various places extended
through twenty-seven years. Thus terminated his earthly
labours and hopes ; at least so far as they were connected with
his preaching the doctrines of faith. The only favour which
he obtained from his persecutors was that of being placed, just
before he died, in the hospital of Charenton, in the year 1714.
This was a heavy blow to Madame Guyon ; and the more so
because one of the principal instruments in it was a member of
her own family. She had known La Combe at an early period
of life ; she had been, in a very great degree, the instrument, in

270 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
God's hands, of his conversion and religious growth ; and had
seen him, in the maturity of his powers, ably defending, in his
sermons and in writings, the doctrines so dear to her. The
result of a religious devotedness so thorough and single-hearted,
was a prison, and that too without any hope of release.
Speaking of him at this time, she says, " God will reward
every one according to his works. There is something in me
which tells me that he fully recognises the will of God ; he
knows who is at the head of events, whatever may be the sub
ordinate instrumentality, and is satisfied."
And again she remarks, " One must not judge of the servants
of God by what their enemies say of them, nor by their being
oppressed under calumnies without any resource. Jesus Christ
expired under pangs. God uses the like conduct towards His
dearest servants, to render them conformable to His Son, in whom
He is always well pleased. But few place that conformity where
it ought to be. It is not in voluntary pains or austerities, but
in those which are suffered in a submission ever equal to the will
of God, in a renunciation of our whole selves ; to the end that
God may be our all in all, conducting us according to His views,
and not our own, which are generally opposite to His. In
fine, all religious perfection consists iu this entire conformity to
Jesus Christ ; not in shining and remarkable things, whatever
they may be, which men are so disposed to esteem and to publish
abroad. It will be seen only in eternity who are the true friends
of God. Nothing pleases Him but Jesus Christ, and that which
bears His mark or character."
It was not, however, in her nature, and still less in her reli
gious principles, to forget one whose piety and sufferings so justly
rendered him dear to her. At no small risk on her part, she not
only furnished him with money and books, to render his situa
tion as comfortable as possible, but continued to write to him.
At one time she was obliged to use great concealment ; and
having written him a letter without any signature, and with the
authorship concealed in other respects as much as possible, he
returned the following answer : —

OF MADAME GUYON. 271
" To Madame Guyon, — I hope my unknown correspondent,
or rather my correspondent without a name, will be assured that
I respond with all my heart to the honour which has been done
me. The letter, which came to me under such peculiar circum
stances, was not more kind than it was religiously instructive
and edifying. I rejoice, in all sincerity, in the holy friendship
which you testify for me ; and it is no small satisfaction to know
that one who thus feels for the exile and the prisoner is herself
advancing in the life and ways of God. I can truly say, it
would be difficult to increase the happiness which I feel in know
ing that the heart which dictated those consoling lines to me is
filled with a faith without fear, and a love without selfish
ness. It is such a heart which is a ' Temple of the Holy
Ghost.' " The letter is without a name, but hot without a character.
The image of its author, in its religious outlines, is too deeply
engraven upon my heart, not to be recognised. Accept, from
the shades and sorrows of my prison, my sincere and affectionate
gratitude. I look upon you as one fully united in God ; and it
is in God that my heart embraces you.
" In my present situation, correctly supposing me to be unable
to do much else for the cause we love, you propose to me to
meditate and to write. But, alas ! can the dry rock send forth
flowing fountains ? I never had much power or inclination for
such efforts ; and this seclusion from the world, this imprison
ment, these cold and insensible walls, seem to have taken from
me the power which I once had. The head, not the heart, seems
to have become withered and hard, like the rock upon which it
has leaned so many years. My harp hangs unstrung; the
sound of my viol is silent. Like the Jews of old, I sit down by
the waters of my place of exile, and hang my harp upon the
willows. It is true, there has been some mitigation of my state.
I am now permitted to go beyond the walls of my prison into the
neighbouring gardens and fields, but it is only on the condition of
my labouring there without cessation from morning till evening.
What then can I do? How can I meditate? How can I

272 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
think ? — except it be upon the manner of subduing the earth,
and of cultivating plants.
" I will add, however, that I have no choice for myself. All
my desires are summed up in one, that God may be glorified in
me. And to this end, may I be permitted once more to ask the
prayers of one who can never cease to command my highest re
spect, or my warmest Christian affections. " Francis de la Combe."

CHAPTER XXXIV.
Designs of those who had imprisoned La Combe, in relation to Madame Guyon — They pro
pose to her to reside at Montargis — She refuses — Desire of La Mothe to become her
spiritual Director — Her opposition — Tranquillity — Remarkable inward experience — Her
labours for souls, and succcsb — Conversation with La Mothe — His efforts to compel her to
leave the city — Her reply — Her case before Louis xiv. — Position of Louis — Her impri
sonment, Jan. 1688, in the Convent of St. Marie — Treatment experienced — Separation
from her daughter — Poetry. -
The objects of those who had thus put a stop to the labours
of La Combe, would not have been accomplished, if Madame
Guyon had been permitted to prosecute her labours in quiet.
She was in fact considered the head of the new spirituality ; and
it would have been hardly consistent to have prosecuted, with
so much promptness and severity, the subordinate agents, with
out especially noticing the principal. But they had no design
to involve in doubt their character for consistency; and had
already begun upon Madame Guyon their attack, before they
had completed it upon La Combe.
La Mothe knew very well how constant were her labours and
how great her influence. He seems to have taken his measures,
for the most part, in concurrence with the Archbishop of Paris,
and proposed to her, as the readiest means of quieting the ap
prehensions which existed, to take up her residence at Montargis,
the place of her birth. A proposition of this kind she could not
hesitate to refuse. What security could she have, that she, who

OF MADAME GUYON. 273
had already been hunted from Paris to Gex, and from Gex to
Thonon, and from Thonon to Grenoble and Marseilles, would
not experience at Montargis the same system of rigid scrutiny
and violent oppression ? And besides, to flee under such cir
cumstances, would have been an implied confession, either that
her conduct had been wrong, or her principles untenable.
This, however, was the first modo of attack. And it was not
difficult to foresee, if this should fail, that others would be re
sorted to.
" La Mothe," she says, " insisted on my taking himself for
my spiritual Director — a proposition to which I could not possibly
assent. Disappointed in this, he decried me wherever he went;
and wrote to others, associated with him, to do the same. These
persons wrote to me very abusive letters ; and particularly in
sisted, that if I did not place myself under his direction, I could
not fail to be ruined.
" These letters I have still by me. One Father, a member
of the Order of the Barnabites, whose dispositions were not
wholly unfavourable, advised me to take the proposed course, as
the best which could be done, and to make a virtue of necessity.
Others advised me to put myself under his direction in pretence
merely — a course entirely abhorrent to my feelings, for I could
not bear the thought of disguise or deceit. But I felt deter
mined not to hazard my liberty or peace by assenting to any
such plan.
" Amid the various trials and temptations to which I was ex
posed, I bore everything with the greatest tranquillity, without
taking any care to justify or defend myself. Having faith in
God, I left it with Him to order everything as He should see best
in regard to me. And in taking this course, He was graciously
pleased to increase the peace of my soul, while every one seemed
to cry out against me, and to look upon me as an infamous crea
ture, except those few who knew me well by a near union of
spirit. As I was once seated in a place of worship, I heard
some persons behind exclaim against me, and even some priests
say, ' It was necessary to cast me out of the Church.' At this
s

274 LIFE AND RELIOIOUS EXPERIENCE
trying time I left myself to God without any reserve; and I
did not look to earthly friendships or earthly wisdom for support.
I choge to owe everything to God, without any dependence for
help on any creature. I would not have it said, that any but
God had made Abraham rich. (Gen. xiv. 23.) To lose all for
Him is my best gain ; and to gain all without Him would bo
my worst loss."
During all this time she calmly but unremittingly laboured in
the good cause. The outcry against her was general. There
was no end to what was said of her novelties and heresies,
followed up by attacks, as ungenerous as unfounded, against her
private character. But notwithstanding this unfavourable state
of things, " God," she says, '' did not fail to make use of me to
gain many soids to Himself. He was pleased to regard me in
great kindness. In the poverty and weakness of His poor hand
maid, He gave me spiritual riches. The more persecution raged
against me, the more attentively was the word of the Lord
listened to, and the greater number of spiritual children were
given me."
Some of these persons were involved in the trials she endured.
A number were banished from the city, chiefly on the ground
of having attended religious conferences at her house or with
her. One was banished, she states, against whom nothing further
was alleged than his having made the remark, that her little
book, meaning probably her book on Prayer, was a good one.
Under these circumstances, she met one day, in one of the
churches of Paris, La Mothe, whose agency in these transactions
had been conspicuous, though partially concealed in regard to
herself under tho garb of friendship. " My sister," he said, " tho
time has come. It is necessary for you to decido to flee from
the city. There are allegations against you of such a nature,
that there seems to be no other course. You are even charged
with high crimes."
Knowing as she did that the malevolence of her enemies
would carry them to any extent, but conscious of her innocence,
she replied, " If I am guilty of the crimes which aro alleged, I

OF MADAME GUYON. 275
cannot bo too severely punished. Let punishment come. I
cannot flee, I cannot go out of the way. There are abundant
reasons why I should remain where I am. I have made an open
profession of dedicating myself to the Lord, to be His entirely.
If I have done things offensive to God, whom I would wish to
love, and whom I would wish to cause to be loved by the whole
world even at the expense of my life, I ought by my punishment
to be made an example to the world. I am innocent ; and shall
not prejudice my claims to innocence by betaking to flight."
La Mothe, who probably did not anticipate so much resolu
tion of purpose, was angry, and turned away from her with
violent threats. As her enemies had failed to banish her by
artifice, the matter was left to take the usual course. The
charges against her morals, fabrications without the slightest
foundation, were given up ; her high purity and integrity of
character were recognised ; but the excellence of her character
did not remedy or mitigate the fact of her heresy. On the con
trary, it seemed to render it the more dangerous. Accordingly,
her case came before the Archbishop of Paris, who was clear
and prompt in condemning her, and some time afterwards pub
lished an Ordinance and Pastoral Instructions to that effect ; but
he had not authority, without the king's order, to imprison her.
He accordingly demanded and obtained from the king an order
to secure her person. The charges, as they were laid before the
king, were these : — That she maintained heretical opinions ; —
That, for the purpose of inculcating these opinions, she held
private religious assemblies, contrary to the practice and rules
of the Church ; — That she had published a dangerous book, con
taining sentiments similar to those of the Spiritual Guide of
Michael de Molinos, which had been condemned by a Papal de
cree ; — And that she kept up a written correspondence with
Molinos, who was now imprisoned at Rome. It was contended,
that it was not enough merely to stop the circulation of her
writings by an ecclesiastical interdiction, but was necessary also
to restrict her person, and to imprison her.
Tired of heresy within his dominions, Louis had already

276 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
revoked the Edict of Nantes, and had sent his dragoons to the
various parts of France, for the purpose of breaking up and
dispersing the religious assemblies of the Protestants. Not
satisfied with purging France from heresies, he seems to have
thought that it would be for his glory, as the eldest son of the
Church, to do the same thing for Italy. With this feeling, he
had employed the influence of France to hasten and secure the
condemnation of Molinos.
The Pope, Innocent XL, looking upon Molinos as a truly
humble and pious man, whatever might be the errors of his
opinions, was averse to taking extreme measures. The influence
of the King of France decided the Pope to take the course
which he did. And accordingly the accusers of Madame Guyon
knew how easy it would be to excite the suspicions and the
indignation of Louis, by connecting the doctrines which she
advocated with those of Molinos. Indeed, although she had
never seen Molinos, and still less had ever corresponded with
him, it cannot be well denied that there was a similarity in their
religious views. The real objection against both was that their
doctrines, involving, as they did, a reliance upon faith in Christ
alone as the true foundation of the Christian life in all its extent,
tended to subvert some of the received ideas and practices of the
Roman Catholic Church.
Her accusers laid before Louis a letter, bearing the signature
of Madame Guyon, which contained the following passage. It
was a forged letter ; but the king was not aware of the fact at
the time : —
" I have great designs in hand. But since the imprisonment
of Father La Combe, I am not without fears that my plans may
prove abortive. I am closely watched ; and as a matter of pre
caution, I have left off holding religious meetings at my own
house ; but it is my intention to hold them in other streets and
houses." This letter, in which Louis thought ho saw the germs of
another Protestantism springing up in his own city and under
his own eye, seems to have brought him to a decision. And

OF MADAME GUYON. 277
accordingly, without further deliberation, he issued the requisite i
lettre de cachet; and Madame Guyon, although but partially
recovered from a severe sickness, was confined as a prisoner in
the Convent of St. Marie, in the suburb of St. Antoine, little
more than three months after the imprisonment of La Combe.
It is not to be supposed that this sudden change occurred
without any interest felt or any effort made in her behalf. A
number of persons, some of them of considerable standing in
society, were banished, in consequence of their sympathy in her
views and in her trials. One of these was M. Bureau, who had
visited her house a number of times with the Abbe de Gaumont.
But under a government constituted as that of France, there
was but little security for truth and justice, when powerful
influences were arrayed against them. The measures against
her were taken with so much skill and promptness, that they
entirely baffled those who were ready and willing to aid her.
"On the 29th of January 1688," she says, " I went to the Con
vent of St. Marie, which was selected because the Mother Superior
was known to be particularly zealous in the execution of the
king's orders. I received the summons which required me to go
thither, in the early part of the day. A number of hours were
allowed me, before I left my house, in which I received the calls
and sympathy of many friends. When I arrived at the convent,
I learnt that I must be shut up alone in a small chamber which
Served as my prison ; and though I was feeble, I was not
allowed a maid to render me assistance. The residents of the
convent were prepossessed with such frightful statements in
relation to me, that they looked upon me with a sort of horror.
They selected for ray jailer a nun, who, from the severity of her
character, would treat me with the greatest rigour. Certain it
is that the result verified their anticipations.
" She not only regarded me as a heretic, but obviously looked
upon me as an enthusiast, a hypocrite, and disordered in mind.
God alone knows what she made me suffer. As 6he sought to
surprise me in my words, I was very careful in all my expres
sions ; but the more careful I was, the worse it was with me.

278 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
I made more slips, and gave her more advantages over me, in
consequence of my care, besides tho anxiety necessarily occa
sioned in my own mind by it. I then left myself as I was, and
resolved, though this woman should bring me to the scaffold,
by the false reports which she was continually carrying to the
Mother Superior, that I would simply resign myself to my lot.
And thus I entered into my former peaceful condition."
Her family was again broken up. Amid various trials and
labours, she had one consolation, which she valued much ; — it
was tho society of her little daughter, now in tho twelfth year
of her age. Wherever she had travelled, and taken up her
abode, she had listened to her young voice, and found a mother's
hopes and joys some compensation for the sorrows she was not
permitted to escape. She naturally expected to be separated
from the other members of her family ; but she was desirous that
her daughter might remain with her.
" I thought," she says, " it would be consistent with the ob
jects of my imprisonment, to permit my daughter to be left with
me, and also one of my maid-servants. But in this I was dis
appointed. My daughter was most at my heart ; having cost
me much care in her education. I had endeavoured, with
Divine assistance, to eradicate her faults, and to dispose her to
have no will of her own, which is the best disposition for a child.
My heart was deeply affected when she was taken away, I knew
not whither. I requested that she might be permitted to stay
in another part of the convent, which would be some satisfaction,
although I should not see her. But this was not granted ; nor
would they allow any person to bring any news of her. So that
I was obliged to give her up, and lo sacrifice her, as it were,
as if she were mine no longer."
It would be interesting to know something more of her place
of imprisonment. It is not improbable that it was the place
which was used as the prison of the convent ; it being sometimes
necessary, in such institutions, to subdue tbe refractory members,
by keeping them shut up. It was a small room in an upper
story, entered by a single door that opened on the outside, and

OF MADAME GUYON. 279
,was secured by being locked and by a bar across it. It had
an opening to the light and air only on one side ; and this was
; so situated, that the sun shone in upon it nearly the whole day,
i which rendered it exceedingly uncomfortable in summer. Here
she was enclosed in solitary imprisonment for eight months.
Madame Guyon has not said much of the place ; and hence
we know more of the placid resignation of the prisoner than of
the prison. She herself has told it in one of her own sweet
songs, which is striking by its simplicity as well as its piety,
and which we give to the reader in a nearly literal translation : —
A LITTLE BIRD I AM.
A little bird I am. Thou hast an ear to hear ;
Shut from tho fields of air ; A heart to love and bless ;
And in my cage I Bit and sing And, though my notes were e'er so rude,
To Him who placed me there; Thou wouldst not hear the less ;
Well pleased a prisoner to be, Because thou knoweet, as they fall,
Because, my God, it pleases thee. That love, sweet love, inspires them all.
Nought have I else to do : My cage confines me round;
I sing the whole day long ; Abroad I cannot fly ;
And He, whom most I love to please, But though my wing Is closely bound,
¦ Doth listen to my song ; My heart's at liberty.
{ lie caught and bound my wandering wing, My prison walls can not control
! But still He bends to hear me sing. The flight, the freedom of the soul.
Oh '. it is good to soar
These bolts and bars abore.
To llim whoso purpose I adore,
Whose providence I love ;
I And in thy mighty will to find
The joy. the freedom of the mind.

CHAPTER XXXV.
OccupatlonB In prison— Tho history of her life— Feelings in Imprisonment— Labours and
usefulness there— Letter to a religious friend— Visited by an ecclesiastical Judge and a
Doctor of the Sorbonne— Examined— Her feelings— Poem.
Her physical constitution was feeble, but her mental purpose
was strong. Her full heart, strong in faith and love, sustained
her suffering body. It did not follow, because she was a prisoner,

280 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
that she was idle. La Combe, before he had ceased to be her
spiritual Director, had imposed on her the duty of putting in
writing the incidents of her life. She had probably made a
beginning before, but she now began this work in earnest. La
Combe had required her to be very particular ; and not suppos
ing it would be seen by many beyond the circle of her personal
friends, she was more minute than would otherwise have been
necessary. Writing, too, almost solely from memory, and under great
disadvantages, there is a want of exactness in the arrangement,
besides frequent repetitions, and it is therefore less valuable in
itself, than as furnishing materials for others.
When she first received notice that she was to be shut up, God
was pleased to give her not only entire resignation, but a trium
phant and joyful peace ; so much so, that it shone on her coun
tenance, and attracted the notice of the person who brought the
king's order, and also of her friends. The same delightful
peace continued after her imprisonment.
The doctrines of Sanctification, to which she was so much
attached, involved principles peculiarly adapted to such a situa
tion. They strike at the root of all earthly desire, as they do
of all earthly support. They annihilate times and places, pro
sperities and adversities, friendships and enmities, by making
them all equal in the will of God. So that to Joseph the prison
and tho throne are the same, to Daniel the lion's den and the
monarch's palace are the same, because they have that in their
believing and sanctified hearts, which subjects the outward to
the inward, and because the inward has become incorporated by
faith in that Eternal Will in which all things have their origin
and their end.
Her captivity was intended to be very strict ; but still persons
were allowed to see her from time to time. And few visited her
without being religiously impressed by her appearance and con
versation. Many of her poems also were written in this prison ;
and probably no period of her life was really more useful than
this.

OF MADAME GUYON. 281
The following letter illustrates the nature of her efforts by
means of correspondence, when she was not permitted to labour
in any other way : —
"Madamf,, — I can assure you, that it is a great pleasure to
me to witness the manifestations of God's mercy towards you,
and to see the progress of your soul in religion. It is my prayer,
that God may bring to a completion the work which He has
begun within you. No doubt He will, if you continue faithful.
Oh, the unspeakable happiness, Madame, of belonging to Jesus
Christ ! This is the true balm, which sweetens the pains and
sorrows that are inseparable from the present life.
" - . . You will pardon me for saying, in the first place, that
you do not appear to me to be sufficiently advanced in inward
experience, to practise silent prayer for a long time together.
... I think it would be better to combine ejaculatory prayer
with silent prayer. Let such ejaculations as the following: —
0 my God, let me be wholly thine ! — Let me love thee purely
for thyself, for thou art infinitely lovely 1 — 0 my God, be thou
my all I Let everything else be as nothing to me ; and other
short ejaculations like these be offered up from the heart. But
I think that such ejaculations should be separated from each
other, and intervened, if I may so express it, by short intervals
of silence. . . . And in this way you will be gradually forming
and strengthening the important habit of silent prayer.
" And this suggests another practical remark. When you
are reading on religious subjects, you would do well to stop now
and then for a few moments, and betake yourself to meditation
and prayer in silence ; especially when any portion of what you
read touches and affects you. The object of this is to let the
reading haVe its appropriate effect. Such reading will be very
likely to edify and nourish the soul. The soul needs nourish
ment as well as the body. Its religious state, without something
which is appropriate to its support, withers and decays.
"Do not resort to austerities or self-inflicted mortifications.
They may do for others, but not for you. Your feeble health

282 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
does not allow of it. If you had a strong and sound body, and
especially — which is the great point in connexion with physical
mortifications — if you suffered yourself to be ruled by your appe
tites, I should probably give different advice.
" But there is another mortification, Madame, which I must
earnestly recommend. Mortify whatever remains of your cor
rupt affections and your disorderly will. Mortify your peculiar
tastes, your propensities, your inclinations. Among other things,
learn to suffer with patience and resignation those frequent and
severe pains which God sees fit to impose upon you. Learn
also, from the motive of love to God, to suffer all that may
happen of contradiction, ill manners, or negligence in those who
serve you. In a word, mortify yourself by bearing at all times,
in a Christian temper, whatever thwarts the natural life, what
ever is displeasing and troublesome to the natural sensibilities ;
and thus place yourself in union and fellowship with the suffer
ings of Christ. By taking these bitter remedies, you will honour
the Cross. And especially if you mortify yourself, and die, in
your inward experience, to everything which is remarkable and
showy. Leam the great lesson of becoming a little one, of
becoming nothing. He does well who, in fasting from other
things which the appetites improperly crave, lives upon mere
bread and water ; but he does better who, in fasting from his
own desires and his own will, lives upon God's will alone. This
is what St. Paul calls the circumcision of the heart.
" I would advise you to receive the Eucharist as often as you
conveniently can. Jesus Christ, who is presented to us in that
ordinance, is the bread of life, which nourishes and quickens
our souls. I shall not fail to remember you, when I am wor
shipping before Him ; greatly desiring as I do, that He may
set up His kingdom in your heart, and may reign and rule in
you. J. M. B. de la Mothe Guyon."
Tho monotony of her prison was varied by a number of inci
dents. She had been in prison a short time, when she was
visited by Monsieur Charon, a judge of the ecclesiastical court,

OF MADAME GUYON. 283
and Monsieur Pirot, a Doctor of the Sorbonne. They came to
subject her to a formal examination, upon the results of which it
seemed probable, that the continuance of her imprisonment would
depend. With this object, although it is not improbable that
the examinations had secret reference to the treatment of La
Combe, as well as to herself, they repeated their visit four dif
ferent times. We have the substance of what occurred at these
interviews as follows : —
"Judge. — Is it true that when you went from France to
Savoy, you went with Father La Combe, and as an associate
and follower?
" Madame Guyon. — When I left France, La Combe had not
been in France for about ten years ; and therefore to have gone
with him would have been an impossibility.
'' Judge. — Was La Combe instrumental in teaching you the
doctrines of the inward life ?
" Madame Guyon. — In the principles of religion, in their ex
perimental form, I had the happiness of being taught in child
hood and early youth. I was not taught them by Father La
Combe. I first knew La Combe in the year 1671, more than
fifteen years ago, and long before I went to Savoy. He called
at my house at that time, being introduced by my half-brother,
Father La Mothe.
" Judge. — Had not La Combe some participation in the
authorship of the book entitled the Short and Easy Method of
Prayer ?
" Madame Guyon. — He had not. I wrote it in Grenoble.
La Combe was not there. I had no expectation that it would
be printed. A counsellor of Grenoble, seeing it on my table,
examined it, and thinking it would be useful, he asked my con
sent to its being published. At his suggestion I wrote a Preface,
and divided it into chapters.
" Judge. — Are we not to understand you in that book as dis
countenancing the use of the prescribed prayers of the Church,
and even of the Lord's Prayer ?
" Madame Guyon. — So far from discountenancing the use of

284 LIFE AND religious experience
the Lord's Prayer, I have explained the manner of using it to
the best effect. I have discountenanced the use of the Lord's
Prayer, and of all other prescribed priiyers, as a mere matter of
form, but for no other reason. It is not the mere repetition of
prayers which renders us acceptable to God, but the possession
of those dispositions of heart which the forms of prayer are in
tended to express.
" Judge. — I have before me a letter, addressed to Father
Francis, of the Order of Minims, in which you express your de
termination to hold religious meetings ; and that finding it
dangerous to hold them at your own house, you will hold them
in other streets and houses, but in a private manner.
"Madame Guyon. — What I have done is probably well
known. What I intend to do, is necessarily lodged in the bosom
of Him whose will is my only law. But as for that letter, it
is a forgery.
"Judge. — By whom was the letter written? And what
reason have you to think that it is a forgery ?
" Madame Guyon. — I cannot speak of its authorship with
certainty ; but I have my opinions. It was laid before our
king Louis, and had its effect in my imprisonment. I suppose
it was written by the scrivener Gautier, whose agency in these
transactions is not unknown to me. It is not in my hand
writing, as can be easily shown. Besides, it is addressed to
Father Francis, as being in Paris. It is known, and can be
proved, that he left Paris for Amiens on the 1st of September.
The letter is dated on the 30th of October. The gentleman
who has the charge of the education of my sons will aid me in
obtaining proof on these points, if you wish it.
"Judge. — I suppose you are aware that your opinions, ex
pressed in your writings and uttered on other occasions, are re
garded as heretical. I will not go into particulars. I will not
attempt to prove what has been said, either by quotations or by
facts, but should be pleased to hear what you have to say on this
charge, made in this general way.
" Madame Guyon. — To declare me a heretic, does not make

OF MADAME GUYON. 285
me one. I was born in the bosom of the Catholic Church, and
brought up in its principles, which I still love. It is hardly ne
cessary for me to say that I make no pretensions to learning ;
that I am not a Doctor of the Sorbonne ; and it is possible that
I have sometimes uttered expressions which require theological
emendation ; and so far I readily submit myself to the correction
of those who have the proper authority. I am ready to give my
life for the Church. But I wish to say that I am a Catholic in
the substance and spirit, and not merely in the form and letter.
The Catholic Church never intended that her children should
remain dead in her forms ; but that her forms should be the ex
pression of the life within them, received through faith in Christ.
In doing what I have done, I had no expectation or desire of
forming a separate parly. But I wished to see the great prin
ciples of the inward life revived. It did not occur to me, that
I was to be regarded as a heretic and separatist ; but I thought I
might be permitted, in the sphere which Providence had assigned
me, to labour for the revival of the work of God in the soul.
"Judge. — I understand that you have written commentaries
on the Scriptures. I should be glad to see them, and have the
opportunity of examining them.
" Madame Guyon. — I acknowledge that I have written such
remarks or commentaries on various parts of the Scriptures.
They are not here. I left them in the care of a person whom
I do not wish to mention at present. When I am freed from my
imprisonment, I will place them in your hands."
Such was the substance, and for the most part the precise
terms of these examinations, so far as they are briefly given by
Madame Guyon. Monsieur Charon, who felt his official respon
sibility, retired in silence. The Doctor of the Sorbonne, whose
position perhaps allowed a little more freedom, dropped a word
favourable to Madame Guyon.
Sometimes darkness and sorrow settled in what may he termed
the outside of her system, in her shattered nerves and bleeding
sensibilities ; but faith unchangeable, which always brings God
to those who have it, made light and joy in the centre. When

286 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
none came to see her with whom she might converse, she wrote ;
when tired of writing the incidents of her life, she corresponded
with her absent friends j when opportunities for doing good in
this manner did not present themselves, she solaced the hours of
solitude by writing poems. It is to this period that we are to
ascribe the origin of the little poem, beginning, Si c'est un crime
que d'aimer. The sentiment of this poem may be found in the
following stanzas : —

LOVE CONSTITUTES MY CRIME.
Love constitutes my crime ; And am I then to blame ?
For this they keep me here, He's always in my sight;
Impriaon'd thus so long a time And having once inspired the flame,
For Him I hold bo dear ; He always keeps It bright
And yet I am, as when I came. For this they smite me and reprove,
The subject of this holy flame. Because I cannot cease to love.
How can I better grow ! What power t-ball dim its ray,
How from my own heart fly ! Dropt burning from above !
Those who imprison me should know Eternal life shall ne'er decay ;
True love can never die. God is the life of love.
Tea, tread and crush it with disdain, And when its source of life is o'er.
And it will live and burn again. And only then, 'twill shine no more.

CHAPTER XXXVI.
Views in relation to the continuance of imprisonment — Inward peace and triumph — Inward
trials — Forgiveness towards her enemies — Attempts to involve her daughter in a marriage
arrangement — The King favourable, but requires Madame Guyon's consent— The subject
proposed to her by M. Charon — Her reply — Unfavourable state of things — Writes to Pens
La Ohaise — Sickness — Renewed trials — Remarks on the dispensation of the Holy Ghost —
A Poora.
" The Piioress of the Convent," says Madame Guyon, " asked
the ecclesiastical judge how the affair stood. He signified that
things were in a favourable way, and that I should be discharged
at an early period. And this became the common opinion in
relation to it. But as for myself, I had a presentiment to the
contrary. But this did not depress me. My mind was free,

OF MADAME GUYON. 287
The confinement of my body made me relish my mental liberty
the better. The satisfaction, and even joy which I had in being
a prisoner and in suffering for Christ, were inexpressible.
" The 19th of March in particular, was a memorable day,
On that day, the nun who acted as my jailer, granted me the
liberty, as a special favour, of going into the garden attached to
the Convent. In a retired part of the garden was a little Ora
tory or place of prayer, which was the more .calculated to favour
devotional feelings by having a cross planted in it, with a carved
image of the dying Saviour suspended upon it. It was there,
as I was alone in acts of worship, that God was with me, and
blessed me much. During the whole of that day, my mind
had more of heaven than of earth in it. Language cannot
express it."
On the 25th of March, she records the existence of a very
different state of mind, but perhaps not less profitable. God
was pleased on that day, and for a number of days following, to
leave her in a state of extreme destitution and depression. Her
lonely situation, her separation from her daughter, the opposition,
the apparent defeat of her plans and anticipations for the good
of souls, could not fail to be present to her thoughts. The pains
which she thus endured were probably enhanced by her physical
sufferings, from which, although we have said but little respect
ing them, she was not often exempt long together. These sug
gestions and influences were permitted to gather around her so
as to furnish occasion for temptations severe and heavy. God
saw fit, in His wisdom and goodness, that Satan should try her
once more. All human and all heavenly support, so far as it
was perceptible and consolatory, was for some days taken away.
She was in the greatest sorrow of spirit. But she believed and
was triumphant. Satan fled discomfited ; and the calm peace
and joy of her mind returned.
" I was not insensible," she Says, " to the sorrows which my
persecutors occasioned me, nor ignorant, as I think, of the spirit
by which they were actuated ; but I had no other feelings to
wards them, so far as I can judge, than those of forbearance and

288 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
kindness. The reflection, that they did only what God per
mitted them to do, which enabled me always to keep God in
sight, supported me much. When we suffer, we should always
remember that God inflicts the blow. Wicked men, it is true,
are not unfrequently His instruments; and the fact does not
diminish, but simply develops their wickedness. But when we
are so mentally disposed, that we love the strokes we suffer, re
garding them as coming from God, and as expressions of what
He sees best for us, we are then in the proper state to look for
givingly and kindly upon the subordinate instrument which He
permits to smite us."
She was not even permitted to know, for a considerable time,
where her daughter was placed. Her feelings, therefore, were
greatly tried, when she learned, after some time, that interested
individuals had got possession of her daughter's person, and were
endeavouring to induce her, left as she was without the aid and
advice of a mother, to pledge herself thus early in life to a mar
riage. In the settlement of her father's estate, a considerable
amount of property had been settled upon this child. The hope
of getting possession of this property was one of the motives in
this ungenerous movement.
This heloved daughter was the child of Madame Guyon's
religious, still more than of her natural expectations and hopes.
Much had she laboured and prayed for the renovation and spiri
tual perfection of her nature. Her sorrow, therefore, and her
trial of mind, must have been greatly increased, when she learned
that the individual thus proposed as her daughter's husband was
a man who had scarcely a tincture of Christianity, being aban
doned both in his principles of belief and in his morals.
They brought the matter before the king, who frequently took
a personal interest in the domestic arrangements of his subjects.
He expressed a desire that the proposed betrothment should take
place. He was willing, also, that his desire should have all the
influence which would naturally result from it ; but he had so
much remains of kingly pride as to insist that Madame Guyon's
consent must first be obtained.

OP MADAME GUYON. 289
The king's views and wishes were conveyed to Madame Guyon
through M. Charon, the ecclesiastical judge. A number of per
sons were present at this interview. Among others were the
Mother Superior of the convent, and the guardian to Madame
Guyon's children. Charon stated to her the arrangement pro
posed ; urged the desirableness of it ; the wishes of the king ;
and concluded with saying that, if she would consent to tho be
trothment of her daughter to the Marquis of Chanvalon, she
should be set free from prison within eight days. The reply of
Madame Guyon is worthy of notice : " God allows suffering, but
never allows wrong. I see clearly that it is His will that I
should remain in prison, and endure the pains which are con
nected with it ; and I am entirely content that it should be so.
I can never buy my liberty at the expense of sacrificing my
daughter." After this, things looked more unfavourably. Conversation,
which had predicted her speedy release, suddenly assumed a
different character. " I was now told," she says, " that my per
secutors had the upper hand ; and that they had succeeded in
convincing the king that I was guilty of everything which had
been alleged against me. And hence I naturally thought that I
must be a prisoner all the rest of my days." The influence of
the Archbishop of Paris was very great and decisive in this
matter, and was entirely against her. He declared openly, that
there was no hopo for her, except in the renouncement of her
views, and in repentance for the course she had pursued. If
she would confess herself wrong and criminal, and make
retractions and confessions, she could be freed ; otherwise
not. She was so entirely resigned to the yoke of God, whatever it
might be, that she felt afraid to shake it off by means of any
mere human instrumentality. Some of her friends could not
understand fully this entire trust in God. " A friend of mine,"
she says, " urged me to write to Father La Chaise, telling me,
that I ought not to wait for God to do everything, without doing
myself what was proper. Such a course would be tempting
T

290 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
God." Out of deference, therefore, to others, she wrote the
following letter : —
Letter to Pere La Chaise, Confessor to Louis XIV.
" Keverend Father, — It is not frequently the case, that I
bring my troubles before others. And certain I am that, on the
present occasion, if my enemies had limited their attacks to the
liberty of my person and my reputation, I should have remained
in silence. But they have not only shut me in prison, and at
tempted to blast my honour, but they have insisted that I have
failed in respect for the doctrines of the Church, and have de
nounced me as a heretic.
" Permit me to say, Eeverend Father, in soliciting your kind
ness and protection, that I ask nothing which shall be found
inconsistent with justice and the truth. The judge of the
Ecclesiastical Court has been in my prison ; and has examined
the statements and papers laid before him against me, and has
pronounced them false. But these related chiefly to my private
character. In regard to my doctrines, he required some explana
tions ; but without taking the responsibility of pronouncing
them heretical. On the contrary, he seemed rather to be satisfied
with what I said. I offered also to submit to his inspection all
my writings.
" Have I not reason, then, to think that it is something be
sides my alleged want of Catholic Orthodoxy, which keeps me
in prison ? I am willing to submit myself to a disinterested
tribunal ; but I have reason to think that my persecutors, some
of them at least, have their private aims. Private interests have
mingled in those proceedings which have brought me and which
keep me here. I think, Reverend Father, that it would be easy
for me to show by incontestable proofs, that this is the case, if
I had the opportunity to do it. How can it be otherwise, when
they come to me with menaces ? They ask my compliance and
consent in transactions which my feelings as a Christian and a
mother require me to resist ; and they threaten me with a con-

OF MADAME GUVON. 291
tinuance of my troubles, if I refuse to do what my conscience
compels me not to do.
" Your position, Reverend Father, has led me to appeal to
you. May I not ask that you will allow yourself to look into
this subject, and to be thoroughly informed in regard to it. In ¦
proclaiming the selfish ends of some of my enemies, and in
assorting my own innocence, I think I say no more than I shall
be able to make evident.
" I can only add, that I shall be extremely grateful for any
attention and aid which you may be able to render me.
" Jeanne Marie B. de la Mothe Guyon."
She says, " I never could find that the letter produced any
good effect, but rather the reverse. It was natural that La
Chaise should consult with the archbishop, who assured him
that I was very criminal. Counterfeit letters and papers also
were shown him, which had an unpropitious influence ; so that
this effort came to nothing."
A report was circulated that she was to be removed to another
place of imprisonment, and placed under the immediate inspec
tion of La Mothe, a severe man, and much incensed against her.
" Some of my friends," she says, " wept bitterly at the hearing
of it ; but such was my state of acquiescence and resignation,
that it failed to draw any tears from me. An ignominious death,
with which I have so often been threatened, makes not any
alteration in me. Sometimes the idea crosses my mind, that it
is possible, after all that has passed, that I may still be cast off
from God's presence ; but even this thought, terrible and over
whelming as it is, does not take away the deep peace and satis
faction which I feel in connexion with the fulfilment of God's
will." It was now the month of June 1688. " The air of the place,"
she says, "where I was enclosed, was so confined and heated,
that it seemed like a stove." Her feeble constitution sank under
it, and she was taken dangerously ill. The guardian, a coun
sellor in law, stated her situation to the archbishop. Harlai,

292 life and religious experience
offended at what he considered her obstinacy, received the appli
cation with indifference and almost with ridicule. " Very sick,"
he exclaimed ; " very sick indeed, I suppose, at being shut up
within four walls, after what she has done." He granted no
thing. She was favoured, however, after a time, through tho sym
pathy of those who had the immediate charge of the Convent,
with the assistance of a maid-servant, and a physician and
surgeon. It was done, it is true, in violation of the orders of
her imprisonment. But Madame Guyon remarks, " It was God
who put it into their hearts, and gave them the determination
to do it ; for had I remained as I was, without any proper
attendance, I must have died. My enemies were numerous and
clamorous. It was not merely death which was before me, but
disgrace. My friends were afraid lest I should die ; for by my
death my memory would have been covered with reproach, and
my enemies would have triumphed ; but God would not suffer
them to have that joy. After bringing me down, He was
pleased to raise me up again."
One of the charges brought against her was, that she did not
worship the Saints, and particularly the Virgin Mary. On what
principles she maintained the consistency of her Roman Catholic
profession with her refusal to worship Saints and the Virgin, is
not entirely obvious, — but undoubtedly she was able to do it to
her own satisfaction ; regarding, as she did, the Church at that
time, as being in some things perverted and in others remiss,
though not hopelessly so. She refers to the subject in the
following terms : — " One day," she says, " considering in my
mind why it was that I could not, like others, call upon any of
the saints in prayer, though closely united to them in God, the
thought occurred to me, that domestics, in other words, those in
a merely justified state, the beginners in the Christian life, the
servants rather than the sons of God, might possibly have some
need of the influence and intercession of the saints ; while the
spouse obtains everything she needs without such helps. God,
regarding such a soul as purchased by the blood of Christ, and

OF MADAME GUYON. 293
as brought into union with Himself, and sustained in union by
Christ's merits, neither seeks nor accepts any other influence, or
any other intercession. Oh 1 how little known is the holy
Author of all good ! "
Soon after her recovery from sickness, she experienced another
trial. The proposition of her daughter's betrothment was re
newed. Again a number of persons were assembled in her
room. She names Charon, Monsieur Pirot, La Mothe, and the
guardian of her children. The terms of the proposition were
the same as before ; but her answer was the same. They paid
her the compliment of saying that her treatment of them, under
circumstances so embarrassing, was characterized by the highest
propriety and courtesy.
An effort, also, was once more made to draw from her some
retraction of her opinions. " They wanted such retractions and
confessions," she says, " in order that they might serve as a
proof of my guilt to posterity. Anything of this kind, under
my own hand, would be an evidence, that they were right in
imprisoning me. And that was not all. Any such papers,
drawn up as they wished them to be drawn up, would tend to
vindicate their sullied reputation in another respect, and to con
vince the world that they had properly and justly caused the
imprisonment of Father la Combe. They went so far as to
make alluring promises on the one hand, and to use violent
threats on the other, in order to induce me to write that La
Combe was a deceiver. I answered that I was content to
suffer whatever it should please God to order or permit ; and
that I would sooner not only be imprisoned, but would rather
die upon the scaffold, than utter the falsehoods they pro
posed." " During the period," she says, " of the Old Testament dis
pensation, there were several of the Lord's martyrs who suffered
for asserting the existence of the one true God, and for trusting
in Him. Tbe doctrine of the one true God, in distinction from
the heathen doctrine of a multiplicity of gods, was the test by
which conflicting opinions were tried.

294 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
" At a later period another great truth was proclaimed, that
of Jesus Christ crucified for sinners.
" At the present time," she says, " there are those who are
martyrs of the Holy Ghost. It is the doctrine of pure love, the
doctrine of sanctification and of the Holy Ghost within us, as
the Life of our own life, which is to be the test of spiritual per
ception and fidelity in the present and in future times. The
Spirit of God, in the language of the prophet Joel, is to be
poured out upon all flesh.
" Those, who have suffered for the doctrine of Jesus Christ
crucified for the world's sins, have been truly glorious in the re
proach and sorrows they have endured ; but those who have suf
fered, and are destined to suffer, for the doctrine of the coming
and of the triumphant reign of the Holy Spirit in men's souls,
will not be less so. The doctrine of Christ crucified as an aton
ing sacrifice is essentially triumphant. Satan has ceased, in a
great degree, to exercise his power against those who receive and
believe it. But, on the contrary, he has attacked and will attack,
both in body and in spirit, those who advocate the dominion of
the Holy Spirit, and who have felt His celestial impulse and
power in their own hearts. 0 Holy Spirit, a Spirit of love 1 let
me ever be subjected to thy will ; and as a leaf is moved before
the wind, so let my soul be influenced and moved by the breath
of thy wisdom. And as the impetuous wind breaks down all
that resists it, even the towering cedars which stand in opposi
tion ; so may the Holy Ghost, operating within me, smite and
break down everything which opposes Him."
The recognition of God, as one God, gave rise to the inquiry,
— How does this one God, who in being one combines in Him
self all that is good and true, and how must He, from His very
nature, regard all sin ; and on what principles does He forgive
it ? The question is solved in the announcement of the other
doctrine to which she refers, namely, that of Christ crucified.
" Without the shedding of blood there is no remission." " He
was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniqui
ties." God not only hates sin, but He punishes it. He has no

OF MADAME GUYON. 295
more moral right or power to detach suffering from sin, than He
has to detach peace and joy from holiness. The connexion be
tween them is fixed, inseparable, and can no more change than
the Divine nature can change. Where there is sin, there must
be suffering ; and suffering flowing from sin, and in consequence
of Bin, is something more than suffering ; it is punishment.
But in the mystery of the mission, person, and sufferings of His
Son (a mystery which even the angels unavailiugly desire to
look into), God has so taken this suffering upon Himself, that,
without any violation of the claims of unchangeable rectitude,
He can now extend forgiveness to His rebellious creatures, take
them once more to His bosom, and bid them live for ever.
But there is another great truth ; — namely, that of God, in the
person of the inward Teacher and Comforter, dwelling in the
hearts of His people, and changing them by His Divine opera
tion into the holy and beautiful image of Him who shed His
blood for them. Christ, received by faith, came into the world
to save men from the penalty of sin ; but He came also to save
them from sin itself. The voice has gone forth — Put away all
sin ; Be like Christ ; Be ye holy.
We may introduce here, as illustrative further of her labours
in prison, a few passages from her letters.
EXTRACTS OF LETTERS FROM HER PRISON.
" To  . I have just received your kind letter ; and I can
assure you, that it has comforted me in my place of exile. Some
times I can apply to myself the expressions of the Psalmist :
' Woe is me that I sojourn in Mesech; that I dwell in the tents of
Kedar ; my soul hath long dwelt with him that hateth peace.'
(Ps. cxx. 5, 6.) While I am kept here by the power of my
enemies, I cannot help thinking of those who need spiritual in
struction. What a mysterious providence it is, which keeps me
out of my place of labour, out of my element ! It looks to me,
as if there were great numbers of children asking for bread, and
that there is scarcely any one to break it to them."

296 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
" To  . It is no news to you, that I am a prisoner, and
always kept under lock and key ; and that, except the woman
who has charge of the room in which I am shut up, I am not
permitted to speak to any one either within or without, unless it
be by special arrangement. I am afflicted, although I have firm
trust and rest in God. And will not one, who I know is not
indifferent to my situation, impart to me the great consolation of
knowing, that she has given her whole heart to the Saviour 1
" Oh I how sad it is to see how much opposition there is to
the religion of the heart ; I see and hear so much of it, that I
am sometimes overwhelmed and confounded, and hardly know
what I am saying or doing. I have, however, the consolation
which is given to every heart that has truly found God.
" In regard to yourself, you will permit me to say, that I some
times feel a degree of solicitude on your account. I must confess
that I have some fears, lest at your tender age you may be ex
posed to temptatious, and may turn away from God. But here,
as everywhere else, I have but one resource ; — I must resign
you into God's bauds, never ceasing to entreat Him, in the most
earnest manner, for the good of your soul. Oh 1 what a happi
ness it is to be thoroughly resigned to Providence I — a resigna
tion which constitutes the true repose of life.
" I have one word more to say. When I came here, my
daughter was taken from me. Those who took her do not allow
me to know where she is. You will permit me, if you can obtain
a knowledge of her situation, to ask your friendly interest in
her behalf. If I were a criminal condemned to death, they
could not easily give more rigorous orders concerning me."
" To  . It seems, then, that M.  , of whom we had
hoped better things, has become unstable. The temptations of
the world have shaken, and have even overcome, his religious
purposes. The more I see of the want of firmness and stability
in men, the more I am bound and fastened, as it were, to God,
who is without change.
" I must confess, if the heart of her to whom I now write,

OF MADAME GUYON. 297
were not more fully fixed in God, I should be much concerned
and grieved at it. 0 my friend I aim higher and higher. What
would I not suffer to see you wholly delivered from the inward
power of sin I Without ceasing I pray to God, that He may
deliver you from the life of self in all its forms ; that He him
self may be your way and truth and life, and that He may
establish you in tho blessedness of pure love.
" - . . . Was not our beloved Saviour looked upon and de
nounced in the same manner ? Is it a hard matter to walk in
His footsteps, and to suffer as He suffered ? When I am thinking
upon these things, I sometimes find my heart, in its perplexity,
looking up and saying, ' Judge me, 0 God ! and plead my
cause.' "
We find the following memorandum, inserted in the eighth
chapter of tbe Third Part of her Life : —
" Completed thus far, on this the 22d of August 1688. J am
now forty years of age, and in prison ; a place which I love and
cherish, as I find it sanctified by the Lord."
The following poem, selected and rearranged from a longer
one, is one of those translated by Cowper.
GOD'S GLORY AND GOODNESS.
Infinite God ! thou great, unrivall'd On© [
Whose light eclipses that of yonder sun;
Compared with thine, how dim his beauty seems
How quench'd the radiance of his golden beams I
0 God ! thy creatures in one strain agree ; —
All. in all times and places, speak of thee
Even I, with trembling heart and stammering tongue,
Attempt thy praise, and join the general song.
Almighty Former of this wondrous plan
Faintly reflected in thine image, man ;
Holy and Just 1 Tho greatness of whoso name
Fills and supports this universal frame ! —
Diffused throughout infinitude of space,
Who art thyself thino own vast dwelling-place
Soul of our soul ! whom yet no Bense of ours
Discerns, eluding our most active powers ;

298 life and religious experience
Encircling shades attend thine awful throne ;
That veil thy face, and keep thee still unknown :
Unknown, though dwelling In our Inmost part,
Lord of the thoughts, and sovereign of the heart-
Thou art my bliss ! the light hy which I move !
In thee, O God t dwells all that I can love.
Where'er I turn, I boo thy power and graco,
Which ever watch and bless our heedless raco.
Oh ! then, repeat the truth, that never tires ;
No God is like the God my soul desires ;
He, at whose voice heaven trembleB, even He,
Great as He is, knows how to stoop to me.
Vain pageantry and pomp of earth, adieu !
I have no wish, no memory for you!
Rich in God's love, I feel my noblest pride
Spring from the sense of having nought beside.

CHAPTER XXXVII.
Efforts of her friends unavailing — Madame de Miramion — Visits tho Convent — Becomes ac
quainted with Madame Guyon — Makes known her case to Madame de Malntenon. who in
tercedes with Louis xiv. — Madame Guyon released by the king's order, in October 1688 —
Resides with Madame de Miramion — Marriage of her daughter with the Count de Vaux —
Notices of his family — Resides with her daughter — Letters — A Poem.
Her prospects of an immediate releasee!, varied. Her friends
seem to have done everything which propriety would warrant.
As the ear of the king, however, was reached in other quarters,
they were not able, at present, to effect anything in her behalf.
Her imprisonment terminated in the following manner.
There was a lady in Paris, Madame de Miramion, much dis
tinguished for her piety and good works, who sometimes visited
the Convent of St. Marie. The Prioress and the Nuns gave her
a favourable account of Madame Guyon. Not satisfied, she
sought her acquaintance, and learned from her own lips those
lessons of the inward life upon which she herself had already
entered. She needed no further evidence ; but felt that her
piety rather than her crimes, had been the real source of the

OF MADAME GUYON. 299
aspersions cast upon her, and the secret cause which had brought
her to a prison.
This lady conversed with Madame de Maintenon, whose pecu
liar but influential position is well known, in relation to the cha
racter of Madame Guyon, and the treatment she had experienced.
The account, which she gave, made a favourable impression,
which was sustained and increased by Madame de Maisonfort, a
distant relative of Madame Guyon, and also by the Duchesses
Beauvilliers and Chevreuse. The influence of Madame de
Maintenon with Louis XIV., to whom she was at this time, or
at a somewhat later period, privately married, was very great,
and she now felt it her duty to exert it in favour of Madame
Guyon, as she had repeatedly done in other instances for those
who had innocently suffered. Embracing the first favourable
opportunity, she laid the subject before Louis ; but she found
his mind so fully possessed with the idea of the heresies of
Madame Guyon, that she desisted for a time.
With that clear discernment which characterized her, she
sought another and more favourable opportunity. At this time,
availing herself of all the information she had obtained, she suc
ceeded in her efforts. The king, either convinced by her state
ments, or yielding to her importunity, gave orders that Madame
Guyon should be freed from imprisonment. The information
was communicated to her by the Prioress. The guardian of her
children was present at this interesting moment. They both
testified great joy at this pleasing event. She was released early
in October 1688; having been imprisoned a little more than
eight months. »
Madame Guyon was not insensible to a change so propitious ;
and while she blessed God on her own account, she sympathized
deeply and sincerely in the joy of her friends. But her own joy
was mitigated and tranquillized by the principles of her higher
experience. Her enemies had gone just so far as God permitted.
It was God who had imprisoned her ; it was God who had given
her deliverance ; and as she entered her prison with calm peace
and joy, so she left it with the same feelings.

300 life and religious experience
From the place of her imprisonment she went to tbe house of
Madame de Miramion, who received her with a joy increased by
the fact that God had made her an instrument in the event.
She there met another distinguished lady, Madame de Mont-
chevreuil. She was once more promptly received into the dis
tinguished families with which she had been associated previously
to her imprisonment. Those who had known her and loved
her before her imprisonment, did not respect and love her the
less afterwards. In a short time she had an interview at St.
Cyr with Madame de Maintenon, who expressed in strong terms
the pleasure which she felt in seeing her at liberty ; and thus
commenced an acquaintance which had some important results.
Among the persons present at this interview were the
Duchesses Bethune, Beauvilliers, and Chevreuse, and the Prin
cess d'Harcourt ; a circumstance which indicates more distinctly
the class of society to which she was admitted, and some portion
of the field of her religious influence. She was introduced to
Madame de Maintenon by the Duchess Bethune, a lady personally
known to her from childhood, and very friendly to her.
Not long after, she had an interview with the Archbishop of
Paris, who expressed a desire, as if not altogether satisfied with
his own conduct, that she would say as little as possible of what
had taken place. The opinion had already begun to prevail,
that interested motives, as well as a regard for the Church, had
exercised a share of influence with him. His own nephew, the
Marquis of Chanvalon, had been proposed as the husband of
Mademoiselle Guyon.
As it was not convenient to re-establish her family imme
diately, she took up her residence with Madame de Miramion.
And as her imprisonment had neither broken her courage nor
perplexed her faith, she immediately resumed her labours. The
watchfulness of her opposers rendered it somewhat difficult for
her to continue her religious conferences for prayer and conver
sation ; but, too devoted and persevering to be foiled by ordinary
obstacles, 6he neither ceased to make efforts, nor did her efforts
cease to be availing.

OF MADAME GUYON. 301
At this period her labours assumed a more limited and perhaps
a more exclusive form. In the earlier periods, she had laboured
to do good in various ways. But at this time the question of a
higher inward life, the question of sanctification, was agitated
very widely, and with great interest among many persons. Per
sons in this situation especially sought the acquaintance and
assistance of Madame Guyon. And such cases had become so
much multiplied, that she now thought it her duty to give to
them her special and perhaps exclusive attention.
" What sufferings," such is the import of some remarks which
she makes, " have I not endured in labouring for the souls of
others 1 — sufferings, however, which have never broken my
courage, nor diminished my ardour. When God was pleased to
call me to Christ's mission, which is a mission of peace and love
to the sinful and the wandering, He taught me that I must be
willing to be, in some sense, a partaker in Christ's sufferings.
For this mission, God, who gives strength equal to the trials of
the day, prepared me by the crucifixion of self.
" When I first went forth, some supposed that I was called
to the work of gaining exterior proselytes to the Church. But
it was not so. I had a higher calling. It was not a calling to
build up a party, but to glorify God ; it was not a designation
to make Catholics, but to lead persons, with God's assistance,
to a knowledge of Christ.
" And now I think I can say further, that God does not so
much design me, in my labours hereafter, for the first conversion
of sinners, as to lead those who are already beginners in the
Christian life, into what may be perhaps called a perfect con
version." She remained at the house of Madame de Miramion, as nearly
as can now bo ascertained, till the early part of the year 1690.
At this time her daughter was married lo Louis Nicholas Fou-
quet, Count de Vaux. She had formed an acquaintance with
him at the residences of some of her distinguished friends ; and
such was the favourable impression she received of his character
and morals, that she thought her daughter might be safely in-

302 life and religious experience
trusted to his hands. They were married at the house of Madame
de Miramion, who sympathized with Madame Guyon in an event
of so much interest. As her daughter was quite young, being
scarcely in her fifteenth year, she thought she consulted her
duty, as well as her personal happiness, in leaving her present
residence, and in residing with her a little distance out of the
city. Of the family and personal history of the Count de Vaux we
know but little. He was connected, however, with the family
of the Duchess of Charost. His father was Nicholas Fouquet,
Marquis of Belle-Isle ; a man of distinguished ability, who at
the early age of thirty-eight held the important post of Superin
tendent of the Finances of France. Falling for some reasons,
public and private, under the displeasure of his monarch, he was
arrested, tried, and condemned to perpetual banishment. This
was afterwards exchanged for imprisonment in the citadel of
Pignerol. The common statement is, that he died in this citadel
in 1680. But Voltaire, who has given a few interesting parti
culars of him, says that he was assured by his daughter-in-law,
the Countess de Vaux, that he was released before his death,
and permitted to retire to an estate belonging to his wife. Of
his wife, who was a woman of piety, and of merit, in other re
spects, we have a short notice in Dangeau.
Fouquet, it seems, had resided for some time at Vaux, where,
in the days of his prosperity, he had large possessions, and had
built a splendid palace. Madame Guyon became acquainted
with Monsieur Fouquet, uncle of her son-in-law, who subse
quently showed her various acts of kindness, and with whom
she kept up a correspondence by letter. He was not more dis
tinguished by his position than for his ardent piety. Under
standing Madame Guyon's views fully, he approved and de
fended them ; and may be said not only to have lived in them,
but to have died in them. We shall have occasion to refer to
him again.
Of the surviving sons of Madame Guyon, the eldest, Armand
Jacques Guyon, settled at Blois. The second received, about

OF MADAME GUYON. 303
this time, an appointment as an officer in the French Guards ;
so that there was less necessity than there had formerly been
for her keeping up a separate family establishment.
The following is extracted from one of her letters : —
TO ONE WHO HAD THE CARE OF SOULS.
" Sir, — The great thing to be kept in view by religious pastors
at the present time, is the distinction between outward or cere
monial religion, and inward religion or that of the heart. Re
ligion, in its full development, is the same thing with the inward
kingdom or the reign of God in the soul. And certain it is,
that this inward or spiritual reign can never be established by
outward ceremonies and observances alone.
" It can be nothing new to you, sir, when I remark, that the
religion of tho primitive disciples of Christ was characterized by
being inward. It was the religion of the soul. The Saviour
made an announcement of unspeakable importance, when He
said, — 'It is expedient for you that I go away ; for if I go not
away, the Comforter will not come unto you.' He seems to have
intended by this announcement, in part at least, to turn their
attention from outward things, and to prepare their hearts to
receive the fulness of the Holy Spirit, which He looked upon as
the one thing necessary.
" The form is merely the sign of the thing. I may, perhaps,
give offence in saying it, and am certainly liable to be misunder
stood ; but still it seems to me, that there may even be such a
thing as outward praying, or praying in the form without the
spirit. It is true the Saviour gave a form of prayer, which is a
very wonderful one. Nevertheless, He rebukes long and osten
tatious prayers, and disapproves of frequent repetitions. He tells
the disciples, that they are not heard for their much speaking ;
and assigns as a reason, that their heavenly Father knows what
they want before they ask Him. He says, ' When thou prayest,
enter into thy closet, and pray to thy Father who seeth in secret,
and thy Father who seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.'

304 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
" Oh, sir 1 how much it is to be desired, that all persons,
getting beyond mere outward supports, may have their life from
God and in God ! Such a day will certainly come to pass. We
see already some evidences of its approach in the lives of those
who, in having no will but Christ's will, live by faith ; whose
whole joy is in having dispositions that ar&from God and with
God ; and who regard all outward things as the mere transient
signs and incidents, and not the reality of life.
" It is with earnestness, therefore, that I conjure you, sir, to
aid souls to the utmost of your power, in their spiritual progress ;
so that they may not stop short of God's inward reign. The
subjection of human selfishness by holy love, and the subjection
of the human will by union with the Divine will, may be said
to make Christ within us. Christ will come visibly in the clouds
of heaven. But in the spiritual sense, and in some respects in
the more important sense, He may come now ; He may come
to-day. Oh I let us labour for His present coming ; not for a
Christ in the clouds, but for a Christ in the affections ; not for
a Christ seen, but for a Christ felt ; not for a Christ outwardly
represented, but for a Christ inwardly realized. ' Thou sendest
forth thy Spirit, they are created ; and thou renewest the face
of the earth.' (Ps. civ. 30.)
" On this subject it is difficult for me to express my feelings,
so strong are the desires which exist in me. When will men
renounce themselves that they may find God ? Willingly, full
willingly, I would shed my blood, I would lay down my life, if
I could see the world seeking and bearing Christ's holy image.
— I remain yours in our Lord,
" Jeanne Marie B. de la Mothe Guyon."
Sho had a brother, Gregory de la Mothe, apparently a sincere
and pious man, connected with tho Carthusians. To him she
writes : — to m. gkegoire bouvieues de la mothe.
" My dear Bkotiiek, — It is always with tho greatest pleasure
that I receive any tidings from you ; but your last letter gave

OF MADAME GUYON. 305
me more satisfaction than any previous ones. You are the only
surviving member of our family who appears to understand the
dealings of God with me, and to appreciate my situation. I
receive your letter as a testimonial of Christian union and
sympathy. " The Lord has seen fit to bless me much in the labours for
a revival of inward roligion, especially in Grenoble, where the
work was very wonderful.
" I speak to you, my dear brother, without reserve. And, in
the first place, my soul, as it seems to me, is united to God in
such a manner that my own will is entirely lost in the Divine
will. I live, therefore, as well as I can express it, out of myself
and all other creatures, in union with God, because in union
with His will. ... It is thus that God, by His sanctifying grace,
has become to me All in all. The self which once troubled
me is taken away, and I find it no more. And thus God, being
made known in things or events, which is the only way in which
the I Am, or Infinite Existence, can be made known, everything
becomes, in a certain sense, God to me. I find God in every
thing which is, and in everything which comes to pass. The
creature is nothing ; God is All.
" And if you ask why it is that the Lord has seen fit to bless
me in my labours, it is because He has first, by taking away my
own will, made me a nothing. And in recognising the hand of
the Lord, I think I may well speak of God's agency physically
as well as mentally ; since He has sustained me in my poor
state of health and in my physical weakness. Weak as I have
been, He has enabled me to talk in the day, and to write in the
night. " After the labours of the day, I have, for some time past,
spent a portion of the night in writing commentaries on the
Scriptures. I began this at Grenoble ; and though my labours
were many and my health was poor, the Lord enabled me, in
the course of six months, to write on all the books of the Old
Testament. " I am willing, in this as in other things, to commit all to
u

306 life and religious experience
God, both in doing and suffering. To my mind it is the height
of blessedness to cease from our own action, in order that God
may act in us.
" And this statement, my dear brother, expresses my own
condition, as it is my prayer that it may express yours.
" In such a state, riches and poverty, and sorrow and joy,
and life and death, are the same. In such a state is the true
heavenly rest, the true Paradise of the spirit.
" In the hope and prayer that we may always be thus in the
Lord, I remain, in love, your sister,
" Jeanne Marie B. de la Mothe Guyon.
" Dec. 12, 1689."
GOD THE FOUNTAIN OF LOVE TO HIS CHILDREN.
[From her Poems, Churchill's Edition.]
I love my God, but with no love of mine.
For I have none to give ;
I love thee, Lord ; but all the love is thine,
For by thy love I live.
I am as nothing, and rejoice Co be
Emptied, and lost, and swallow'd up in thee.
Thou, Lord, alone, art all thy children need,
And there is none beside ;
From thee the streams of blessedness proceed ;
In thee the bless' d abide.
Fountain of life, and all-abounding grace,
Our source, our centre, and our dwelling-place.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
Ffinelon — Character — Early designs — Interesting letter— Sent by Louis xiv. as a missionary
to Foitou — Learns something of tho religious labours of Madame Guyon — On his return,
in 1C88, passes through Montargis, and makes inquiries — Meets hur for the first time at
the country residence of tho Duchess of Charost, at Heine — They return to Purls together
— Letters.
At this period, Madame Guyon's history becomes interwoven
with that of Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambray, in a remarkable

OF MADAME GUYON. 307
manner. The remarks, however, of the Chancellor D'Agues- !
seau on Fenelon, in the Memoirs of the Life of his Father, seem
to me so striking as well as just, that I am tempted to quote
them here.
" Fenelon," says the Chancellor, " was one of those uncom
mon men who are destined to give lustre to their age ; and who
do equal honour to human nature by their virtues, and to litera
ture by their superior talents. He was affable in his deportment,
and luminous in his discourse ; the peculiar qualities of which
were a rich, delicate, and powerful imagination; but which
never let its power be felt. His eloquence had more of mild
ness in it than of vehemence ; and he triumphed as much by1
the charms of his conversation as by the superiority of his
talents. He always brought himself to the level of his company ;
he nover entered into disputation ; and he sometimes appeared
to yield to others at the very time that lie was leading them.
Grace dwelt upon his lips. He discussed the greatest subjects
with facility ; the most trifling were ennobled by his pen ; and
upon the most barren he scattered the flowers of rhetoric. The
peculiar, but unaffected mode of expression which he adopted,
made many persons believe that he possessed universal know
ledge, as if by inspiration. It might, indeed, have been almost
said, that he rather invented what he knew than learned it. He
was always original and creative ; imitating no one, and himself
inimitable. A noble singularity pervaded his whole person ;
and a certain undefinable and sublime simplicity gave to his
appearance the air of a prophet."
The' account which is given of him by his contemporary, the
Duke de St. Simon, is also striking. " Fenelon," says St.
Simon, " was a tall man, thin, well made, and with a large
nose. From his eyes issued the fire and animation of his mind
like a torrent ; and his countenance was such that I never yet
beheld any one similar to it, nor could it ever be forgotten if
once seen. It combined everything, and yet with everything
in harmony ; it was grave, and yet alluring ; it was solemn,
and yet gay ; it bespoke equally the theologian, the bishop, and

308 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
the nobleman. Everything which was visible in it, as well as
in his whole person, was delicate, intellectual, graceful, becom
ing, and, above all, noble. It required an effort to cease looking
at him. All the portraits are strong resemblances, though they
have not caught that harmony which was so striking in the
original, and that individual delicacy which characterized each
feature. His manners were answerable to his countenance.
They had that air of ease and urbanity, which can be derived
only from intercourse with the best society, and which diffused
itself over all his discourse."
Fenelon, who added ardent piety to the highest order of
talents, and to the graces of expression and manner, had formed
the purpose to live and act solely for the cause of God. His
first plan was to go as a missionary to Canada, at that time
under France, and one which could not possibly furnish any
attractions to a person of his turn of mind, separate from reli
gion. In the simplicity and love of his heart, he was willing
to spend the splendid powers which God had given him, in
instructing a few ignorant savages in the way of life.
Disappointed in this, he next turned his attention to Greece ;
and he indulged the hope that he might be permitted to preach
the gospel in a land which could not fail to be endeared to him
by many classical and historical recollections. There is a letter
extant, written at this time, which would be interesting if in no
other light than as a memorial of the youthful Fenelon, in which
the warmth of his heart blends with the vividness of his imagi
nation. It is dated at Sarlat, and was probably addressed to
Bossuet. The following is a part of it : —
" Several trifling events have hitherto prevented my return
to Paris ; but I shall at length set out, sir, and I shall almost
fly thither. But, compared with this journey, I meditate a
much greater one. The whole of Greece opens before me, and
the Sultan flies in terror ; — the Peloponnesus breathes again in
liberty, and the Church of Corinth shall flourish once more ; —
the voice of the apostle shall be heard there again. I seem to
be transported among those enchanting places and those inesti-

OF MADAME GUYON. 309
mable ruins, where, while I collect the most curious relics of
antiquity, I imbibe also its spirit. I seek for the Areopagus,
where St. Paul declared to the sages of the world the unknown
God. I kneel down, 0 happy Patmos ! upon thy earth, and
kiss the steps of the apostle ; and I shall almost believe that the
heavens are opening on my sight. Once more, after a night of
such long darkness, the dayspring dawns in Asia. I behold the
land which has been sanctified hy the steps of Jesus, and crim
soned with His blood. I see it delivered from its profaneness,
and clothed anew in glory. The children of Abraham are once
more assembling together from the four quarters of the earth,
over which they have been scattered, to acknowledge Christ
whom they pierced, and to show forth the Lord's resurrection to
the end of time."
In this plan also he was disappointed. There was work for
him in France.
It was a part of the system of Louis XIV. to establish uni- ¦
formity of religion ; and he had. the sagacity to see, that, in
carrying out this difficult plan, he needed the aid of distinguished
men. As a preliminary step, Louis had revoked the edict of
Nantes. This edict, promulgated in 1598 by Henry IV., em
bodied principles of toleration, which furnished for many years
a considerable degree of protection to the French Protestants.
Intoxicated with power, and ignorant of that sacred regard
which man owes to the religious rights and principles of his
fellow-man, he had commenced, previously to its revocation,
a series of hostile acts, entirely inconsistent with the terms and
principles of the edict of Henry. The sword was drawn in
aid of the Church ; blood had already been shed in some
places ; and it is stated that, soon after the revocation of the
protecting edict, no less than fifty thousand families, holding
their religion more precious to them than worldly prosperity,
left France.
So desirous was the French monarch of making the Roman
Catholic the exclusive religion of his kingdom, that he united
together different and discordant systems of proselytism, and

310 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
j added the milder methods of persuasion to the argument of the
sword. There were men among the Protestants who could never
be terrified, but might possibly be convinced. And knowing
their tenacity of opinion, if not the actual strength of their
theological position, he was desirous of sending religious teachers
among them, who were distinguished for their ability, mildness,
and prudence. Under these circumstances, he cast his eye upon
the Abb6 de Fenelon.
The young Abbe waited upon the king. He received from
' the monarch's lips the commission which indicated the field and
the nature of his labours. The labour assigned him was the
difficult one of showing to the Protestants, whose property had
been pillaged, whose families had been scattered, and blood shed
like water, the truth and excellencies of the religion of their
persecutors. Fenelon, who understood the imperious disposition
of Louis, and at the same time felt an instinctive aversion to
the violent course he was pursuing, saw the difficulty of his posi
tion. He consented, however, to undertake this trying and
almost hopeless embassy on one condition only ; — namely, that
the armed force should be removed from the province to which
he should be sent as a missionary, and that military coercion
should cease.
In Poitou, which Louis had assigned him as the field of his
missionary labours, Fenelon first heard of Madame Guyon. He
beoame acquainted with the remarkable story of her missionary
labours, of her writings on religion and religious experience, and
of the high and somewhat peculiar character of her piety. His
desire to know something more of this woman had not ceased
when, after nearly a three years' residence, he completed the
labours of his mission to Poitou, in which he had secured
the respect and affection of those from whom he differed in
opinion. On his return, in the latter part of 1688, he passed through
Montargis, the early scene of Madame Guyon's life. Thinking
it proper to learn all that he conveniently could of her charac
ter, before he formed that more intimate acquaintance which he

OF MADAME GUYON. 311
evidently designed after his return to Paris, he made all the
inquiries necessary. " Questioning several persons respecting
her," says M. do Bausset, " who had witnessed her conduct dur
ing her early years, and while she was married, he was interested
by the unanimous testimonies which he heard of her piety and
goodness." At Paris, he learned more distinctly the facts which had
reached him in the distant field of his missionary labours. He
learned also, that she was in disgrace with the monarch. Had
Fenelon, knowing as he did the jealous and imperious tendencies
of the mind of Louis, consulted merely worldly interest, he would
have avoided her. But, following the suggestions of his own
benevolent heart, and of that silent voice which God utters in
the souls of those who love Him, he did otherwise.
Fenelon met Madame Guyon, for the first time, at the house ;
of the Duchess of Charost, who had a retired establishment at
the village of Beine, a few miles beyond Versailles and St. Cyr,
where Madame Guyon made frequent visits.
It would somewhat save appearances, therefore, if Fenelon
could meet her here. And accordingly, their meeting at this
place seems to have been the result of a private arrangement.
They conversed together at much length, not on worldly sub
jects, for that was foreign to their feelings ; not on the external
arrangements and progress of the Church, for that was a subject
which had been familiar to them from childhood ; but on a sub
ject vastly more important than either, that of inward religion.
The immense importance of the subject, the correspondence be
tween the doctrines of a transforming and sanctifying spirituality
and the deeply felt needs of his own soul, the presence and fervid
eloquence of a woman, whose rank, beauty, and afflictions could
not fail to excite an interest exceeded only by that of her evan
gelical simplicity and sanctity, made a deep impression on the
tnind of Fenelon.
After spending a part of the day, they both returned to Paris ;
in the same carriage, accompanied by a young female attendant,
whom Madame Guyon kept with her ; which gave them still

312 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
, farther opportunity to prosecute this conversation, and to explain
more particularly her views of religious experience and growth.
From that time they were intimate friends.
" Some days after my release from prison," she says, " having
heard of the Abbe de Fenelon, my mind was taken up with
him with much force and sweetness. It seemed to me, that the
Lord would make me an instrument of spiritual good to him ;
and that, in the experience of a common spiritual advancement,
He would unite us together in a very intimate manner. I in
wardly felt, however, that this interview, without failing to
increase his interest in the subject of the Interior Life, did not
fully satisfy him. And I, on my part, experienced something
which 'made me desire to pour out my heart more fully into his.
But there was not as yet an entire correspondence in our views
and experience, which made me suffer much on his account.
" It was in the early part of the next day that I saw him
again, (at the house of the Duchess of Bethune.) My soul de
sired that he might be all that the Lord would have him to be.
We remained together for some time in silent prayer ; and not
without a spiritual blessing. The obscurity which had hitherto
rested upon his spiritual views and exercises began to disappear ;
but still he was not yet such as I desired him to be. During
eight whole days he rested as a burden on my spirit. During
that time my soul suffered and wrestled for him ; and then, the
agony of my spirit passing away, I found inward rest. Since
that time, looking upon him as one wholly given to the Lord,
I have felt myself united to him without any obstacle. And our
union of spirit with each other has increased ever since, after a
manner pure and ineffable. My soul has seemed to be united
to his in the bond of Divine love, as was that of Jonathan to
David. The Lord has given me a view of the great designs He
has upon this person, and how dear he is to Him."
The following letter appears to have been the first that passed
between them : — " Paris, November 1688.
" To the Abbe de Fenelon, — I take the liberty to send you

OF MADAME GUYON. 313
some of my writings. It is my desire that yon should act the
part of a censor in regard to them. Mark with your disapproval
everything in them which comes from tho imperfections of the
creature rather than from the Spirit of God. I have other writ
ings, which, if I did not fear to fatigue you, it would please
me much to bring under your notice, to be preserved or to be
destroyed as you might think them worthy of preservation or
otherwise. If I should learn that you do not consider those
which are now sent as unworthy of your attention, I may send
the others at some future time. As I send them in the spirit
of submission to your theological and critical judgment, and
with entire sincerity, I count upon it that you will spare nothing
which ought not to be spared. When you shall have read the
sheets which I have sent to you, you will do me a favour by
returning them with your corrections.
" Permit me to expect that you will deal with me without
ceremony. Have no regard to me, separate from what is due
to truth and to God's glory. God has given me great confidence
in you ; but He does not allow me to cause you trouble. And
you will tell me frankly when I do so. I am ready to keep up
some correspondence with you. If God inspires you with dif
ferent views, let me know without hesitation. I readily submit
myself to you. I have already followed your advice in the
matter of confession.
" And now I will turn to another subject. For seven days
past I have been in a state of continual prayer for you. I call
it prayer, although the state of mind has been somewhat pecu
liar. I have desired nothing in particular ; have asked nothing
in particular. But my soul, presenting continually its object
before God, that God's will might be accomplished and God's
glory might be manifested in it, has been like a lamp that burns
without "ceasing. Such was the prayer of Jesus Christ. Such
is the prayer of the Seven Spirits who stand before God's throne^
and who are well compared to seven lamps that burn night and
day. It seems to me that the designs of mercy, which God has
upon you, are not yet accomplished. Your soul is not yet'

314 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
brought into full harmony with God, and therefore I suffer.
My suffering is great. My prayer is not yet heard.
"The prayer which I offer for you is not the work of the
creature. It is not a prayer self-made, formal, and outward. It is
the voice of the Holy Ghost uttering itself in the soul, an inward
burden which man cannot prevent nor control. The Holy Ghost
prays with effect. When this inward voice ceases, it is a sign
that the grace which has been supplicated is sent down. I have
been in this state of mind before for other souls, but never with
such struggle of spirit, and never for so long a time. God's de
signs will be accomplished upon you. I speak with confidence ;
but I think it cannot be otherwise. You may delay the result
by resistance ; but you cannot hinder it. Opposition to God,
who comes to reclaim the full dominion of the heart, can have
no other effect than to increase and prolong the inward suffering.
Pardon the Christian plainness with which I express myself.
J. M. B. de la Mothe Guyon."
They had opportunities of seeing each other both at Paris
and Versailles. But still it was not convenient, and perhaps not
proper, that they should see each other very often. But the
deep interest felt by Madame Guyon, and the many questions
which Fenelon found it necessary to propose to her higher ex
perience, rendered it necessary that they should correspond.
The very next day she wrote another letter, which we give in
part : — " Paris, November 1688.
" To the Abb£ de Fenelon, — So deeply absorbing has been
the application of my soul to God on your .account, that I have
slept but little during the past night. And at this moment I
can give an idea of my state only by saying, that my spirit, in
the interest which it feels for your entire renovation, burns and
consumes itself within me.
" I have an inward conviction, that the obstacle, which has
hitherto separated you from God, is diminishing and passing
away. Certain it is, that my soul begins to feel a spiritual like-

OF MADAME GUYON. 315
ness and union with yours, which it has not previously felt.
God appears to be making me a medium of communicating
good to yourself, and to be imparting to my soul graces which
are ultimately destined to reach and to bless yours. It may not
be improper to say, however, that while He is blessing and
raising you in one direction, He seems to be doing that which
may be the means of profitable humiliation in another, by
making a woman, and one so unworthy as myself, the channel
of communicating His favours. But I too must be willing to be
where God has placed me, and not refuse to be an instrument
in His hands. He assigns me my work. And my work is to be
an instrument. And it is because I am an instrument, which
He employs as He pleases, that He will not let me go. Never
theless, He makes me happy in being His prisoner. He holds
me incessantly, and still more strongly than ever, in His pre
sence. And my business there is to present you before Him,
that His will may be accomplished in you. And I cannot
doubt, that the will of God is showing itself in mercy, and that
you are entering into union with Him, because I find that my
own soul, which has already experienced this union, is entering
into union with you through Him ; and in such a manner as no
one can well explain, who has not had the experience of it. . . .
So easy, so natural, so prompt are the decisions of the sanctified
soul on all moral and religious subjects, that it seems to reach
its conclusions intuitively. . . .
Be so humble and childlike as to submit to the dishonour, if
such it may be called, of receiving blessings from God through
one so poor and unworthy as myself; and thus, the grace which
God has imparted to my own heart flowing instrumentally into
yours, and producing a similarity of dispositions, our souls shall
become like two rivers, mingling in one channel, and flowing on
together to the ocean. Receive, then, the prayer of this poor
heart, since God wills it to be so. The pride of nature, in one
in your situation, will cry out against it ; but remember that
the grace of God is magnified through the weakness of the in
strumentality He employs. Accept this method in entire con-f

316 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
tentment and abandonment of spirit, (as I have no doubt that
you will,) simply because God wills it. And be entirely assured,
that God will bless His own instrumentality, in granting every
thing which will be necessary to you.
" I close by repeating the deep sympathy and correspondence
of spirit which I have with you.
"Jeanne Marie B. de la Mothe Guyon."

CHAPTER XXXIX.
Religious state of Fenelon — Entire consecration to God — Perplexities — Correspondence with
Madame Guyon — Interesting letter in answer to one from ber — On the successive steps of
inward crucifixion — Of unfavourable babits of the will, and the necessity of correcting
them— Of the principle of faith in its relation to reason.
Those who are acquainted with the personal history of Fene
lon, know how fully he combined greatness of intellect with
humility and benevolence of temper ; so that it was not difficult
for him to associate with others, or even to receive instruction
. in those particulars in which his own experience was defective*
And accordingly he did not hesitate to state frankly those points
in which he needed advice. He was already a religious man in
a high sense ; but still it seemed to him that he was not all
that he ought to be, and not all that with Divine aid he could
be. He panted for higher advancements. He could not rest,
until, in the possession of victory over the natural evils of the
heart, he had become one with God in freedom from selfishness,
and in purity and perfectness of love.
The first struggle of his mind seemed to turn upon the point,
'whether he should make to God that entire and absolute conse
cration of himself in all things, without which it is impossible
that those higher results should be realized, to which his mind
was now directed.
Having taken this first and great step, he awaited the dealings
of God with submission, but not without some degree of per
plexity. The way was new ; and it. baffled in his case, as it

OF MADAME GUYON. 317
generally does in others, all the conjectures of merely human
wisdom. The matter of forgiveness through Jesus Christ, as our
Saviour, from the penalty of the violated law, was easily under-
Stood ; but that of holy living, that of being kept moment by
moment, in distinction from forgiveness in the first instance,
presented itself as a problem attended with different incidents,
and perhaps involving new principles. For two years they kept
up a frequent intercourse by letter— in which it is easy to see
her untiring patience and her deep religious insight. It was
hard for him at first to understand, and to realize in practice,
the great lesson of living by faith alorie. Even at the end of
some six or eight months after their correspondence commenced,
be had questions to propose, and difficulties to be resolved.
In this state of things she wrote him a long letter, in which
she gives a general view of the process in which the soul, that
is entirely consecrated to God, undergoes the successive steps
of inward crucifixion and of progressive conformity, until it
realizes the highest results. She took great pains with it. It
is entitled, A Concise View of the Soul's Return to God, and of
its Re-union with Him.
To this we find a well-digested answer, at some length, from
Fenelon, of which the following is a summary : —
" [Paris,] Aug. 11, 1689.
" To Madame de la Mothe Guyon, — I think, Madame, that
I understand, in general, the statements in the paper which you
had the kindness to send to me ; in which you describe the
various experiences which characterize the soul's return to God
by means of simple or pure faith. I will endeavour, however,
to recapitulate some of your views, as they present themselves
to me, that I may learn whether I correctly understand them.
" I. The first step which is taken by the soul that has formally
and permanently given itself to God, would be to bring what
may be called it's external powers — that is, its natural appetites
and propensities, under subjection. The religious state of the
soul at such times is characterized by that simplicity which

318 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
shows its sincerity, and that it is sustained by faith. So that
the soul does not act of itself alone, but follows and co-operates,
with all its power, with that grace which is given it. It gains
the victory through faith.
" II. The second step is to cease to rest on the pleasures of
inward sensibility. The struggle here is, in general, more
severe and prolonged. It is hard to die to these inward tastes
and relishes, which make us feel so happy, and which God usu
ally permits us to enjoy and to rest upon in our first experience.
When we lose our inward happiness, we are very apt to think
that we lose God ; not considering that the moral life of the
soul does not consist in pleasure, but in union with God's will,
whatever that may be. The victory here also is by faith ;
acting, however, in a little different way.
" III. Another step is that of entire crucifixion to any reliance
upon our virtues, either outward or inward. The habits of the
life of self have become so strong, that there is hardly anything
in which we do not take a degree of complacency. Having
gained the victory over its senses, and having gained so much
strength that it can live by faith, independently of inward
pleasurable excitements, the soul begins to take a degree of
satisfaction, which is secretly a 6elfish one, in its virtues, in its
truth, temperance, faith, benevolence, and to rest in them as if
they were its own, and as if they gave it a claim of acceptance
on the ground of its merit. We are to be dead to them, con
sidered as coming from ourselves ; and alive to them only as
the gifts and the power of God. We are to have no perception
or life in them, in the sense of taking a secret satisfaction in
them ; and are to take satisfaction in the Giver of them only.
" IV. A fourth step consists in a cessation or death to that
repugnance which men naturally feel to those dealings of God
which are involved in the process of inward crucifixion. The
blows which God sends upon us are received without the oppo
sition which once existed, and existed oftentimes with great
power. So clear is the soul's perception of God's presence in
everything ; so strong is its faith, that those apparently adverse

OF MADAME GUYON. 319
dealings, once exceedingly trying, are 'now received not merely
with acquiescence, but with cheerfulness. It kisses the hand
that smites it.
" V. When we have proceeded so far, the natural man is
dead. And then comes, as a fifth step in this process, the new
life ; not merely the beginning, but a new life in the higher sense
of the terms, the resurrection of the life of love. All those gifts
which the soul before sought in its own strength, and perverted
and rendered poisonous and destructive to itself, by thus seeking
them out of God, are now richly and fully returned to it, by the
great Giver of all things. It is not the design or plan of God
to deprive His creatures of happiness, but only to pour the cup
of bitterness into all that happiness, and to smite all that joy
and prosperity which the creature has in anything out of
himself. " VI. And this life, in tho sixth place, becomes a truly trans*
formed life, a life in union with God, when the will of the soul
becomes not only conformed to God practically and in fact, but
is conformed to Him in everything in it, and in the relations it
sustains, which may be called a disposition or tendency. It is
then that there is such a harmony between the human and
Divine will, that they may properly be regarded as having be
come one. This, I suppose, was the state of St. Paul, when
he says, ' / live ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.'
" It is not enough to be merely passive under God's dealings.
The spirit of entire submission is a great grace ; but it is a still
higher attainment to become flexible ; that is to say, to move
just as He would have us move. This state of mind might
perhaps be termed the spirit of co-operation, or of Divine co
operation. In this state the will is not only subdued ; but,
what is very important, all tendency to a different or rebellious
state is taken away. Of such a soul, which is described as the
Temple of the Holy Ghost, God himself is the inhabitant and
the light.
" This transformed soul does not cease to advance in holiness.
It is transformed without remaining where it is ; new without

320 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
being stationary. Its life is love, all love ; but the capacity of
its love continually increases.
" Such, Madame, if I understand them, are essentially the
sentiments of the letter which you had the kindness to send me.
" I wish you to write me whether the statement which I have
now made corresponds with what you intended to convey.
" I would make one or two remarks further in explanation of
what has been said. One of the most important steps in the
process of inward restoration is to be found in the habits of the
will. This I have already alluded to, but it is not generally
well understood. A man may, perhaps, have a new life ; but
it cannot be regarded as a perfectly transformed life, a life
brought into perfect harmony with God, until all the evil influ
ences of former habits are corrected. When this takes place, it
is perhaps not easy to determine, but must be left to each one's
consciousness. This process must take place in the will, as well
as in other parts of the mind. The action of the will must not
only be free and right, but must be relieved from all tendency
in another direction resulting from previous evil habits.
" Another remark which I have to make, is in relation to
faith. That all this great work is by faith, is true ; but I think
we should be careful, in stating the doctrine of faith, not to place
it in opposition to reason. On the contrary, we only say what is
sustained both by St. Paul and St, Augustine, when we assert,
that it is a very reasonable thing to believe. Faith is different
from mere physical and emotive impulse ; and it would be no
small mistako to confound those who walk by faith, with
' thoughtless and impulsive persons and enthusiasts.
" Faith is necessarily based upon antecedent acts of intelli
gence. By the use of those powers of perception and reasoning,
which God has given us, we have the knowledge of the exist
ence of God. It is by their use ako, that, we know that God
has spoken to us in His revealed word. In that word, which we
thus receive and verify by reason, we have general truths laid
down, general precepts communicated, applicable to our situa
tion and duties. But these truths, coming from Him who has a

OF MADAME GUYON. 321
right to direct us, are authoritative. They command. And it
is our province and duty, in the exercise oi faith in the goodness
and wisdom of Him who issues the command, to yield obedience,
and to go wherever it may lead us, however dark and mysterious
the path may now appear. Those who walk by faith, walk in
obscurity ; but they know that there is a light above them,
which will make all clear and bright in its appropriate time.
We trust ; but, as St. Paul says, we know in whom we have trusted.
"I illustrate tbe subject, Madame, in this way. I suppose
myself to be in a strange country. There is a wide forest before
me, with which I am totally unacquainted, although I must pass
through it. I accordingly select a guide, whom I suppose to be
able to conduct me through these ways never before trodden by
me. In following this guide, I obviously go by faith ; but as I
know the character of my guide, and as my intelligence or reason
tells me that I ought to exercise such faith, it is clear that my
faith in Him is not in opposition to reason, but is in accordance
with it. On the contrary, if I refuse to have faith in my guide,
and undertake to make my way through the forest by my own
sagacity and wisdom, I may properly be described as a person
without reason, or as unreasonable ; and should probably suffer
for my want of reason by losing my way. Faith and reason,
therefore, if not identical, are not at variance.
" Fully subscribing, with these explanations, to the doctrine
of faith as the life and guide of the soul, I remain, Madame,
yours in our common Lord, Francis S. Fenelon."

CHAPTER XL.
Remarks on Fenelon— Letter from Madame Guyon — Her remarks on faith — On the entire
consecration of the will — Incident in her past experience illustrative of the doctrine of faith
— Fenelon appointed, August 1089, preceptor to the Duke of Burgundy— Character of the
Duke— Labours of F6nelon— The writings of FGnelon— The influence of Madame Guyon
upon him — Her letter on his appointment — Revival of religion -at Dijon.
The principles of the inward life eommended themselves en
tirely to the mind of Fenelon. It is true that these principles,

322 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
saying nothing of the support they have in the Scriptures, are
found with slight variations in many of the Mystic writers ; in
Kempis and Thauler, in Euysbroke, in Cardinal Bona, in Cathe
rine of Genoa, in John of the Cross, and others ; but Fenelon
does not appear to have had much acquaintance with these
writers at this time.
Although they were thus introduced to his notice through the
instrumentality of a woman, who, though greatly accomplished
in other respects, possessed but a limited knowledge of theologi
cal writings, and had learned them not so much from books as
from the dealings of God with herself personally, they were
nevertheless sustained by an inward conviction of their sound
ness. His enlightened and powerful mind, uninfluenced by the
various prejudices which often prevent a correct perception, saw
at once that they bore the signatures of reason and truth. And
letting them have their full power upon himself, and endeavour
ing, with Divine assistance, to be what he felt that he ought to
be, he stood forth to the world, not merely a man, but a man in
the image of Christ ; not more commended by the powers of his
intellect and the perfection of his taste, than by his simplicity of
spirit, his purity, and benevolence.
It is in this inward operation that we find the secret spring of
that justice and benevolence, which impart unspeakable attrac
tions and power to his writings. They seem to be entirely ex
empted from the spirit of selfishness, and to be bathed in purity
and love. And I believe it is the general sentiment, that no
person reads the writings of Fenelon without feeling that he was
an eminently good and holy man.
On receiving the letter of Fenelon, Madame Guyon wrote a
letter in reply, the substance of which is as follows : —
" To the AbbiS de Fenelon, — It gives me great pleasure to
perceive, sir, that you have a clear understanding of the senti
ments which I wished to convey. I agree with you entirely,
that faith and reason, though different principles of action, are
not opposed to each other. He, however, who lives by faith,

OF MADAME GUYON. 323
ceases to reason on selfish principles and with selfish aims ; but
submits his reason to that higher reason, which comes to man
through Jesus Christ, the true conductor of souls. He who walks
in faith, walks in the highest wisdom, although it may not appear
such to the world. The world do not more clearly understand the
truth and beauty of the life of faith, than the ancient Jews under
stood the Divine but unostentatious beauty which shone in the
life of Christ. A worldly mind, full of the maxims of a worldly
life, is not in a situation to estimate the pure and simple spirit of
one whose heart is conformed to the precepts of Divine wisdom.
" You will notice, that I use the term disappropriation, and
entire disappropriation, as convenient expressions for freedom
from all selfish bias whatever. I perceive that you understand
and appreciate entirely the idea which I endeavoured imper
fectly to express ; namely, that the disappropriation or unselfish
ness of the will is not to be regarded as perfect, merely because
the will is broken down and submissive to such a degree as to
have no repugnance whatever to anything which God in His
providence may see fit to send. It is true, this is a very great
grace. In a mitigated sense, the will, under such circumstances,
may be regarded as dead ; but, in the true and absolute sense,
there is still in it a lingering life. There still remains a secret
tendency, resulting from former selfish habits, which leads it to
look back, as it were, with feelings of interest upon what is lost :
in other words, it puts forth its purposes a little less promptly
and powerfully in some directions, than it would have done if it
had been required to act in others. Thus Lot's wife had deter
mined to leave the city of Sodom : she vigorously purposed, in
going forth from the home where she had long dwelt, to conform
to the decrees of Providence, which required her departure ;
but still, as she passed on, in her flight over the plain, there
was a lingering attachment, a tendency to return, which induced
her to look back. Her will, though strongly set in the right direc
tion, did not act in perfect freeness and power, in consequence of
certain latent reminiscences and attachments, which operated as a
hinderance. In like manner the Jews, when they left the land

324: LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
of Goshen, and were on their way to the better country which
the Lord had promised them, often thought with complacency of
their residence in Egypt, and of what they enjoyed there.
" In regard to the principle of faith, I will farther say, that
' it sometimes lies latent, as it were, and concealed in the midst
of discomfort and sorrow. I recollect, that in the former periods
of my experience I once spent a considerable time in a state of
depression and deep sorrow, because I supposed I had lost God,
or at least had lost His favour. My grief was great and with
out cessation. If I had seen things as I now see them, and had
understood them then as I now understand them, I should have
found a principle of restoration and of comfort in the very grief
which overwhelmed me. How could I thus have mourned the
loss of God's presence, or rather what seemed to me to be such
loss, if I did not love Him ? And how could I love Him, with
out faith in Him? In my sorrow, therefore, I might have found
the evidence of my faith. And it is a great truth, that in
reality, whatever may at times be the appearance, God never
does desert, and never can desert, those who believe.
" Desiring to receive from you, from time to time, such sug
gestions as may occur, and believing that your continued and
increased experience in religious things will continually develop
to you new truth, I remain, yours in our Lord,
" Jeanne Marie B. de la Motile Guyon."
About this time, Fenelon, selected in preference to able com
petitors, received from Louis XIV. the appointment of Tutor to
his grandson, the Duke of Burgundy, the heir-apparent to the
throne of France. Fenelon was recommended to this place by
the Duke de Beauvilliers, governor to the grandchildren of the
king, of whom the Duke of Burgundy was the eldest.
" Louis XIV.," says M. de Bausset, in remarking upon these
appointments, " had not hesitated for a moment as to whom ho
should select as a governor for his grandson ; nor did Monsieur
Beauvilliers hesitate a single moment as to the choice of a pre
ceptor. He nominated Fenelon to that office on the 17th of

OF MADAME GUYON. 325
August 1689, the very day after his own appointment." The
king approved the nomination, apparently with entire cordiality ;
and the choice was greatly applauded in France. We have the
testimony of Bossuet, who subsequently came into painful colli
sion with Fenelon, how satisfactory and gratifying it was to him.
The appointment seems to have been unexpected by Fenelon ;
and certainly received without any solicitation. The duty especi
ally assigned him, was to train up the young prince. He could
not be ignorant of the vast responsibility of such an undertaking ;
but he did not see fit to decline it. He entered upon his duties
in the September following.
His pupil, the Duke of Burgundy, had but few of the elements
requisite in one destined to be the ruler of a great people. In
his natural dispositions he was proud, passionate, and capricious ;
tyrannical to his inferiors, and haughty and disobedient to those
who had the control of him.
" The Duke of Burgundy," says Monsieur do St. Simon, "was
by nature terrible. In his earliest youth he gave occasions for
fear and dread. He was unfeeling and irritable to the last ex^
Cess, even against inanimate objects. He was furiously impetu
ous, and incapable of enduring the least opposition, even of time
and the elements, without breaking forth into such intemperate
rage, that it was sometimes to be feared that the very veins in
his body would burst. This excess I have frequently witnessed."
These unhappy traits of disposition were rendered the more
dangerous by being found in combination with very considerable
powers of intellect. It was such a character that was committed
to Fenelon to be trained, corrected, and remodelled.
To this great task, upon the success of which apparently de
pended the hopes and happiness of France, Fenelon brought
great powers of intellect, a finished education, and above all,
the graces of a pure, humble, and believing heart. It was this
last trait, perhaps, more than the others that have been men
tioned, which had recommended him to the Duke de Beauvilliers:
It was natural for him to desire, that the young priuce, while
he had other advantages and means of culture, should not be

326 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
deprived of those connected with a religious example and with
religious impressions.
Fenelon undertook this difficult task, therefore, which he knew
required something more than mere intellectual culture, as a
man of faith and prayer. It would be interesting and profitable
to enter into the details of his labours. It shows with how
much devotedness he engaged in them, that he wrote for the
special instruction of this prince his well-known Fables and
Dialogues. Each of the Fables, and also each of the Dialogues,
was written on particular occasions and with particular objects ;
having been composed for the most part, when the teacher found
it necessary to remind his pupil of some faults which he had
committed, and to inculcate upon him the duty and the methods
of amendment.
There is reason to suppose, that his celebrated work, the
Adventures of Telemachus, published many years afterwards,
was also written at this time, and with the same general object.
In this remarkable work, we have a striking combination of
sound judgment with great resources of imagination ; so that it
is difficult to say, which is most to be admired, the wisdom and
benevolence of its political and moral maxims, or the richness
and beauty of its imagery.
But here it is natural to make the inquiry : — What one,
among all the biographers of Fenelon, has thought of ascribing
the truth, purity, and love, which appear in these remarkable
writings, and still more in his religious writings, tho most of
which appeared at a later period, to the influence of Madame
Guyon ? At this very time he was receiving from her private
conversations and correspondence, influences and principles which
can never die. With scarcely an exception, the biographers of
Fenelon notice this circumstance very slightly ; and in the little
they have to say, speak less of the aid he received, than of the
dangers he is supposed to have escaped. But it ought not to be
concealed, that it was a woman's mind, operating upon tho mind
of their author, from which no small portion of the light which
pervades and embellishes them first proceeded.

OF MADAME GUYON. 327
This is another among the many facts, which go to show the
vast extent, as well as the great diversity, of woman's influence.
She not only forms man in childhood and youth, by that maternal
influence which exceeds all other influence in wisdom, as well as
in efficiency ; but in maturer years her power, though less ob
vious, perhaps, does not cease to exist. Many are the minds,
whose controlling energy is felt in the movements and the destiny
of nations, and whose names are imperishable in the monuments
of history, that have been sustained and guided in their seasons
of action and endurance, in the origination of plans of benevo- !
lence and patriotism, and in the fortitude which carried them
into effect, by the inspirations of woman's genius and the gener
ous purity of her affections.
And none need this influence more than truly great men.]
None are so great in this life as to be beyond the need of sup
port ; and there is something in our nature which proclaims that
the kind of support which they most frequently and most deeply
need, is to be found here. Occupied with great conceptions,
placed in trying and hazardous situations, burdened with anxie
ties, and pressed with peculiar temptations, who need more than
they the consolations of her sympathy and the suggestions of
her prudence ?
Madame Guyon, in all her labours, appreciated relations and
effects. The soul of Fenelon, in itself, was not more dear than
that of any other person. But when she considered the rela
tions in which he stood, and the influence which he was capable
of exerting, she felt how necessary it was that he should be
delivered from inferior motives, and should act and live only in
the Lord.
It is not surprising, therefore, that, on the very day after his
appointment, she wrote a letter, of which the following is the
substance : — " Paris, August 18, 1689.
" To the Abbe de Fenelon, — I have received without sur
prise, but not without sincere joy, the news of your appointment,
in which it seems to me his Majesty has done no more than

328 LIFE AND religious experience
respond to your just claims. For some time past I have had
but little doubt that it would devolve upon yourself.
" The last time in which I attended the mass, at which you
administered, I had an impression without being able to tell
why, that I might not hereafter have so frequent opportunities
to unite with you in this service. The secret prayer aroso from
my heart, — 0 that, amid the artifices of the world to which he
is exposed, he may ever be a man of a simple and childlike
spirit ! I understand now, better than I did then, why it was
that the Lord gave me such earnest desires in your behalf.
" I should not be surprised, sir, if you should experience some
degree of natural distaste to the office, but you will commit
yourself to the Lord, who will enable you to overcome all such
trials. Act always without regard to self. The less you have
of self, the more you will have of God. Great as are the natural
talents which God has given you, they will be found to be use
ful in the employment to which you are now called, only in
proportion as they move in obedience to Divine grace.
" You are called, in God's providence, to aid and to superin
tend in the education of a prince ; — whom, with all his faults,
God loves, and has, it seems to me, designs to restore spiritually
to Himself. And I have the satisfaction of believing that, in
this important office, you will feel it your duty to act in entire
dependence, moment by moment, on the influences of the Holy
Spirit. God has chosen you to be His instrument in this work ;
and He has chosen you for this purpose, while He has passed
by others, because He has enabled you to recognise and appre
ciate, in your own heart, the Divine movement. Although you
may not, on account of the extreme youth of the prince, see im
mediately those fruits of your labours which you would naturally
desire, still do not be discouraged. Die to yourself in your hopes
and expectations, as well as in other things. Leave all with
God. Do not doubt that the fruit will come in its season ; and
that God, through the faith of those that love Him and labour
for Him, will build up that which is now in ruins. Perhaps you
will be made a blessing to the king, his grandfather, also.

OF MADAME GUYON. 329
" This morning, in particular, my mind was greatly exercised.
And as I was thinking, in connexion with your character, and
your position in society, of the deep interest which I had felt,
and which I continued to feel, the thought arose in my heart,
Why is it thus f why 'kloes the heavy responsibility of thus
watching and praying rest upon me, and consume me f I am
but a little child, an infant. But a voice seemed to utter itself in
my heart, and to reply : — Say not that thou art a little one. I
have put my word in thy mouth. Go where I shall send thee ;
speak what I shall command.
" I speak, then, because I must do what the Lord has ap
pointed me to do, and because the Lord employs me as an instru
ment, and speaks in me. Already my prayer is in part answered.
When the work is completed, and when I see, in the full sancti
fication of a soul which is so dear to me, all that I have looked
for, and all that I have expected, then shall I be able to say,
' Now, Lord, let thy servant depart in peace ; for mine eyes have
seen thy salvation.' — I remain yours in our Lord,
" Jeanne Marie B. de la Mome Guyon."
In the early part of 1689, a few months before the events of
which we are now speaking, some priests and theological doctors
made a visit to Dijon and its neighbourhood. And, apparently
to their great surprise, they found a considerable religious move
ment in progress, of which Madame Guyon was the reputed
author, and which was evidently sustained by the free circula
tion of her writings. In her return from Grenoble to Paris in
1686, she took Dijon in her way, and spent a day or two there.
She left a deep impression on a few persons, especially Monsieur
Claude Guillot, a priest of high character in the city. The seed
thus sown in conversations, enforced by a single sermon from
La Combe, sprang up and bore fruit ; so that in 1689 the new
religious principles excited much attention. The persons who
visited Dijon at this time, coming with some degree of ecclesias
tical authority, interposed to stop this state of things. Among
other things they collected three hundred copies of the work of

330 life and religious experience
Madame Guyon on Prayer, and caused them to be publicly
burned.

CHAPTER XLI,
1002 — Labours of Madame Guyon — Interviews with Madame de Maintenon — Unhappiness
of the latter — Institution of St. Cyr — Interviews between Madame do Maintenon and
Madame Guyon — Labours of Madame Guyon with the young ladies — Letters to them —
Madame Guyon visited hy Sister Malin, resident at Ham — Public attention directed to
her again—Interview with Peter Nicole — Interview with Monsieur Boilcau, brother of the
poet — Writes at his suggestion "A Concise Apology for the Short Method of Prayer" —
Poisoned by one of her servants — Temporary concealment — Friendship of M. Fouquet —
His sickness and death.
The letters which passed between Madame Guyon and Fene
lon, the greater part of them during this period of a little more
than two years, or at most three years, occupy nearly a full
volume of her printed correspondence. The same great objects
led them also to seek each other's company, with a view to a
more direct interchange of opinions. These interviews at one
period were frequent.
She resided with her daughter till the year 1692. Here,
more than anywhere else, Fenelon had interviews with her.
" The family," she says, " into which my daughter married,
being of the number of the Abbe Fenelon's friends, I had fre
quent opportunities of seeing him. Our conversations turned
upon the inward and spiritual life. From time to time he made
objections to my views and experience, which I endeavoured to
answer with sincerity and simplicity of spirit. The doctrines of
Michael de Molinos were so generally condemned, that the
plainest things began to be distrusted ; and the terms used by
writers on the spiritual life, were for the most part regarded as
objectionable, and were set aside. But, notwithstanding these
unfavourable circumstances, I was enabled so fully to explain
everything to Fenelon, that he gradually entered into the views
which the Lord had led me to entertain, and finally gave them
his unqualified assent. The persecutions, which he has since
Buffered, are an evidence of the sincerity of his belief."

OF MADAME GUYON. 331
But while she was thus labouring and praying to renovate
and to mould anew the mind of that remarkable man, she
found time and disposition to labour for others. During her re
sidence at the house of her daughter, where, besides frequent
interruptions from company, she could not fail to be constantly
reminded of the claims and duties of her near relationship, her
religious labours, it is true, were somewhat circumscribed. But,
as soon as the new relations and interests of her daughter would
permit, she felt that the claims of the great cause required her
to alter her situation. And accordingly, after the lapse of about
two years, she once more hired for her residence a private house
in Paris.
In 1692, her acquaintance with Madame de Maintenon be-i
came somewhat intimate. This celebrated woman, although for
political reasons she was not publicly acknowledged as such,
had been privately married to Louis XIV. She had his confi
dence as well as his affections ; and for many years the most
important affairs of France depended, in a great degree, upon
her cognizance and concurrence. Her power was felt to be
hardly less than that of the king. The greatest men of the
kingdom paid her homage. Everything which wealth or art
could furnish, was put in requisition to render her happy. But
still there was a void within her which the riches and honours of
the world could not supply.
Her letters, which show her talents and many excellent points
of character, disclose also a sorrow of mind which she felt could
have no balm but in religion. It is not the world which can :
heal the wounds it has itself made.
Writing to Madame de la Maisonfort, she says : — " Why can i
I not give you my experience ? Why can I not make you sen
sible of that uneasiness which preys upon the great, and the
difficulty they labour under to employ their time ? Do you not
see that I am dying with melancholy, in a height of fortune
which once my imagination could scarce have conceived ? I
have been young and beautiful, have had a high relish of plea-r
sure, and have been the universal object of love. In a more

332

LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE

advanced age, I have spent years in intellectual pleasures ; I
have at last risen to favour ; but I protest to you, my dear
Madame, that every one of these conditions leaves in the mind
a dismal vacuity."*
Under these circumstances, she sought and valued the com
pany of Madame Guyon. She needed the intercourse and advice
of persons of piety. There was something in her person and
manners which attracted her. She saw her from time to time
afterwards ; and at this time she went so far as to invite her to
the royal palace at Versailles ; and felt it no dishonour, as she
certainly felt it a great satisfaction and relief, to hear from the
lips of her misrepresented and persecuted visitant the story of a
Saviour's condescension, the remedy for sin, and the victory which
Christ can give over the ills of our fallen nature.
Among the objects which occupied much of the time and
affections of Madame de Maintenon, was the celebrated Institu
tion of St. Cyr, which she established in 1686. It was a charit
able Institution, combining both literary and religious objects,
designed for the support and education of indigent young ladies,
at any period under twenty years of age ; the daughters of
persons who had suffered losses or spent their lives in the
service of the state. Two hundred and fifty young ladies,
many of them from illustrious but unfortunate families, were
assembled there.
Tired of the splendour and cares of Versailles, and attracted
by the quiet and benevolence of an institution founded on such
principles, Madame de Maintenon spent much of her time, at
this period, at St. Cyr. It was here that Madame Guyon met
her still more frequently than at Versailles. St. Cyr furnished
better opportunities for private and protracted conversations, by
its retired and less worldly aspects ; and they could meet there
without exciting the suspicions of Louis. Madame de la Maison
fort, her friend and relative, was employed at this time as an
instructress in the institution. In her visits also, from time to
time, to the Duchess of Charost, at her residence at Beine, to
* See Voltaire's Life of Louis XIV., vol. li. chap. 26.

OF MADAME GUYON. 333;
whom she was now related by the marriage of her daughter, she
waB accustomed to take a route which led to the vicinity of St.
Cyr. So that under these circumstances she found it not more
agreeable to her feelings, than it was entirely convenient for her,
frequently to visit there.
Madame de Maintenon, pleased and edified by the conversa
tions and instructions of Madame Guyon, gave her liberty to
visit the young ladies of the Institution, and to converse with
them on religious subjects. Nothing could have been more
agreeable than such a labour, for which Providence seems to
have especially fitted her. The Divine presence and blessing
which almost uniformly attended her in other places, did not
desert her here. " Sever.il of the young ladies," she says, " of
the House or Institution of St. Cyr, having informed Madame
de Maintenon, that they found in my conversation something
which attracted them to God, she encouraged me to continue my
instructions to them ; and by the great change in some of them,
with whom she had previously not been well satisfied, she found
she had no reason to repent it."
It was something new to the members of this institution, — i
some of whom were from fashionable though reduced families,
while others of a more serious turn probably had nothing more
than a form of godliness, — to hear of redemption, and of perma
nent inward salvation by faith. All of them had been accus
tomed more or less to the ceremonials of religion ; and it was
not unnatural for them to confound the ceremonial with the
substance, the sign with the thing signified. This might not
have been the case in all instances ; but generally they regarded
their acceptance with God as depending, in a great degree at
least, on a number of outward observances, rather than on
inward dispositions.
Turned by the conversation of Madame Guyon from the out
ward to the inward, led to reflect upon their own situation and
wants, tbey saw that there is something better than worldly
vanity ; and began to seek a truer, sincerer, and higher position.
They understood and felt deeply for the first time, that religion,

334 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
something more than the mere ceremonial, is a life ; and that
they only are wise, and true, and happy, who live to God. How
far this moral and religious revolution went in this institution
is not known ; but it seems to have been general. A serious
ness pervaded it, such as had not existed there before : there
was a general recognition of the claims of God ; and the spirit
of faith and prayer, of purity and of true benevolence, took, in
a great degree, the place of thoughtless scepticism and frivolous
gaiety. Not unfrequently she received from some of them letters,
proposing inquiries on inward experience and practical duty.
She sometimes wrote to them on special occasions, without being
invited to it by formal inquiries. The following extracts will
illustrate her labours in this way : —
" Mademoiselle  . I have heard of your sickness, not
without being sensibly affected by it ; but it has been a great
satisfaction to find that God has been present with you, and
that your outward sorrows have had an inward reward. Afflic
tions are the allotment of the present life ; and happy will it be,
Mademoiselle, if you shall learn the great lesson of always im
proving them aright. This, I think, you will be able to do, if
you are faithful to the inward voice. It is God's decision ; or,
if you prefer it, it is God's voice ; the voice of God in the soul.
" One of the most important conditions on which we can
have this inward Divine utterance, is this, — The soul must be in
perfect simplicity ; that is to say, it must bo free from all the
varieties of human prejudice and passion. It is an easy thing
to grieve the Spirit of God. He dwells in and guides the soul,
which, in looking at God's will alone, is in simplicity ; but He
leaves the soul which is under any degree of selfish bias.
" In order, therefore, to hear the voice of God in the soul, we
must lay aside all interests of our own. It is necessary for us
to possess a mind, if we may so express it, in equilibrio ; that
is to say, balanced from motives of self neither one way nor the
other.

OF MADAME GUYON. 335
" Not doubting that you will receive the suggestions of this
letter as the result of my sincere affection, and of my earnest
desire for your religious good, I remain yours,
" Jeanne M. B. de la Mothe Guyon."
The following appears to have been written to a married lady ;
but probably one with whom Madame Guyon had previously
become acquainted at St. Cyr : —
" Madame  . Our friend N  has departed. She was
a choice and excellent young woman ; and, in leaving a world
where she endured so many trials, she has received the recom
pense of her labours and sufferings.
" You are right, Madame, in saying that it is not common
for us to meet with such treasures of grace. They are indeed
more rare than can be expressed. Few, very few, go, as she
did, to the bottom of the heart.
' " The great majority of those who profess an interest in reli
gious things — religious teachers and guides, as well as seekers
of religion — stop short, and are satisfied with the outside and
surface of things. They ornament and enrich the exterior of the
ark, forgetting that God commanded Moses to begin with the
inside and overlay it with gold, and afterwards to ornament the
outside. Like the Pharisees of old, they make clean the outside
of the cup and platter, but leave the inside impure. In other
words, while they endeavour to make a good appearance to men
outwardly, they are inwardly full of self-love, of self-esteem, of
self-conceit, and of self-will. How different the religious state,
if such it may be called, of these persons from that of our de
parted friend !
" Why do you make a difficulty, Madame, in speaking to me
about your dress? Should you not be free, and tell me all?
You have done well in laying aside the unnecessary ornament to
which you refer. I entreat you never to wear it again. I am
quite confident also, that, if you would listen to the secret voice
which speaks in the bottom of your heart, you would find more

336 life and religious experience
things to put off. Perhaps you will say, that you must regard
your husband's feelings. This is true ; but I am persuaded,
that, in his present favourable dispositions, you will please him
as much by laying aside those ornaments as by wearing them.
" Consider what you owe to God, and promptly crucify all the
pretexts of nature. You will never make any such crucifixion
of the desires and pretensions of the natural life, without drawing
down some returns of Divine grace upon you.
" A Christian woman should be distinguished by a neat and
modest dress, but not so affected and ornamented as to attract
attention. It is not necessary, however, to lay down an invari
able rule. You should wear apparel suited to your situation in
life ; but you will pardon me for suggesting the propriety and
duty of putting off those superfluous ribbons. I am confident
that, in so doing, you will not be less pleasing in the eyes of your
husband ; and that you will be much more so in the eyes of Him
whom you wish to please above all.
" I am desirous, when you write to me, that you should feel
the greatest confidence and freedom. Do not be afraid to pro
pose questions upon things which the world might regard as
trifling. So far from lessening my esteem for you, it will have
quite a different effect, because I infer from your anxiety in such
particulars, that you have a disposition to give yourself wholly
to God, It is a sign, I think, that God, in making you attentive
and careful in the smallest things, is laying the foundations of
His inward work in the very centre of the heart.
" Most earnestly I beseech you to be faithful to Him. In fol
lowing the Divine guidance, and in doing the Divine will, you
will find a thousand times more satisfaction than in the pleasures
which the world can impart to you.
" Thus desiring that you may be guided and kept, I remain
yours in our Lord, Jeanne M. B. de la Mothe Guyon."
A religious movement in such an institution as that of St.
Cyr, could not well take place without being extensively known.
Her opposers, who seem to have supposed that her zeal would

OF MADAME GUYON. 337
be checked by the discipline of her first imprisonment, were once
more on the alert.
It was not only at Paris, at Dijon, at Versailles, and St. Cyr,
that her influence was felt ; but there began to be evidences of
it in other places. A single incident will illustrate this : — A
sister Malin, resident at Ham, in the then province of Picardy,
was so deeply impressed with the necessity of religious instruc
tion, that she came to Paris for the sole purpose of obtaining
such instruction from Madame Guyon. She had charge of an
institution for the education of girls ; and seemed desirous to
learn the truth for others as well as herself. To cases of this
kind Madame Guyon always gave a prompt and earnest atten
tion. Persons also sought her society who had no faith in her doc
trines, but were either anxious to obtain further information, or
to convert her to their own views. There were many such ; and
among them was Peter Nicole, known extensively by a multi
plicity of writings on various subjects, and as the friend and
literary associate of Arnauld, the Port-Eoyalist. " An acquaint
ance of mine," she says, " an intimate friend also of Monsieur
Nicole, had often heard him speak against me. This person
thought that it would not be difficult to remove the objections of
Nicole, if we could be made personally acquainted, and have
opportunities of conversation. He thought this important, be
cause many had received their impressions from him. Accord
ingly, although with some reluctance on my part, we met.
" After some little conversation, he referred to my book, en
titled the Short and Easy Method of Prayer, and made the
remark that it was full of errors. I proposed that we should
read the book together ; and I desired him to tell me frankly
and kindly those things in the book which seemed objectionable ;
expressing the hope, at the same time, that I might be able to
meet and answer them. He expressed himself well satisfied ;
and, accordingly, we read the book through together with much
attention. " After we had read it partly through, I asked him to specify

338 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
his objections ; but he replied, that, so far, he had none. After
we had completed the book, I repeated the question. ' Madame,'
said Nicole, ' I find that my talent is in writing, and not pre
cisely in personal discussions of this kind. If you have no
objections, I will refer you to a learned and good friend of mine,
Monsieur Boileau. He will be able to indicate the imperfections
of the book ; and porhaps you will be able to profit by his sug
gestions.'" Nicole was a very learned man, and a great master of reason
ing. But he had probably never read the book, and hence his
peculiar and not very creditable position at this time. A year
or two afterwards, however, he published a book, in which he
strongly attacked the opinions held by Madame Guyon, and
others, or rather their opinions as he understood them*
A few days after this interview, she saw his friend, Monsieur
Boileau, a brother of the French poet and satirist. " He intro
duced the subject," she says, " of my little book on Prayer. I
told him the state of mind in which I wrote it. Ho remarked
that he was entirely persuaded of the sincerity of my intentions ;
but he said that the book was liable to fall into the hands of
some who might misapply it. I asked him the favour to point
out the passages in it, which caused this anxiety. Accordingly,
we looked over the book together ; and when he came to such
passages, I gave explanations, which seemed to satisfy him.
" When we had finished, he said, ' Madame, all that is wanted
is a little more in the way of explanation.' And he pressed me
very much to write something additional and explanatory, which
I agreed to do. A few days after, I completed what he wished
me to write, and sent it to him for examination ; and he seemed
to be well satisfied. I revised it onco or twice ; and ho urged
me much to print it."
It was printed some time afterwards, and is entitled, A concise
Apology for the Short and Easy Method of Prayer.
Constantly labouring in the cause of religion, blessed in those
* Refutation des Princtpales Errwrs des QuUtistes, contenucs dans les livres censure's
par t'ordoniumee de Monseigneur I'Archcveqite de Paris (De Ilarlaii, du 16 Octobre 1604.

OF MADAME GUYON. 339
labours continually to an extent seldom witnessed, listened to
with great attention by the ignorant, and criticised or attacked
by the learned, her name came once more into general notice,
and excited a general hostility. The outcries were loud, deep,
and revengeful. Her enemies, seeing the difficulty of quenching
the light of her piety by any ordinary means, resorted to the
most dreadful measures. Attempts were made, through one of
her servants, who seems to have been bribed for that purpose, to
put her to death by poison. She refers to this painful incident
very briefly.
" One of my servants," she says, " was prevailed upon to give
me poiBon. After taking it, I suffered such exquisite pains, that,
without speedy succour, I should have died in a few hours. The
servant immediately ran away, and I have never seen him since.
At the time it did not occur to me that I was poisoned, until
my physicians came in, and informed me that such was the case.
My servant was tbe immediate agent ; but I am in possession of
circumstances which go strongly to show that others originated
it. I suffered from it for seven years afterwards."
So great was the excitement that she thought it prudent to
live in entire concealment for some months. No one knew
where she was, except Monsieur Fouquet, the uncle of her son-
in-law. He obtained by authority which he had from her, the
the funds necessary for her support ; and kept her advised of the
movements of her enemies.
Madame Guyon hoped, by retiring for a time altogether from
notice, there would be some cessation to these attacks. But she
was mistaken. As soon as she disappeared, the report was cir
culated, that she had gone into the provinces to disseminate her
doctrines there ; so that her retirement tended rather to increase
than to allay the ferment. Under these circumstances she
thought it best to return home.
Soon after this, occurred the sickness and death of her friend
Monsieur Fouquet. In him she found one who not only sym
pathized in her religious views and feelings, but aided her much
as an adviser in her affairs. Madame Guyon seems to have had

340 v LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
entire confidence in his religious experience, practical prudence,
and friendly dispositions. And in consequence of the family
connexion now existing between them, she could consult him
without being subjected to the suspicions and misinterpretations
which might have attended the presence and aid of other per
sons. His last moments were moments of triumphant peace.
The following letter was written to him by Madame Guyon, a
short time before his death : —
" To Monsieur Fouquet. — Eegarding your departure as near
at hand, I cannot help saying that, in losing you, I lose one of
my most faithful friends ; perhaps I may add, that I lose the
only friend in whom, under existing circumstances, I can repose
with entire confidence in all things. I feel my loss ; but the
sorrow which I experience does not prevent my rejoicing in the
happiness which is yours. It is not your situation which is to
be regretted, but rather that of those who are left behind. God,
who has made us one in spirit, has announced the hour of
separation. May the blessing of our Divine Master rest upon
you! " Go then, happy spirit ; — go, and receive the recompense
reserved for all those who have given themselves to the Lord in
a love which is pure. As we have been united in time, may we
be united in eternity. Let your parting prayer be for her who
is left behind, and for the spiritual children whom the Lord has
given her, that in all time, and in all things, they may be faith
ful to His adorable will.
"Farewell ; — and, as you ascend to the arms of Him who has
prepared a place for you, be an ambassador for me, and tell
Him that my soul loves Him.
" Jeanne M. B. de la Mothe Guyon."

OF MADAME GUYON. 341

CHAPTER XLII.

Efforts in her behalf— She objects to tho course proposed— Bossuet— His character and
position — Alarmed at tho progress of tho new doctrine— Interview with Madame Guyon 
Second Interview — The conversation — Effect upon Madame Guyon— Correspondence be
tween them — Attacked with a fever.
In this state of things, some of the friends of Madame Guyon
undertook some measures in her behalf. Fearing either some
acts of personal violence, or some impressions on the minds of
those in authority, which might perhaps lead to a renewed im
prisonment, they drew up a memorial to the king, the object of
which was to give a correct account of the incidents of her life
and of her motives of action, with a view to vindicate and to
protect her. This memorial was drawn up with the concurrence
and approbation of Madame de Maintenon, who thought it pro
per to show it to Madame Guyon.
" This paper," says Madame Guyon, " although it was a
pleasing evidence of the kindness of those who had a share in
framing it, gave me some uneasiness. I had some doubts
whether it was the will of God that I should be protected and
vindicated in that manner. I was jealous of myself, lest I
should be found improperly resting upon a human arm, or too
eager to be relieved from that burden of trial, which God's wis
dom had seen fit to impose. I earnestly requested my friends
not to take this course, but to leave me to the natural develop
ments of Providence. They respected my wishes ; and the
memorial was accordingly suppressed."
The new spirituality, as it was sometimes termed, particularly
arrested the attention of Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, at this time
confessedly the leader of the French Church. And if we esti
mate him chiefly by his intellectual strength, he deserved to be
so. Possessed of vast learning and not greater in the amount
of his knowledge than in the powers which originated and con
trolled it, he brought to the investigation of religious subjects

342 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
I the combined lights and ornaments of research, of reasoning, and
! of rich imagination.
By his work, entitled, A History of the Variations of the
Doctrines of the Reformed Churches, in which he had subjected
the doctrines of Luther and of the other Protestant reformers to
a severe scrutiny, he had not only acquired a splendid reputa
tion, but had placed himself in a position which led him to be
regarded by Eoman Catholics as emphatically the defender of
the faith. This reputation was so dear to him, that he had for
many years, as if by strong instinct, fixed his withering eye on
the slightest heretical deviations. He knew well what was going
on in France. But he who had broken the spear with the
strongest intellects of the world, felt some reluctance to entering
, the lists with a woman.
It seemed to him impossible that Madame Guyon, whatever
might be her talents and personal influence, could produce an
impression, either in Paris or elsewhere, which could be danger
ous to the Church. And if it were so, was it not enough, that
D'Aranthon and Father Innocentius, men of distinguished ability
and of great influence, had already, in the early and distant
places of her influence, set in motion measures of opposition ;
measures sustained at Paris by the efforts of La Mothe and
De Harlai, of Nicole and Boileau, aided by a multitude of sub
ordinate agencies ?
But the result did not correspond with his anticipations. If
'such distinguished men as the Dukes of Beauvilliers and Chev
reuse, and more than all, if such a man as Fenelon, on whom
the hopes of France had fastened as its burning and shining
light, had come under this influence, to what would these things
lead ? It seems never to have occurred to him, that the hand
of the Lord might be in all this. He is not wise who thinks
lightly of the influence of a woman who has the great intellec
tual powers, accomplished manners, and serious and deep piety
of Madame Guyon. But God has chosen the weak things of
the world to confound the things which are mighty. Has He
not declared, and has He not sustained the declaration by the

OF MADAME GUYON. 343
history of spiritual movements in all ages of the world, that He
has selected " things which are not, to bring to nought things
that are f"
God will so work, and employ such instrumentality, as to i
glorify Himself. It was not Madame Guyon, but God in her,
who produced these results. She had undergone those deeply
searching and purifying operations of the Holy Spirit which '
Consume the pride and power, "the hay and the stubble" of
nature, and leave the subject of it nothing in himself. She could
find no term which so exactly expressed her situation as the word
Nothing. But it was a favourite idea with her also, that the
All of God — His presence, wisdom, and power — dwells, more
than anywhere else, in the nothing of the creature. This, which
Bossuet seems not fully to have understood, was the source of
her influence.
The case of Fenelon, in particular, troubled him ; Fenelon,
whose talents ho knew, whoso friendship he valued, and of whose
piety and influence he had the highest hopes. He determined,
therefore, though with some reluctance, to put forth his own
great strength, and to risk his own splendid reputation, in the
attempt to extinguish this new heresy. But he had known
Madame Guyon only by report ; and he thought it due to
charity and truth, to form a personal acquaintance as a means
of more distinctly ascertaining her views. He accordingly
visited her, for the first time, at her residence in Paris, with the
Duke of Chevreuse, in September 1693. The conversation was
at first of a general character. Bossuet remarked, that he had
formerly read, with a degree of satisfaction, her Treatise on
Prayer, and Commentary on the Canticles. The Duke directed
his attention to the work entitled Tub Torrents. He imme
diately cast his eye rapidly over some passages. A few moments
after, he remarked, without condemning anything, that some
things required explanation.
Bossuet made a number of remarks on the necessity and,
reality of an inward and spiritual life, which were highly grati
fying to Madame Guyon. The interview terminated with a pro-

344 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
j position on her part, which was accepted by Bossuet, that he
should examine at his leisure all her writings, and make known
more definitely his opinions upon them.
A, second meeting took place, January 30, 1694. In the
interval, the Duke of Chevreuse, with the permission of Madame
Gnyon, in order to give him a full view of her history and cha
racter, put into the hands of Bossuet the manuscript of her
Autobiography. He read it carefully, and politely wrote a
letter to the duke, expressive of the interest he felt in it.
All her printed works also were submitted to him, so that
Bossuet felt prepared to state some of the objections which he
felt to her views.
At the request of Bossuet, both this and his previous interview
were kept as secret as possible. The reason he gave was, that
the relations existing between him and the Archbishop of Paris,
who was probably jealous of his superior knowledge and reputa
tion, were such as to render it desirable. At his request, also,
he met her at the house of one of his own friends, the Abbe
Jannon, in the street Cassette, near the Convent or House of
the religious association, called the Daughters of the Holy
Sacrament. A small part of the conversation is given by Madame Guyon
in her Autobiography. What is wanting can, I think, be made
up, in a considerable degree, from her subsequent correspondence
with Bossuet, and her work entitled, A concise Apology for the
Short Method of Prayer. With these aids I have ventured to
give the following conversation, as expressive of the substance
of what passed, without attempting the precise terms of it. It
is rendered remarkable by the topics, and the relation of the
parties; and it should not be forgotten, that, while Madame
Guyon stood foremost among women of intellect as well as piety,
Bossuet was at that time the most distinguished of the theolo
gians of Europe.
Bossuet. — The doctrines which you advance, Madame, involve
the fact of an inward experience above the common experience
of Christians, even those who have a high reputation for piety.

OF MADAME GUYON. 345
Madame Guyon. — I hope, sir, it will not be regarded as an
offence, if I indulge the hope and belief, that a higher experi
ence, even a much higher one, is practicable than that which we
commonly see.
Bossuet. — Certainly not. But when we see persons going so
far as to speak of a love to God without any regard to self, of
the entire sanctification of the heart, and of Divine union, have
we not reason to fear that there is some illusion ? j We are told
that thtire is " none that doeth good and sinneth not."
Madame Guyon. — There is no one, except the Saviour, who
has not sinned. There is no one who will not always be entirely
unworthy. Even when there is a heart which Divine grace has
corrected and has rendered entirely upright, there may still be
errors of perception and judgment, which will involve relatively
wrong and injurious doing, and render it necessary, therefore,
to apply continually to the blood of Christ. But whilo I readily
concede all this, I cannot forget that we are required to be like
Christ; and that the Saviour Himself has laid the injunction
upon us to love God with all our heart, and to be perfect as our
heavenly Father is perfect. My own experience haB added
strength to my convictions.
Bossuet. — Personal experience is an important teacher. And as
you have thus made a reference to what you have known experi
mentally, you will not think it amiss, Madame, if I ask whether
you regard yourself as the subject of this high religious state.
Madame Guyon. — If you understand by a holy heart one
which is wholly consecrated and devoted to God, I see no reason
why I should deny the grace of God, which has wrought in me,
as I think, this great salvation.
Bossuet. — The Saviour, Madame, speaks in high terms of the
man who went up into the temple, and smote upon his bosom,
and said, " God be merciful to me a sinner."
Madame Guyon. — It is very true, sir, that this man was a
sinner ; but it is also true, that he prayed that God would be
merciful to him ; and God, who is a hearer of prayer, did not
mock either his sorrows or his petitions, but granted his request.

346 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
If I may Bpeak of myself, I think I may say, that I too have
uttered the same prayer ; I too have smitten upon my bosom in
the deep anguish of a rebellious and convicted spirit. I can
never forget it. Months and years witnessed the tears which
I shed ; but deliverance came. My wounds were healed ; my
tears were dried up ; and my soul was crowned, and I can say
with thankfulness, is now crowned with purity and peace.
Bossuet. — There are but few persons who can express them
selves so strongly.
Madame Guyon. — I regret that it is so ; and the more so,
because it is an evidence of the want oi faith. Men pray to
God to be merciful, without believing that He is willing to be
merciful ; they pray for deliverance from sin and for full sancti
fication, without believing that provision is made for it ; and
thus insult God in the very prayer they offer. Can one like
yourself, who has studied the Scriptures so long and so profit
ably, doubt of the rich provisions of the Gospel, and deny, in
the long catalogue of the saints of the Catholic Church, that
any of them have been sanctified ?
Bossuet. — I am not disposed, Madame, to deny, that the doc
trine of sanctification, properly understood, is a doctrine of the
Catholic Church. I cannot forget the rich examples in a St.
Francis de Sales, in a St. Theresa, and in the celebrated Catha
rines. But I cannot deny, that I am slow to admit the existence
of this great blessing in individual cases. The evidence should
be very marked. This, you will admit, is a proper precaution.
And conceding that the promises of God are adequate to these
great results, and admitting the general truth of the doctrine
of sanctification, I must still offer inquiries which involve very
serious doubts as to some of its aspects, as presented in your
writings. Madame Guyon. — I have always been ready, sir, to confess
my ignorance ; and having no system to maintain, and no object
to secure, separate from the doing of God's will and the mani
festation of His glory, I have no reluctance in submitting what
I have said to your correction.

OF MADAME GUYON. 347
Bossuet. — In looking over the manuscript which gives some
account of your own personal history, in which I have generally
been interested and satisfied, I was somewhat surprised to see
that, in a certain passage, you speak of yourself as the woman
of the Apocalypse.
Madame Guyon. — There is something of this kind. As I
read the passage in tho Apocalypse, which spoaks of the woman
who fled into the wilderness, I must confess, as I thought of
myself as driven from place to place for announcing the doctrines
of the Lord, it did seem to me that the expressions might be
applied not as prophetic of me, but as illustrative of my con
dition. Bossuet. — I accept your explanation in this particular entirely,
and will proceed to some things which seem to me essential. It
is not merely my object to criticise, but, in part at least, to
obtain explanations, that I may understand the subject more
fully, and know, in the situation in which I am placed, what
course it is proper to take. You will excuse me, therefore, for
asking what you mean by being in the state which is variously
denominated the state of holiness, of pure love, and of Christian
perfection ?
Madame Guyon. — This question might be answered in various ¦
ways. But as some of these terms, in their application to
human nature, are in some degree odious, and at least liable to
be misunderstood, I will say here, that I understand much the
same thing as by being in the state of entire self-renunciation.
He who is nothing, lost to himself, dead to his own wisdom and
strength, and, in the renouncement of his own life, lives in God's
life, may properly be called a holy man ; and, in a mitigated
sense of the term, may perhaps be called a perfect man. True
lowliness of spirit, accompanied by such faith in God as will
supply the nothingness of the creature from the Divine fulness,
involves the leading idea of what, in experimental writers, is '.
denominated Christian perfection. Perhaps some other name
would express it as well.
Bossuet.— I am glad to find, Madame, that you entertain

348 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
such views of Christian perfection as are consistent with lowli
ness of spirit. The Saviour himself says, " He that is least
among you all, the same shall be great." And the Apostle of
the Gentiles, eminent as he was in sanctity, describes himself
as the " least of the apostles." (Luke ix. 48 ; 1 Cor. xv. 9.)
Eminently holy persons feel their dependence and nothingness
more entirely than others.
, But is it a m^rk, Madame, of Christian lowliness to disregard
principles and practices sanctioned by the wisdom and piety of
many ages ? In your Short Method of Prayer, some expressions
seem to imply that the austerities and mortifications practised
' in the Catholic Church are not necessary. i
Madame Guyon. — I admit that my views and practices differ
in this particular from those of some others. My view now is
this. Physical sufferings and mortifications, which tend to bring
the appetites into subjection, are of great value ; they are a
part of God's discipline, which He has wisely instituted and
rendered operative in the present life : but then they should not
be self-sought or self-inflicted, but should be received and sub
mitted to, as they come in God's providence. In other words,
crosses are good ; our rebellious nature needs them ; not those,
however, which are of merely human origin, but those which
God himself makes and imposes.
Bossuet. — I am doubtful whether your views on this subject
ought to be considered satisfactory. But we will leave them
for the present.
I might ask again, Is it consistent with true lowliness of spirit,
to lay down the principle, as you have done in The Torrents,
that souls in the highest religious state may approach the Sacra
mental Communion, and partake of the sacred element without
special preparation ?
Madame Guyon. — I am entirely confident, sir, that the highest
religious experience is not and cannot by any possibility be
opposed to the truest humility. Further, I fully appreciate the
great importance of a careful and thorough preparation for the
Holy Eucharist. But still it does seem to me that a soul, wholly

OF MADAME GUYON. 349
devoted to God and living in the Divine presence, moment by j
moment, if it should be so situated as not to enjoy the ordinary .
season of preparatory retirement and recollection, would still be '
in a state to partake of the sacramental element.
Bossuet. — If you design, Madame, to limit the remark made
in The Torrents to some extromo case, it will bo regarded,
I suppose, as less objectionable. I have no other desire than
that of ascertaining what is true. I do not object to the doctrine
of Christian Perfection, or of Pure Love, or whatever other name
may be given to it, in its general form ; but I have serious
objections to particular views and forms of expression sometimes
connected with it. I find in your works modes of expression
which strike me as peculiar. Without delaying, therefore,, on
the general features of the doctrine, I will take the liberty to
direct your attention to a number of things which characterize
it, in part, as it appears in your writings. I find, in expression |
at least, what strikes me as very peculiar, that you make God
identical with events. You say that to the sanctified soul every- '
thing which exists, with the exception of sin, is God.
Madame Guyon. — It seems to me proper to observe, in the
first place, that the doctrines of sanctification are sometimes
erroneously or imperfectly represented in consequence of the
imperfection of language. As they are the doctrines of a life
almost unknown to the world, it is natural that they should
have no adequate terms and phrases ; so that we express our
selves awkwardly and with difficulty. Is it unreasonable, under
these circumstances, to ask the favour of a candid and charitable
interpretation ?
Bossuet. — I admit, Madame, the existence of the difficulty to
which you refer, and think it should be considered.
Madame Guyon. — With this concession on your part, I pro- ,
ceed to admit on mine, that the assertion, taken just as it stands,
namely, that every event is God, is not true ; even when made
with the exception of those things which are sinful. But I still
affirm that the expression has a definite and important mean
ing to the truly sanctified soul. Such a soul, in a manner and

350 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
. degree which ordinary Christians do not well understand, re
cognises the fact, that God sustains a definite relation to every
thing which takes place. God is in events ; and if He is the
centre and controller of the universe, He cannot be out of them.
The sanctified soul not only speculatively recognises the relation
of God to events, but feels it ; that is, it is brought into a
; practical and realized communion with God through them.
You will find this form of expression in the writings of Catharine
i of Genoa.
Bossuet. — I notice also that you sometimes speak as if the
[will of God, as well as outward events, were identical with God
himself. I think, Madame, you will perceive on reflection, that
' such statements, whatever may be said in defence of them, are
1 likely to be misunderstood, and, in point of fact, are not strictly
true. We always use the term man as including the whole of
man, and of course as including something more than the mere
will of man. In like manner, we use the term God as expres
sive of the whole of God, His intellect and affections, as well as
His will. So that to speak of the will of God, which is but
a part, as identical with God, which is the whole, is necessarily
erroneous. Madame Guyon. — I have no disposition to object to the cor-
'rectness of your remark. But I ought to say, perhaps, that in
speaking of the will of God as identical with God himself, I
used the terms in a mitigated or approximated and not in a
strict or absolute sense. But, while I make this concession, I
am still inclined to say, that practieally and religiously we may
accept the will of God as God himself, not only without injury,
but with some practical benefits.
Certain it is, that God is manifested in His will in a peculiar
sense. We can more easily make a distinction between God
and His power, and between God and His wisdom, than between
God and His will. The will or purpose of God, in a given case,
necessarily includes something more than tho mere act of willing :
it includes all that God can think in the case, and all that God
can feel in the case. And I must confess, that the will of God,

OF MADAME GUYON. 351
whenever and wherever made known, brings out to my mind
more distinctly and fully the idea, and presence, and fulness of
God, than anything else. This is so much the case, that,
whenever I meet with the will of God, I feel that I meet with
God ; whenever I respect and love the will of God, I feel that I
respect and love God ; whenever I unite with the will of God,
I feel that I unite with God. So that practically and religiously,
although I am aware that a difference can be made philosophi
cally, God and the will of God are to me the same. He who is i
in perfect harmony with the will of God, is as much in harmony
with God himself, as it is possible for any being to be. The
very name of God's will fills me with joy.
Bossuet. — I notice that the terms and phrases which you em- ,
ploy, sometimes differ from those with which I frequently meet '
in theological writings. And perhaps the reason, which you have
already suggested, explains it in part. But still they are liable
to be misunderstood and to lead into error ; and hence it is
necessary to ascertain precisely what is meant. You sometimes
describe what you consider the highest state of religious experi
ence as a state of passivity ; and at other times as passively
active. I confess, Madame, that I am afraid of expressions
which I 'do not fully understand, and have the appearance at
least of being somewhat at variance with man's moral agency
and accountability.
Madame Guyon. — I am not surprised, sir, at your reference
to these expressions ; and still I hardly know what other expres
sions to employ. I will endeavour to explain. In the early
periods of man's religious experience, he is in what may be called
a mixed life ; sometimes acting from God, but more frequently,
until he has made considerable advancement, acting from him-:
self. His inward movement, until it becomes corrected by Divine
grace, is self-originated, and is characterized by that perversion
which belongs to everything coming from that source. But
when the soul, in the possession of pure or perfect love, is fully
converted, and everything in it is subordinated to God, then its
state is always either passive or passively active.

352 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
But I am willing to concede, which will perhaps meet your
objection, that there are some reasons for preferring the term
passively active; because the sanctified soul, although it no
longer has a will of its own, is never strictly inert. Under all
circumstances and in all cases, there is really a distinct act on
the part of the soul, namely, an act of co-operation with God;
although, in some cases, it is a simple co-operation with what
now is, and constitutes the religious state of submissive acqui
escence and patience ; while in others it is a co-operation with
reference to what is to be, and implies future results, and conse
quently is a state of movement and performance.
Bossuet. — I think, Madame, I understand you. There is' a
distinction, undoubtedly, in the two classes of cases just men
tioned ; but as the term passively active will apply to both of
them, I think it is to be preferred. You use this complex term,
I suppose, because there are two distinct acts or operations to be
expressed, namely, the act of preparatory or prevenient grace on
the part of God, and the co-operative act on the part of the
creature ; the soul being passive, or merely perceptive, in the
former ; and active, although always in accordance with the
Divine leading, in the other.
Madame Guyon. — That is what I mean, sir ; and I feel obliged
to you for the explanation.
Bossuet. — Is your doctrine, then, in this particular, much dif
ferent from that of antecedent or prevenient grace, which we
generally find laid down in theological writers, and implies, in
its application, that there is no truly good act on the part of the
soul, except it be in co-operation with God ?
Madame Guyon. — I do not know that the difference is great ;
perhaps there is none at all. I am willing to acknowledge that
I am not much acquainted with theological writers.
Bossuet. — Would it not be desirable, Madame, that those who
exercise the function of public teachers should have such an
acquaintance ? As women are not in a situation to go through
a course of theological education, it has sometimes seemed to me
.that it would be well for. them to dispense with public missions.

OF MADAME GUYON. 353
Madame Guyon. — I do not doubt, sir, that your remark is .
well meant. The want of such qualifications as those to which
you refer, has frequently been with me a subject of serious con
sideration, and of some perplexity. Nevertheless I sincerely be
lieve, that it is God who has given me a message, in an humble
and proper way, to my fellow-beings ; but I am aware of its
imperfect utterance. But, in His great wisdom, He sometimes
makes use of feeble instruments. And I have thought, as He
condescended, on one occasion at least, to employ a dumb animal
to utter His truth, He might sometimes make use of a woman
for the satno purpose.
Bossuet-. — I merely refer to the subject, without wishing to
press it. I should be sorry to say anything which would imply
a limitation to the wisdom and providence of God.
Another thing in your writings is this. You speak of those
who are in the state of unselfish or pure love, which I suppose
you regard as the highest religious state, as contemplating the
pure Divinity ; implying in the remark that they contemplate God
in a different way from what is common with other Christians.
Madfitme Guyon. — What I mean is this. There are two ideas
of God ; the complex, and the simple or primary. In the order
of mental development, the complex is first ; but in the order of
nature, the simple or primary idea is first. The complex idea
is that which embraces God, not so much in Himself as in His
attributes, — His(power, wisdom, goodness, and truth. The be
ginners in the religious life are very apt to stop and rest in this
idea ; and they can hardly fail to lose by it. To think of God's
power, making His power a distinct and special subject of atten
tion, is not to think of God. To think of God's benevolence also,
in this specific and individualizing manner, is not to think of
God ; but is merely to think of a certain attribute which per
tains to Him. It is well understood, I suppose, that we may form
an idea of matter, in distinction from the attributes of matter ;
and that we may form an idea of mind, in distinction from the
attributes of mind ; — a notion or idea, which is simple and mi-
definable, it is true, but which has a real existence. And in like

354 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
manner we may form an idea of God, in distinction from the
attributes of God. It is not only possible to do this, but it is
impossible not to do it, on the appropriate occasions of doing it.
The very idea of an attribute implies an idea of a subject to
which the attribute belongs. To speak of the attributes of the
human mind or of God, independently of the idea of such mind
or of God considered as distinct from such attributes, would be
an absurdity. There are two ideas of God, therefore ; the one
of God as a subject, the primary idea, which is simple and unde-
finable ; the other of God as a combination of separate Divine
attributes, which is complex, and is consequently susceptible of
analysis and definition. God, revealed in the first idea, and
considered, not as a mere congeries of attributes, but as the sub
ject or entity of such attributes, is what I call the Pure Divinity.
Persons in the sanctified or unitive state, in distinction from the
meditative or mixed state, generally receive and rest in God as
developed in the first or primary idea. It is natural to them to
do so, and it is not more natural than it is appropriate and pro
fitable. When they depart from that idea, it is almost a matter
of course that they indulge in meditative and discursive acts,
which tend to separate them from the true centre ; and they
thus lose that consciousness of oneness with God.
Bossuet. — Permit me to ask, Madame, whether you mean iu
these remarks to discourage meditative and discursive acts, such
as are implied in an analysis and due consideration of the Divine
attributes ?
Madame Guyon. — Not at all. Such acts are very important ;
but they have their appropriate place, and are much more suited
to lower states of experience than that purified and contempla
tive state of which we are now speaking.
Bossuet. — The distinctions you have made, and the explana
tions you have given, although not obvious without considerable
reflection, seem to me reasonable and satisfactory. But I must
confess, that I cannot allege a personal acquaintance with that
experience which unites the soul with God as He is developed
in the primary or elementary idea.

OF MADAME GUYON. 355
Madame Guyon. — I hope, sir, that you will not take it amiss,
when I say, that I regret that you find it necessary thus to speak
of a defect of personal experience. The theology of the head
is often obscure and uncertain, without the interpretation of the
higher theology of the heart. The head sometimes errs ; but
a right heart never. ,
Bossuet. — I hope, Madame, that I have experienced some- ¦
thing of the grace of God ; but I am free to acknowledge, that
I have not arrived at what you and other writers who sym
pathize with your views, call t\\e fixed state. Is it possible, that
any one should believe, that Christians, however devoted they ,
may be, will arrive at a state in the present life, where there
are no vicissitudes, and perpetual sunshine ?
Madame Guyon. — In this form of expression, and others like i
it, it is not meant, that the sanctified soul is not characterized, ;
in its experience, by any vicissitudes whatever. But still, when 1
the soul has experienced this great grace, the mind is compara- '
tively at rest. Is a fixed state less desirable than an unfixed
state ? Is there anything to be especially commended in the (
changes, the alternations of energy and weakness, of faith and ,
unbelief, which characterize ordinary Christians? All that is:
meant is a state established, comparatively firm, based more upon
principle than upon feeling, and that lives more by faith than
emotion. Those who live by faith, who see God equally in the '
storm and ' the sunshine, and rejoice equally in both, know what [
I mean ; while those who do not, can hardly fail to be perplexed. :
Bossuet. — I will now mention one thing, which seems to me
worthy of special notice. Those who arrive at the highest reli
gious state are so far above the common wants, or rather suppose
themselves to be so, as not to recognise and urge them in acts of
supplication. But the Scriptures command us to pray always,
to pray without ceasing. The language of the Saviour is, " Ask,
and ye shall receive ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall
be opened unto you." It seems very clear, that prayer is a thing
not only of perpetual command, but of perpetual obligation.
Madame Guyon. — I am pleased, sir, that you have introduced

356 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
this subject. So far from the truth is it, that persons who have
'' experienced the blessing of pure or perfect love, cease to pray,
that it is much nearer the truth to say, that they pray always.
Certain it is, that the prayer is always in their hearts, although
it may not always be spoken. We sometimes call this state of
mind the prayer of silence. It is perhaps a prayer too deep for
words ; but it is not on that account to be regarded as no prayer.
Do you state your difficulty precisely as you wish to have it un
derstood ?
Bossuet. — It is not easy for me to understand what prayer is,
unless it be specific. And in order to give my difficulty a pre
cise shape, I will say, that the system of present sanctification,
or pure love, seems to exclude specific requests.
Madame Guyon. — And, supposing it to be so, which is not the
I case, is that state of mind to be thought lightly of, which does
not ask for particular things ? — which says to the Lord conti
nually, I do not ask for this or that, I have no desire or petition
for anything in particular, but desire and choose for myself only
what God desires and chooses? I admit that this, in general,
is the state of mind in those who have experienced the blessing
of a perfectly renovated life. Their state of mind is one of
praise rather than of petition. They have asked, and have
received. If, at a given time, they ask for nothing in particular,
it is because they are full now.
Persons in this state of mind cannot easily separate God's will
from what now is. What God gives them now, He wills to give
them now; and in that will, which always excludes sin, but
often permits temptation and suffering, they are satisfied ; they
rest. They experience in themselves the fulfilment of those
blessed directions of the Saviour, which none but a holy heart
can fully receive and appreciate : —
" Wherefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or,
what shall we drink ? or, wherewithal shall we be clothed ? (for
all these things do the Gentiles seek ;) for your heavenly Father
knoweth that you have need of all these things. But seek ye
first the kingdom of God and his righteousness ; and all these

OF MADAME GUYON. 357
things shall be added unto yon. Take, therefore, no thought
for the morrow ; for the morrow shall take thought for the things
of itself."
In these words there is to my mind a Divine meaning, such
as the world does not understand. Take my own situation. My
wants are already supplied, richly, abundantly, and running
over. What can I ask for when my soul rests in God, and is filled
with the fulness of God ; and when He leaves me neither time
nor strength for anything but to receive His favours, and to
bless Him ?
Bossuet. — Will you permit me to ask, in connexion with one
of your remarks, whether you mean literal fulness ?
Madame Guyon. — I do not know, sir, that I understand the
precise import of your question.
Bossuet. — I am led, Madame, to ask the question, by an asso
ciation suggested by your expressions. In reading your Life, I
notice that upon more than one occasion you speak of such
effusions of grace, that your very physical system dilated, as it
were, and enlarged with them, so as to render it necessary to
relieve yourself by some readjustments of. your apparel.
Madame Guyon. — I recollect that there was a time in my re
ligious experience, when my emotions were so strong, that my
physical system was, on one or two occasions, very much affected ;
so that I obtained some relief in the way you have mentioned.
And as, in writing my Life, my Director required me to be very
particular and to write everything, I thought myself bound to
mention the circumstance. Nor do I know that there is any
thing very astonishing in the fact. Eemarkable effects are some- j
times produced upon the physical system by excited natural ,
emotions, as well as those which are religious. I was quite
overcome ; and it was necessary for my friends to render me
assistance as seemed to them best ; but I do not consider emo
tive excitement as always identical with true religions experience, ¦
and still less with the highest kind of experience. Great phy- (
sical agitation, originating in strong emotions, is generally con-
nected, either directly or indirectly, either at the time or at some

358 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
! antecedent period, with a high degree of inward resistance. But,
in the highest degree of experience, all such resistance is taken
away ; and there is quietness, such as the world does not know ;
a great inward and outward calm.
Bossuet. — Let us return to the subject of which we were
speaking. If I understand you, your soul rests : that is, is satis
fied with what it now has in God ; and you have nothing to
pray for in particular.
Madame Guyon. — I think the term rest expresses this state
very well. It is the rest of faith. But such a state does not
exclude prayer. On the contrary, the sanctified soul is, by the
very fact of its sanctification, the continual subject of that prayer
which includes all other, namely, Thy will be done. When the
whole Church can utter that prayer with a true heart, the world
will be renovated. I wish, however, to correct what may per
haps be an error in your view of the subject. This prayer is
not at all inconsistent with specific prayer. God, who has a
regard to our situation and the relations we sustain, and has the
control of the mind that has given all up to Himself, does not
fail to inspire the consecrated soul with specific desires appro
priate to times, places, and persons.
Bossuet. — You will notice that it is not so much my object to
criticise your explanations as to receive them ; and, where I do
not regard them as entirely satisfactory, to make them the sub
ject of future meditation. I proceed, then, to say that the state
of mind which you advocate is supposed to lead to inaction.
Madame Guyon. — I do not readily see, sir, how such a state
ment could well apply to myself, who have hardly known, what
ever may be true of my mind, what it is to rest outwardly and
physically. Bossuet. — I think, Madame, it will not ; but such an impres
sion could hardly arise without some foundation for it. And I
should be glad to hear what can be said of an idea which is cer
tainly an unfavourable one.
Madame Guyon. — The foundation, sir, of this idea is in the
fact, I suppose, that the truly holy soul ceases from all action,

OF MADAME GUYON. 359
which has its origin in merely human impulse. It is the charac
teristic of souls which are in this state, that they move as they
are moved upon by the Holy Ghost. " As many as are led by
the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God." (Rom. viii. 14.)
They move, therefore, in God's order ; neither falling behind by
indolence, nor precipitated by impetuosity. They move in God's
Spirit, because they are sustained by faith ; . benevolent, just,
immutable in their purpose, so far as immutability can be pre
dicated of anything that is human, but always without violence.
Such sometimes appear inactive, because their action is without
noise. But they are God's workmen — the true builders in His
great and silently-rising temple ; and they leave an impression
which, although it is not always marked and observable at the
time, is deep, operative, and enduring. In this respect, at least,
I think we may say that they are formed in the Divine likeness.
God is the great operator of the universe ; but what He does, is
generally done in silence. The true kingdom of God comes
" without observation." "
Bossuet. — I will not pursue these inquiries farther at present,
except in one particular. Some expressions, Madame, in your
writings, seem to imply the extinction of all desire. Man is a
perceptive and sentient being ; and I do not hesitate to say, that
the extinction of all desire, so far from rendering him more
religious, would render him a brute.
Madame Guyon. — This difficulty is almost identical with one
already considered ; still it may not be improper to give it a
separate notice. Those who have gained the inward victory,
very frequently speak of the extinction of desire as a charac
teristic of this state, and as an evidence of it. How can those
desire, who already have everything ? How can those be in
want who are already full ? But I suppose that their meaning is,
and can be, only this. They have lost all natural or unsancti-
fied desire. They do not desire anything in themselves and of
themselves ; anything out of God, in the Bense of being irrespec
tive of His will.
Bossuet. — Why, then, do they not say what they mean? The:

360 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
I form of expression, as we frequently find it, is certainly a pecu
liar one.
Madame Guyon. — In the first place, sir, if their meaning is
understood, as I think it would be likely to be by most persons,
the more concise expression is the preferable one. But there is
perhaps a special reason for their expressing themselves in the
manner they do. The state in which they are is not only one
of right or sanctified desire, but of very strong faith. Their
faith necessarily takes the form of believing that everything in
their situation, with the exception of sin, is in accordance with
God's will, and cannot be otherwise. Consequently all their
desires are perfectly met in the occurrences of each moment ;
and this is done, not only so perfectly but so quickly, that the
desire and the fulfilment of the desire are not very distinct in
the consciousness, but seem to be mingled together ; so much so
that the person does not, in general, have a distinct recollection
of the desire. Hence it is natural for such persons, for this rea
son, as well as because all unsanctified desires are in reality
dead, to speak of their being without desire.
A number of other topics were taken up in the course of the
conversation. One was the transmission of Divine grace from
herself to others, which she had spoken of in her writings, as if
it were a perceptible or sensible transmission ; adding, that the
Divine power or influence, which was transmitted through her
self as an instrument, returned back with all its blessedness to
her own soul, when it was not received by others. The difficulty
is, that she describes things as they seemed to be, and not as
they really are ; and thus gave to the spiritual operation a sen
sible or material character, which is not appropriate to it.
When, for instance, she was in the company of persons seri
ously disposed, but still without religion, her mind was not only
prayerful, but sad and burdened on their behalf. When she
witnessed in these persons a disposition to receive the truth, she
at once experienced relief; her prayer was answered ; the bur
den was removed. So that apparently, and looking at tho sub
ject in the merely human light, something seemed to pass sen-

OF MADAME GUYON. 36 1
Bibly and literally from herself to others. And describing the
thing according to the appearance, rather than according to the
fact, she justly gave occasion for the inquiries and criticisms of
Bossuet. Another matter of inquiry was this. While she freely spoke
of the subjection of her natural selfish life, and of her renovation
and union of spirit with the Divine life, some passages in her
writings seemed to imply, that there was such a want of any
thing remarkable in her state, that she found it difficult to de
scribe it or speak of it. She says, for instance, in her Autobio
graphy, " My state has become simple, and without any varia
tions. It is a profound annihilation. I find nothing in myself
to which I can give a name."
She explained these passages by saying, that they were to be
understood in a comparative sense. Beginners in the religious
life are necessarily inquisitive, agitated, active, but often spas
modic and variable in their action, and full of various kinds of
emotion. It is obvious, therefore, that almost every day and
hour presents something in their experience, which may be
made the subject of notice and of interesting conversation. But
the soul, in a higher state of experience, has reduced the multi
plicity and agitations of nature to the one simple principle of
union with God's will by faith. God is immutable ; therefore
there is a centre of rest.
The beginners in science, in the mathematics for instance,
advance from step to step with great effort. Their efforts attract
notice, because they are made in various ways, and under a
variety of motives and excitements. When they miss in their
calculations, they are depressed with sorrow. When they are
successful, and find their problems fully solved, they run to tell
their neighbours, and sometimes shout with joy. But it is not
so with the great masters of the science, a Newton for instance,
These last, while they are inwardly thoughtful and operative,
are nevertheless always calm, and often silent ; because they are
not seekers and progressers in the ordinary sense of the terms,
but have the mathematics in themselves. And so in relation to

362 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
anything else; religion among other things. The more we
know and possess of it, the greater is our simplicity and rest of
spirit. It was in this way that she endeavoured to explain her own
state. The life of faith, when faith is perfect, is a very simple
one. The principle of faith is to the soul, considered in its re
lation to God, what the principle of gravitation is to the physical
universe ; uniting all,. harmonizing all, but always without con
fusion and noise, and with the greatest simplicity of operation.
In giving some account of her own state, she uses an illustra
tion which is worthy of some notice, although I am not sure
that it is in all respects an appropriate one. Bossuet was ex
amining her on the point of her inability to originate, by her
own movement, distinct inward acts. In explaining herself,
she said that the truly purified soul, in the simplicity of its
temper and in its relations to God, seemed to her to be like the
pure water.
I " Nothing," she says, " is more simple than water ; nothing
is more pure. In this respect it may be regarded as an emblem
of the holy soul. 7 But this is not all. /Among other things,
water has the property of yielding readily and easily to all im
pressions which can be made upon it. And here we have
another striking incident of resemblance. As water yields with
inconceivable readiness to the slightest human touch, so does
the holy soul yield, without any resistance, to the slightest touch
of God j that is to say, to the slightest intimations of the Divine
will. Again, water is without colour ; but it is susceptible of
all colours, i So the holy soul, colourless in itself, reflects the
hues, whatever they may be, which emanate from the Divine
countenance. < Again, water has no form ; but takes the form
of the vessels, almost endless in variety, in which it is contained.
So the holy soul takes no position or form of itself, but only that
which God gives it."
And these statements she did not hesitate to apply to herself.
Her soul had nothing of itself. It had its form, its brightness,
and its movement in God. What God desired, she desired ;

OF MADAME GUYON. 363
what God willed, she willed ; what God said, she said. Her
business was co-operation, not origination. There was a voice
in her spirit, inaudible but always heard, or rather inaudible
to men, but always heard by Him who inspired it, which re
sponded, in harmony with all holy beings, with a universal
and eternal Amen.
This conference continued the whole afternoon and evening.
It was a trying day to Madame Guyon. The acute and dis
criminating mind of Bossuet, formed to grapple with the most
difficult subjects, subjected her to an examination such as she
had never passed through before. But he had the satisfaction
of finding her, to a degree beyond his anticipations, ready to .
acknowledge where she was wrong, to explain where she was
obscure, and to defend herself where she knew and felt herself
to be right. But still it was a season which required quickness
of thought, entire purity of intention, and religious patience.
Bossuet, who had been an instructor of princes, was no;
stranger to the presence and intercourse of polite and courtly
men ; but still he was more addicted to books than to society,
and thought more of arguments than of manners. He was a
great man, but, accustomed to the supremacy of his intellectual
power, he was apt to be dictatorial and rough in his greatness.
And this ponderous roughness of manner, which corresponded
well with the weighty and strong movement of his intellectual
action, was but little conciliated and softened by the presence
and the finer sensibilities of woman.
Madame Guyon refers to this peculiarity of Bossuet, not ini
the way of complaint, but merely in explanation of what she
endured in this and some subsequent conferences. " He was
evidently," she says, " unfavourably affected towards me by the
secret efforts of some persons. He spoke almoBt with violence,'
and very fast, arid hardly gave me time to explain some things ,
which I wished to explain. I was so agitated, in one or two
instances, by his authoritative and apparently dictatorial manner,
that I entirely lost my recollection. We parted from each other
very late in the evening ; and I returned home so wearied and

364 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
i overcome with what had passed between us, that I was sick for
several days."
Bossuet seems, in general, notwithstanding his prepossessions,
' to have been satisfied with this interview.
" As there were some things," she says, " which he could not
understand, or to which he could not reconcile himself, I wrote
several letters to him after this interview, in which I endea
voured to elucidate these difficulties. He was so kind as to
send me a long letter in return, of more than twenty pages, from
which it very clearly appears that he was somewhat embarrassed
by the newness of the subject, and in consequence of the imper
fect knowledge he had of the interior ways of the Holy Spirit,
of which none are able to judge except from experience."
This suggestion, which implies a want of intellectual percep-
I tion on the part of Bossuet, arising from a want of inward
experience, may sound strange. And truth requires us to say,
if we may judge from the evidences of a serious and consistent
life, that, if he was eminently learned and intellectual, he was
also decidedly moral and religious. At the same time, it is
entirely evident that he would have understood and appreciated
his opponents better, particularly Madame Guyon, if he had
stood in the same rank in the gradations of inward experience.
It is impossible for a man to philosophize correctly on the natural
passions, who has had no knowledge of them himself. And it
is the same in religion. In order to describe religion, we must
first know it ; and to describe it and elucidate it in its different
degrees, we must know it in those degrees.
A short time after this interview, she was seized with a vio
lent fever. It continued forty days. It seemed probable that
she would not recover. Her soul rested calmly in God ; never
more so than when the great change appeared near at hand.
She was enabled to dictate a few letters, to be sent to her reli
gious friends. In them she expressed the earnest prayer, that
God would finish in those to whom she thus wrote, the good
work which He had begun. She said, if she had been the
instrument of any good to them, she was merely an instrument,

OF MADAME GUYON. 365
and the honour belonged to God alone ; and it was her prayer,
that He might fully accomplish and preserve that which was
His own, namely, the spirit of an entire renunciation of them
selves. She exhorted them to bear the cross patiently, and to
follow Jesus Christ with hearts filled with His pure love. If
she should be taken from them now, she wished them to look
upon it as an event illustrating anew the wisdom and goodness
of God ; and was desirous, while they turned their thoughts
and hearts to Him as the source of all truth and all good, that
they would cease to think of her, and would let her pass from
their memory as a thing unknown.

CHAPTER XLIII.
1695 — Opposition continues — Louis xiv. appoints three commissioners. Bossuet, De Noailles,
and Tronson, to examine her doctrines — Their character — She lays before them the
work entitled Justifications — The first meeting of tho commissioners— Exclusion of the
Duke of Chevreuse — Course taken by Bossuet — Interviews subsequently with the Bishop
of Ohnlons and Tronson — No condemnation pasBed at this time — Of the articles of Issy —
Retires for a time to the Convent of St. Mary in Meaux— Her remarks on a charge of
hypocrisy made against her — Poem.
Whatever impressions might have been left upon the mindj
of Bossuet by these conferences, they did not satisfy the public.
Madame Guyon was almost universally considered as the teacher
of a new doctrine. Her character was assailed, as well as her
doctrine. She wrote, therefore, to Madame de Maintenon, re
questing that a number of suitable persons might be selected ;
for the purpose of judging both of her doctrine and morals ; and i
offering to submit to any confinement and restraint, until it \
should please the king to appoint such persons.
To this request Madame de Maintenon returned an answer to
the Duke of Chevreuse, who was instructed to inform Madame
Guyon, that she had laid the subject before the king, who not
only approved of a new examination of her writings, but thought

366 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
that persons eminent for their virtues and talents should be em
ployed on the occasion. And, accordingly, in a short time he
appointed three commissioners, Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, Mon
sieur Tronson, Superior of the Seminary of St. Sulpitius, and
Monsieur de Noailles, Bishop of Chalons, to make inquiries, and
to do what they thought proper in the case.
The persons were all eminent men. The Bishop of Chalons
was afterwards appointed Archbishop of Paris, and subsequently
a Cardinal. The Superior of St. Sulpitius was a man eminent
alike for his talents and virtues. Of Bossuet we have already
had occasion to speak.
The selection of such distinguished men was itself a marked
tribute, at least to the great intellectual power and personal in
fluence of Madame Guyon.
Madame Guyon sent, at their request, the manuscript of her
Autobiography, so far as it was then written, her book on Prayer,
The Torrents, and manuscript Commentaries. At this time she
prepared with great labour her valuable work, entitled, Justifi
cations of the Doctrine of Madame Guyon. In this she endea
vours to sustain and justify her views, by quotations from a
multitude of writers on experimental religion ; not omitting even
the Greek and Latin Fathers. She sustains herself, in particular,
by references to the writings of St. Dionysius, St. Bernard, John
Climacus, Catharine of Genoa, John of the Cross, St. Theresa,
Henry Suso, Thomas-a-Kempis, Gerson, Ruysbroke, Thauler,
John de S. Samson, Harphius, Blosius, Ruis de Montoya, and
' others. She writes, " In order to facilitate the examination, and spare
the commissioners as much time and trouble as I could, I col
lected together a great number of passages out of approved
spiritual writers, for the purpose of showing that my own state
ments and views were in accordance with those of sucli writers,
and with the Holy Scriptures. It was a large work. Having
written it out, I caused it to be transcribed on separate quires of
paper, and sent in this manner to the three commissioners. By
remarks appended to these extracts, I endeavoured to clear up

OF MADAME GUYON. 367
some doubtful and obscure passages in my writings. When I
first wrote, the troubles in relation to Michael de Molinos had
not broken out ; so that I used less precaution in expressing my
thoughts than I might otherwise have done, not imagining that
my expressions would be turned into an evil sense. This work
was entitled the Justifications. It cost me fifty days' labour ;
but it seemed to me sufficient to clear up and establish my
case." The first meeting of the commissioners was appointed in
August 1694, at the house of Bossuet ; probably in his own
diocese, and in Means. At the appointed time, Madame Guyon
went there, accompanied by the Duke of Chevreuse. The
Bishop of Chalons came also ; but Tronson was sick, and did
not come.
Bossuet was not at home when they arrived. This gave
Madame Guyon a favourable opportunity to explain her senti
ments to the Bishop of Chalons, who was a man of candour as
well as piety. He listened kindly and patiently to her remarks ;
uniting the civility of the gentleman and tbe Christian with a
sincere disposition to do justice.
Towards evening Bossuet came in. After a little time spent
in general conversation, he opened a packet, apparently contain
ing papers in relation to their meeting. He then turned to the
Duke of Chevreuse, and observed that the affair, having rela
tion to matters of doctrine, was entirely ecclesiastical ; and as the
decision of such cases belonged exclusively to bishops, he did
not think it proper for one who was not a bishop to be present.
The presence of any person, not a member of the commission,
would tend to interrupt and diminish their freedom. The Duke
of Chevreuse was not a man either to resist such an intimation,
or to be offended at it, and very readily withdrew.
Madame Guyon was somewhat affected at this incident. And
recollecting how much she had suffered, both physically and
mentally, in her former interviews with Bossuet, she thought she
needed the presence and assistance of some one who understood
both her character and opinions. The Duke of Chevreuse, in

368 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
compliance with her earnest request, had kindly consented to
render his aid. De Noailles seems to have had no objection to
his being present, but did not openly advocate it ; Bossuet was
entirely decided, and would not consent to it.
" I was greatly surprised," says Madame Guyon, " at the ex
clusion of the Duke. I must confess that the reason assigned for
his exclusion seemed to me rather a pretence, than a reason
assigned in good faith. I could not but think that the Bishop
of Meaux was unwilling to have present a man of such an esta
blished character, who might afterwards be a witness to the
world of what passed between us. What could be more natural
than the presence of a person so eminent in the world, so famous
both for piety and learning, so greatly interested in the clearing
up of these matters, that both lie and others might be undeceived,
if, against my intention, I had instilled notions into them con
trary to the purity of the faith ? Such a witness might have
served to confound me, if I had spoken differently from what he
had been accustomed to h'ear me speak. He might have been
undeceived himself, and been instrumental in undeceiving others,
if in these peaceable conferences I had been convicted of errors.
This was one of the things proposed and anticipated, when the
measure of appointing commissioners to examine me was first
suggested. But why do I thus allude to subordinate instru
ments, as disappointing my expectations ? We are apt to look
at men and at men's doings. It was God who did not permit
them.'' The Bishop of Meaux exhibited his characteristic vivacity of
expression and manner ; so much so, as sometimes, in the opinion
of Madame Guyon, to violate the ordinary rules of kindness and
civility. For instance, she observes, " I was then proceeding to
show the bishop that the doctrines in my writings were in con
formity with those which appear in other approved writers on
inward experience. lie replied to my remarks, that he was
much surprised at my ignorance. And not satisfied with dis
tinctly asserting my want of knowledge, he did not hesitate to
cast ridicule upon my modes of expression ; and obviously en-

OF MADAME GUYON. 369
deavoured to darken, and lo turn into mere jargon, everything
which I said ; especially when he observed that Monsieur do
Noailles began to be touched and affected by the turn of our
conversation. When I am treated in this violent manner, I am
apt to become confused and forgetful. And, accordingly, I
thought it proper to drop the discourse with Bossuet, and said
nothing." " De Noailles," she adds, " treated me with all possible civility.
When I directed my conversation to him, he took the pains to
write down some of my answers. Noticing the rough manner
of Bossuet, he endeavoured to soften and ward off the blows
from me, as much as he could."
After this conference, she adds, " I went to see the Bishop of
Chalons again. I found him alone, and had a free conversation
with him. Although somo persons had tried to projudice him
against me, he appeared to bo well satisfied, and repeated several
times that he saw nothing which required to be changed, either
in my views of prayer, or in anything 'else. He suggested, how
ever, that, in consequence of tho existing state of things, it might
be well for me to live in a manner as retired as possible, but
that, in other respects, I should go on as I had done ; and said,
that he would pray to God to augment His goodness towards
me." She had not as yet seen the other commissioner, Monsieur
Tronson. It was thought proper, therefore, that she should visit
him at his country residence at the village of Issy, not far from
Paris. She was attended there by the Duke of Chevreuse. She
says, " I conversed with Monsieur Tronson with all the freedom
imaginable. He was very particular and exact in his examina
tions, more so than the others. Formal questions were put, and
answers corresponding to them were given, which were taken
down in writing by the Duke of Chevreuse. When the exami
nation was completed, the Duke made the remark to Monsieur
Tronson, ' You cannot fail to see, sir, as it seems to me, the evi
dences of her sincerity and uprightness.' He answered, ' I feel
it Well.' And that expression was not unworthy of this distin-
2 A

370 LIFE AND RBLIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
guished servant of God, who judged, in relation to the matter
before him, not only by his understanding, but by the feelings of
his heart. I then took my leave, with the consolation of believing,
from his appearance at least, that Monsieur Tronson was well
satisfied, although a forged letter against me had been sent to
him." Such were the favourable sentiments of De Noailles and
Tronson towards her, that no condemnation of any kind was
passed at this time. Still the public voice, generally clamorous
beyond what is just, was not silenced.
" After these successive examinations, " says Madame Guyon,
" which resulted in proving nothing against me, it would have
been a natural supposition that my opposers would leave me at
peace. But it was quite otherwise. So far from being propi
tiated, either by the defect of evidences against me, or by the
evidences in my favour, they seemed to be inspired with new
energy in their hostile efforts. Nothing was proved ; but the
Bishop of Meaux was not entirely satisfied. Under these cir
cumstances, it seemed to me best to propose to him to put myself
for a time under his more immediate inspection. I made the
offer to take up my residence within his diocese, in some reli
gious house or community, in order that he might become the
better acquainted with me. He seemed pleased with the plan,
and proposed that I should become for a time a temporary resi
dent in the Convent of St. Mary, in Meaux. Perhaps his readi
ness to accept this proposal was not altogether disinterested.
Supposing that, if it were carried into effect, it would tend to
allay the existing excitement and alarm, he remarked to Mother
Elizabeth Pickard, the prioress of the convent, that it would be
as good to him as the Archbishopric of Paris or a cardinal's hat.
When she told me of it, I replied, God will not permit him to
have either the one or the other."
The result verified the remark. It seemed to the commis
sioners, that something further remained to be done. The king,
at least, would expect something more. They agreed, therefore,
to continue their meetings for the purpose of considering such

OF MADAME CHJYON. 371
topics, in the hopes that something might be agreed upon, which
should furnish a common basis of belief and action.
On account of the ill health of Monsieur Tronson, their con
ferences were continued at Issy. The result of their delibera- .
tions, which came before the public in the course of a few
months, was the document, which was afterwards so frequently,
mentioned in the debates of that period, under the denomination '
of the Articles of Issy.
These celebrated articles, thirty-four in number, indicate the;
views of the authors of them on the subject of pure love, or
the highest inward experience. They are drawn up with care,
and express, in a manner unexceptionable, some of the leading
ideas in the doctrines of a holy life. If they are defective, it is
not so much by what they say, as by what they leave unsaid. '
The express the truth, but not the whole truth. There are some
points in inward experience which they do not reach. With '
this view of them, Madame Guyon gave her assent to them,
when presented to her some time after this.
Meaux is twenty-five miles north-cast from Paris, on the
Marne. For that place Madame Guyon set out in January
1695, accompanied by the faithful maid-servant, La Gautiere,
who had shared in her labours and travels for the past fourteen
years. The conveyance in which they travelled became in
volved in the snows, and could not at once be extricated ; so that
they were detained some hours, and suffered much from the cold.
Being obliged to leave the carriage, " we sat upon the snow,"
she says, " resigned to the mercy of God, and expecting nothing
but death. The snow melted upon our garments ; and both of
us, the girl and myself, were exceedingly chilled ; but I never
had more tranquillity of mind. My poor maid was also entirely
submissive and quiet, although we saw no likelihood of any one
coming to our succour, and were sure of dying if we remained
there. Occasions like these are such as show whether we are
perfectly resigned to God or not. At length some waggoners
came up, who with difficulty drew us through the drift. It was
ten o'clock at night when we arrived at Meaux. The people of

372 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
the convent, who had received some notice of our coming, had
given over expecting us, and had retired to rest."
After considerable delay, the nuns were called up, the bishop
was informed of their arrival, and they were formally admitted.
In speaking of Bossuet, Madame Guyon says, " He had his
good intervals, but he was not beyond the reach of personal and
interested motives. And in regard to myself, I cannot doubt
that he was under the influence of persons who endeavoured to
excite him against me."
In this remark she probably had in mind an observation
said to have dropped from him, that her coming to Meaux so
promptly, and in such uncomfortable weather, was a mere arti
fice ; indicating a readiness to fall in with his wishes, and to take
a proper course, which did not really exist.
The charge of artifice, or rather of hypocrisy, coming from a
man of so high character, naturally arrested her attention. It
was perhaps a false, or at least an exaggerated report ; but she
believed it, at the time, to be true. She makes the following
remarks upon it : —
" Those men, who look at the tree with an evil eye, account
its fruits to be evil. I am said to be charged with being a
hypocrite. But by what evidence is the charge supported ? It
is certainly a strange hypocrisy, which voluntarily spends its life
in suffering ; which endures the cross in its various forms, the
calumny, the poverty, the persecution, and every kind of afflic
tion, without any reference to worldly advantages. I think one
has never seen such a hypocrisy as this before.
, " So far as I understand the subject, hypocrites have generally
two objects in view : one is to acquire money, the other is to
acquire popularity. If such are the leading elements involved
in hypocrisy, I must do myself the justice to say, that I disclaim
any acquaintance witli it. I call God to witness, that I would
not have endured what it has been my lot to endure, if by so
doing I could have been made empress of the whole earth, or
have been canonized while living. It was not earth, but God
that called me. I heard a voice which I could not disobey. I

OF MADAME GUYON. 373
desired to please God alone ; and I sought Him, not for what He
might give me, but only for Himself. I had rather die, than do
anything against His will. This is the sentiment of my heart ; a
sentiment which no persecutions, no trials, have made mo alter. (
" It is true, that my feeble nature has sometimes been greatly
burdened. Sorrows have come in upon me like a flood. I have
been obliged to say with the Psalmist, g All thy waves and thy
billows have gone over me ; ' and with Jeremiah, ' Thou hast
caused the arrows of thy quiver to enter into my reins J Being
accounted by everybody a transgressor, I was made to walk in
the path of my suffering Saviour, who was condemned by the
sovereign pontiff, by the chief priests, the doctors of the law,
and the judges deputed by the Romans. But the love of God
rendered my sorrows sweet. His invisible hand has supported
me. My purpose has remained unchanged. Happy are they
who are sharers with Christ in suffering."
THE ACQUIESCENCE OF PURE LOVE.
[From the Translations of her poems by Cowper.]
Love ! if thy destined sacrifice am I,
Come, slay thy victim, and prepare thy fires ;
Plunged in thy depths of mercy, let me die
The death which every soul that lives, desires.
I watch my hours, and see them fleet away ;
The time is long that I have languish'd here ;
Yet all my thoughts thy purposes obey.
With no reluctance, cheerful and sincere.
To me 'tis equal, whether love ordain
My life or death, appoint me pain or ease ;
My soul perceives no real ill in pain ;
In ease or health no real good she sees.
One pood she covets, and that good alone —
To choose thy will, from selfish bias free ;
And to prefer a cottage to a throne,
And grief to comfort, if it pleases thee.
That we should bear the cross is thy command,
Dio to the world, and live to self no more ;
Suffer, unmoved, beneath the rudest hand :
When shipwreck'd pleased, as when upon tho shore.

374 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE

CHAPTER XLIV.
1695 — Sickness — Visited by Bossuet — Singular conversation — Rcforenco to a sermon of
Bossuet— Receives recommendations from him and tbe prioress and nuns— Leaves Menuv
for Paris — Excitement occasioned — Conceals herself live months — Seized by order of the
king, and imprisoned in the Castlo of Vincennes — State of her mind — Poems.
In the convent at Meaux, she remained six months as a
voluntary resident. It was suggested by Bossuet that it might
be desirable for her to remain there three months ; but, further
than that, there was no limitation of time suggested ; but she
was free to leave whenever she pleased. From the middle of
January to the last of February, she was sick. After her re
covery Bossuet came one day to the convent, and showed her a
Pastoral Ordinance and Letter (the same undoubtedly usually
prefixed to his work, entitled, Instructions on Prayer), in which
he had noticed and condemned some of the prevalent religious
errors, as he considered them.
He asked her to add her signature to the letter, accompanied
by certain statements which would involve the idea that she had
fallen into the very errors named in it. To this she very natur
ally objected. She said, however, that she would add at the
end of his pastoral letter whatever she could properly place
there. She accordingly wrote a few words, expressive probably
of her desiro to know and to teach the truth only, and of her
readiness to submit to the decisions of the Church, and added her
name. Bossuet, taking up the paper, said it was very well, with
the exception that she did not say, as she ought to have done, that
she was a heretic ; — adding, that it was his desire and expecta
tion that she would acknowledge herself guilty of all the errors
condemned in the Pastoral Letter.
" I am quite certain, sir," replied Madame Guyon, " that you
say this merely to try my feelings. I came into your diocese,
and placed myself under your care, in order that you might the
more readily and fully ascertain my character and life. Is it

Or MADAME GUYON. 375
possible that a prelate will so abuse the good faith thus reposed
in him, as to try to compel me to do things which my conscience
requires me not to do ? I hoped to find in you a father ; and
I trust that I shall not be deceived."
" I am a father," said Bossuet ; " but I am a father of the
Church. But, in short, it is not a question of words. It is not
a thing to be talked about, but to be done. All I can say is, if
you do not sign what I require, I will come with witnesses ;
and, after having admonished you before them, I will inform
the Church of you, and we will cut you off as we are directed
in the Gospel."
" Then," said Madame Guyon, " I can appeal to God alone
as the witness of my sincerity. I have nothing farther to say.
I am ready to suffer for Him. And I hope He will grant me
the favour to let me do nothing against my conscience. I say
this, I hope, without departing from the respect I owe to you as
a bishop." Bossuet, finding her resolute, then proposed that she should
admit and declare that there were errors in the Latin work of
La Combe on inward experience. This also she refused ; and
he turned and went away in anger.
The nuns of St. Mary stood by, and beheld this interview
with great interest, and with some degree of astonishment. The
Prioress remarked to Madame Guyon, that her too great mild- ,
ness emboldened the bishop to treat her in that rough manner ;
adding that his mind was of such a cast, that he was apt to be
violent with those who were meek and quiet, but more gentle/
with those who were courageous and firm of purpose.
He came afterwards in the same spirit, and with the same
demands ; and met with the same prompt refusal. He then,
yielding either to his sense of justice, or to the necessity of the
case, took a different course. He gave Madame Guyon to un
derstand, although he was not himself altogether satisfied with
her views, that he should have less to say, and should express
less dissatisfaction, if her enemies would permit him to rest. In '¦
one of his letters to the Prioress, he said expressly that " he had

376 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
.examined the writings of Madame Gnyon with great care, and
found in them nothing censurable, except some terms which
were not wholly conformed to the strictness of theology ; but
, that a woman was not expected to be a theologian."
At a certain time, when the nuns and the prioress were con
versing with him about her, he said, " I regard her just as you
do ; I soe nothing wrong in her conduct ; but her enemies tor
ment mo, and wish me to find evil in her." He testified also
to the Archbishops of Paris and Sens, that he esteemed her
much, and had been edified by her.
. Madame Guyon understood well the intellectual power of
Bossuet. He was the first orator in France ; perhaps the first
: in the world at that time. She speaks of a sermon which she
heard him preach at Meaux, as one of astonishing power. It
arrested her attention the more, because it was on the subject
( the most interesting to her — that of the higher forms of inward
' experience. It was on the occasion of the celebration of the
mass. " He stated things in it," she says, " much more strongly
than I had myself done. He said that he was not master of
himself under the view which was then spread around him of
: those awful mysteries ; and that, under such circumstances, he
: was obliged to confess and announce the great truths of God,
1 even if they should be against and should condemn himself."
. The Prioress of the convent was present at this time. She
asked Bossuet how ho could persecute Madame Guyon, when it
was obvious that ho himself preached the same sentiments. lie
answered that it was not anything in himself which did it, but
the violence of her enemies.
In these more propitious dispositions, after nearly six months'
1 residence at Meaux, he gave her a paper or certificate with his
name subscribed, in which, while he did not explicitly condemn
her doctrines, and made indeed but slight references to them, he
spoke in very favourable terms of her character and conduct. As
tho time of her departure from Meaux approached, the prioress
and nuns of the convent, who esteemed her very much, gave
her another certificate. It was in the following terms : —

OF MADAME GUYON. 377
" We, the prioress and nuns of the Visitation of St. Mary of
Meaux, certify that Madame Guyon, having lived in our house,
by order of our Lord Bishop of Meaux, our illustrious prelate
and superior, during the space of six months, far from giving us
any cause of trouble or uneasiness, has afforded us much edifi
cation. We have remarked, in all her conduct and in all her
words, a great regularity, simplicity, sincerity, mortification,
meekness, and Christian patience ; a true devotion and esteem
for whatever pertains to our most holy faith, especially the mys
tery of the incarnation and of the holy infancy of our Lord Jesus
Christ. It would be a favour and of great satisfaction to our
whole community, if the said lady would choose, as a place of
retreat, to spend the rest of her days in our house. This pro
testation is made without any other view than that of giving !
testimony to the truth.
" Done this 7th of July, and signed,
" Frances Elizabeth Le Piukard, Prioress.
Sister Magdalen Aimee Gueton.
Sister Claude Marie Amouri."
" As I had now been at Meaux," says Madame Guyon, " six
months, though I had engaged to stay there only three, I asked
the bishop if he desired anything further from me. He said he
did not. I then told him that I had now need to go to Bour
bon ; and asked him if it would be agreeable to him, if I should
return with the expectation of spending the remainder of my
clays with the good nuns of the Convent of St. Mary ; adding,
in relation to them, that our spirits had been cemented in the
bonds of mutual love.
" Ho appeared to be much pleased with the suggestion, and
said that the nuns had been much edified by me, and that he
should always receive mo with pleasure. In connexion with
some remarks in relation to my departure, I told him that either
my daughter, the Countess of Vaux, or some of my friends,
would come for me, and take me away. On hearing this, he
turned to Mother Pickard, the prioress, and said to her that he

378 life and religious experience
was about leaving on a visit to Paris ; and that he was very
desirous, if the ladies referred to should come, that they should
be received well, and lodged in their house, as long as they
might be willing to stay."
On the eighth of July, the Duchess of Mortemar, one of the
most intimate friends of Madame Guyon, came to the convent,
accompanied by her daughter, Madame de Morstein. They re
mained till the afternoon of the next day, and then returned
with Madame Guyon to Paris.
It was no sooner known that she was again in Paris, than the
' whole city seemed to be in an uproar. Her enemies started at
once into life. The king was alarmed ; Madame de Maintenon,
carried away by the popular current, and ceasing to retain her
former favourable sentiments, was angry ; and Bossuet himself,
so far as he was accessible to the influences of personal interest,
had reason to fear that he had committed an error by too great
lenity. Certain it is, that he took the singular course, hardly
reconcilable with a high sense of honour, of writing to her, and
requesting her to return the certificate, which, but just before,
he had given.
In answer to the application for this certificate, which seemed
i to Madame Guyon to be a matter of considerable consequence,
she wrote to the prioress of the convent at Meaux, that she had
placed it in the hands of some members of her family ; that her
friends, after the various attacks which had been made upon her
character, had need of it for her vindication ; and, as they had
now possession of it, there was no reason to think they would be
willing to part with it. From this time we may date a more
. distinct and settled aversion to her on the part of Bossuet.
i The party against her was so violent, that it was evident she
would not be able to remain at large for any length of time.
Finding it unsafe to remain at the house of her daughter, she
hid herself for a few days at the house of one of her friends
in the Faubourg St. Germain. Concealing her intentions as
much as possible, she soon after obtained an obscure tenement
in the Faubourg St. Antoine, whore she remained concealed

OF MADAME GUYON. 379
with her maid-servant, La Gautiere, about five months. " Here,"
she says, " I passed the day in great solitude, in reading, in
praying to God, and working."
In the meanwhile, the police officers of Paris had orders to ,
ascertain where she was. On the 27th of December 1695,
Monsieur des Grez, one of the members of the police, ascertained
her lodgings, and arrested her. She was kept in custody three
days, awaiting the decision whether she should be imprisoned in
a convent, or in one of the state prisons. It was a question of
so much perplexity, that it seemed necessary to consult M. de
Noailles, who had recently been appointed Archbishop of Paris. ;
Accordingly, Madame de Maintenon wrote to him as follows : —
" The king orders me, sir, to inform you, that Madame Guyon
is arrested. What would you think it best to do with this
woman, her friends, and papers ? The king will be here (at
Versailles) all the morning. Write to him immediately."
The result was that she was shut up in the celebrated castle ;
of Vincennes.This castle, situated in the forest of Vincennes near Paris, is ,
used both as a military fortress and as a state prison, and is
hardly less celebrated than the Bastile. It is often mentioned
in history. Many, in earlier and in later times, have been the
agonizing sorrows and the scenes of blood it has witnessed.
The imprisonment of Madame Guyon was considered a matter
of so much consequence, that the Marquis of Dangeaux, who held
at this time an important situation at the court of Louis XIV.,
and who kept a chronicle of the court from the year 1684 to
1720, mentions it, among the other memorable things of that
period, in the following terms : —
" 1696, Jan. 20th. — The king caused Madame Guyon to be
arrested a few days ago, and sent to the castle of Vincennes,
where she will be strictly guarded, apparently for a long time.
She is accused of having maintained, both by word of mouth
and by her writings, a very dangerous doctrine, and one which
nearly approaches to heresy. She has imposed upon many per
sons of eminent virtue. A long search was made for her, be-

3'80 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS experience
fore she could be taken. She was found in the Faubourg St.
Antoine in great concealment."
In this her second imprisonment, Madame Guyon had the
same inward supports which had sustained her at other times.
Her faithful maid, La Gautiere, was arrested and imprisoned
with her. In her subsequent imprisonment in the Bastile, they
wore separated from each other. In the prison of Vincennes,
they occupied the same cell, which was a great consolation.
I She was subject here, as she had previously been, to a close
examination. In regard to Father La Combe, she declared, in opposition to
tho unfounded and unceasing insinuations of her enemies, that
her long intercourse with him had never been sullied by any
thing opposite to the innocence of religion, and that she regarded
him as an eminently holy man ; and frankly admitted that, ever
since his imprisonment, she had kept up a correspondence with
him. In regard to her doctrines, she answered her examiner, that
she might have been wrong in particular expressions ; but she
could not acknowledge, with her present views, that she had
ever held false doctrines. She expressed a willingness to submit
to any condemnation of her works, founded upon the imperfection
and erroneous tendencies of her language ; but would not deny
anything in them in the sense in which she understood it, and
in which she meant it to be understood. In this sense she ex
pressed herself resolute in making no retractions whatever.
Under such circumstances, there was, of course, but little pro
spect of any immediate release from her imprisonment.
A little incident occurred, which illustrates the application of
her religious principles. On a certain day, probably through
some failure of her usual inward recollection, she had become a
little anxious, and undertook to study and frame her answers
beforehand. The consequence was such as maybe generally ex
pected, when we depart from that simplicity of spirit which is
" careful for nothing." She says, " I answered badly. God,
who had so often caused me to answer difficult and perplexing

OF MADAME GUYON. 381
questions with much facility and presence of mind, punished me
now, even by stopping me short on easy matters with confusion.
It served to show me the inutility of our arrangements on such
occasions, and the safety of trusting in God.
" Those who depend chiefly on human reason are apt to say i
that it is necessary to look before us, and to make our prepara
tions ; and that to do otherwise, is to expect miracles, and to
tempt God. Leaving others to do as they think best, I must
say for myself, that I find no safety but in resigning myself en
tirely to God ; doing what He calls me to do in the moment of
action, and leaving everything with Him in submission and
humble faith. The Scriptures, as it seems to me, abound every
where with texts enforcing such a resignation. ' Commit thy
way unto the Lord,' says the Psalmist ; ' trust also in Him, and
He shall bring it to pass. And He shall bring forth thy right- '
eousness as the light, and thy judgment as the noon-day,' (Ps.
xxxvii. 5, 6.) The Saviour, speaking of those who are brought
before kings and rulers for His name's sake, says, ' Settle it, there
fore, in your hearts, not to meditate before what ye shall answer ; ,
— for I will give you a mouth which all your adversaries shall
not be able to gainsay nor resist.' God does not lay a snare for;
us in such passages. He consults our good, when He requires
ns to renounce all merely human foresight and policy, and trust
wholly in Him."
Speaking of her general state of mind, she says, "I passed j
my time in great peace, content to spend the remainder of my
life there, if such should be the will of God. I employed part
of my time in writing religious songs. I, and my maid La
Gautiere, who was with me in prison, committed them to heart
as fast as I made them. Together we sang praises to thee, 0
our God ! It sometimes seemed to me as if I were a little bird
whom the Lord had placed in a cage, and that I had nothing to
do now but to sing. The joy of my heart gave a brightness to
the objects around me. The stones of my prison looked in my
eyes like rubies. I esteemed them more than all the gaudy
brilliancies of a vain world. My heart was full of that joy which

382

LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE

j thou givest to them who love thee in the midst of their greatest
i crosses." A number of her poems have allusion to her imprisonment.
At this period she wrote a considerable portion of the volumes
in verse which have been since published. They illustrate the
state of her mind, and throw some light upon her character and
, doctrines. PRISONS DO NOT EXCLUDE GOD.

Strong are the walls around me,
That bold me all tbe day ;
But tbey who thus have bound me.
Cannot keep God away :
My very dungeon walls are dear,
Because the God I love is here.
They know, who thus oppress me,
Tis bard to be alone;
But know not, One can bless me,
Who comes through bars and stone :
He makes my dungeon's darkness bright.
And fills my bosom with delight.

Thy love, O God, restores me
From sighs and tears to praise ;
And deep my soul adores thee.
Nor thinks of time or place ;
I ask no more, in good or ill,
But union with thy holy will.
'Tia that which makes my treasure,
'Tis that which brings my gain ;
Converting woe to pleasure,
And reaping joy from pain.
Oh, 'tis enough, whate'er befall,
To know that God is All in All.

GOD KNOWN BY LOVING HIM.

'Tis not the skill of human art,
Which gives me power my God to know ;
The sacred lessons of the heart
Oome not from instruments below.
1 Love Is my teacher. lie can tell
The wonders that He learnt above :
. No other master knows so well ; —
'Tis Love alone can tell of Love.

Oh I then, of God If thou wouMst learn.
His wisdom, goodness, glory soe;
All human arts and knowledge spurn.
Let Love alone thy teacher be.
Love is my master. When it breaks,
The morning light, with rising ray.
To thee, 0 God ! my spirit wakes,
And Love instructs it all the day.

And when tho gleams of day retire,
And midnight spreads ita dark control,
Love's secret whiBpers still inspire
Their holy Icbsous in the soul.

THOUGHTS OF GOD IN THE NIGHT.
[Extracted and Bllghtly altered from a longer poein, translated by Oowper.]

0 Night I propitious to my views.
Thy sable awning wide diffuse !
Conceal alike my joy and pain,
Nor draw thy curtain back again,
Though morning, by the tears she shows,
Seems to participate my woes.

Te stars ! whose faint and feeble fires
Express my languishing deBfres,
Whose slondor boams pervade the skies
Aa silent as iny secret sighs,
Those emanations of a bouI
That darts her fires beyond the pole ; —

OP MADAME GUYON.

383

Tour rays, that scarce assist tho sight.
That pierce, but not displace the night,
That shine, indeed, but nothing show
Of all those various scenes below,
Bring no disturbance, rather prove
Incentives to a sacred love.
Thou moon! whose never-failing course
Bespeaks a providential force,
Go, tell the tidings of my flame
To Him who calls the stars by name ;
Whose absence kills, whose presence cheers,
Who blots or brightens all my years.
While, in tho blue abyss of spaco,
Thine orb performs its rapid race :
Still whisper In his listening oars
The language of my sighs and tears ;
Tell him, I seek him far below,
Lost in a wilderness of woe.

Ye though t-cora posing, silent hours,
Diffusing peace o'er all my powers ;
Friends of the pensive 1 who conceal,
In darkest shades, the flames I feel ;
To you I trust, and safely may,
The love that wastes my strength away.
How calm, amid tho night, my mind !
How perfect is the peace I find !
Oh t hush, be still, my every part,
My tongue, my pulse, my beating heart !
That love, aspiring to its cause,
May suffer not a moment's pause.
Omniscient God, whose notice deigns
To try tho heart and search the reins,
Compassionate the numerous woes
I dare to thee alone disclose ;
Oh 1 save me from the cruel hands
Of men who fear not thy commands !

Love, all-subduing and Divine,
Care for a creature truly thine ;
Reign in a heart disposed to own
No sovereign but thyself alone;
Cherish a bride who cannot rove,
Nor quit thee for a meaner love.

THE ENTIRE SURRENDER.

Peace has unveil'd her smiling face,
And woos thy soul to her embrace ; —
Enjoy'd with ease, if thou refrain
From eelfishlove, else sought in vain ;—
She dwells with all who truth prefer,
But seeks not them who seek not her.

Yield to the Lord with simple heart,
All that thou hast, and all thou art ;
Renounce all strength but strength Divine:
And peace Bhall he for ever thine ;
Behold the path which I have trod —
My path till I go home to God.

GLORY TO GOD ALONE.
O Loved ! but not enough, though dearer far
Than self and its most loved enjoyments are ;
None duly loves thee, but who, nobly free
From sensual objects, finds bis all in thee.
Glory of God ! thou stranger here below,
Whom man nor knows, nor feels a wish to know ;
Our faith and reason are both shock'd to find
Man in the post of honour, th^e behind.
My soul ! rest happy In thy low estate,
Nor hope nor wish to be esteem'd or great;
To take the impression of a Will Divine,
Be that thy glory, and those riches thine.

384 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Confess Him righteous in His just decrees,
Love what He loves, and let His pleasures please ;
1 he daily ; from the touch of sin recede ;
Then thou hast crown'd Him, and He reigns iudecd.

CHAPTER XLV.
1606 — Bossuet writes on the inward life — His book, entitled Instructions on Prayer, op-
proved by the llishop of Ghartres and the Archbishop of PariH — Fdnelon refuses his
approbation — Writes to Madame de Maintenon, giving his reasons — Origin of the work
entitled the Maxims of the Saints — Remarks on it.
Dukincj a considerable part of the year 1G95, the mind of
Bossuet seems to have been occupied, in various ways, with the
topics which thus agitated the religious portion of the community.
The doctrines of holy living, in the form in which they were
now presented, new as they were to most persons in that age,
were nevertheless not new in the history and experience of the
world. Pious men of other ages had known them ; felt them ;
taught them. They had their history, therefore, as well as their
exegetical and theological relations. To the subject in its vari
ous relations, Bossuet had decided to give an increased and
vigorous attention. Indeed, it was not his character to enter
upon any subject indolently and carelessly. Ho read much ;
and that, too, in writers who had hitherto attracted but little
of his notice. He thought much, and conversed and observed
much. And in the early part of the following year, after eight
months of assiduous study, he was enabled to embody the result
of his reading and reflections in his work (one of the ablest,
unquestionably, in the long catalogue of his remarkable writ-'
ings), entitled Instructions on the States of Prayer.
When Bossuet thought it proper, to write at all, he expected
to write as a master. Indeed, trK public expectation, which
was always disappointed when he failed to leave his competitors
behind, did not allow him to do otherwise. Writing as a leader
and master of his art, he wrote also as a master of the public ¦
mind. His decisions, when given in a manner worthy of his

OF MADAME GUYON. 385
high character, so influenced the public sentiment, that they had
almost the effect of the combined wisdom and piety of a council.
If he met with opposition, he expected to overcome it ; but,
generally speaking, he had ceased to expect it, because he had
so long ceased to experience it. But whether opposed or not,
he knew that he deserved to be listened to ; and he did not
expect to write or to speak to careless and indifferent ears.
" What you write," says the Abbe de Ranee in one of his
letters, " is decisive." And such was the general feeling in
Prance. He took the precaution, however, at this time, as the result,
seemed to be more doubtful than in some other cases, to sustain
himself by the approval of distinguished men. Who knew but
that a new Protestantism, arising out of these discussions, would
spring up in the very bosom of France ? How important it
was, then, that the blow about to be given should be so well
aimed, and inflicted with so much power, as entirely and for
ever to prostrate these movements ? If he had but little to fear
from an intellectual conflict with Madame Guyon, he might
have much to fear from heads and hearts too pure to be per
verted by selfish considerations, and too strong to be trifled with,
which were under her remarkable influence.
With such views and feelings, he wrote this celebrated,
treatise — a large work in ten books. Of the ability of the work'
no one can doubt. It is profound in learning, and brilliant
with eloquence. But he was offended with Madame Guyon ;
he knew that the king was offended also ; and when he touched
upon her character and writings, he was more critical and
denunciatory than just.
His work, begun in 1695, was completed early in 1696, but
was not published till the following year. It was not his inten
tion to publish it, until it could be submitted to the examination,
and be sustained by the approbation, of some of the most dis
tinguished men in France. It was accordingly submitted, at
• an early period, to M. Godet des Marais, Bishop of Chartres,
and to M. de Noailles, appointed in the preceding year Arch-
2 B

386 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
bishop of Paris. Both were able men, and readily gave their
testimonials in favour of the work.
To these important testimonials Bossuet was desirous of adding
that of the recently appointed Archbishop of Cambray. The
high character of Fenelon, added to the influential position he
now held, had given a currency and popularity to the doctrines
of Madame Guyon. It was natural, therefore, for Bossuet to
consider it desirable to diminish his influence in that respect,
by obtaining his signature to a work which condemned those
doctrines. Fenelon examined the manuscript with care ; and although
impressed with the ability which characterized it, he refused to
give his approbation to it.
If the book had merely condemned doctrines, without impli
cating the character of persons, it might have been otherwise.
His objection was not so much to the general doctrines of the
book, although he might not have been altogether satisfied in
that respect, as to the manner in which the writer spoke of the
opinions and character of Madame Guyon.
Others, who were comparatively ignorant of her character,
might perhaps conscientiously condemn her ; but, as for himself,
he felt that he had no such plea. He knew her well ; he was
entirely convinced of her sincerity ; he had taken pains to as
certain her meaning in passages of her writings which seemed
obscure and difficult. But this was not all. He remembered,
with feelings of gratitude, the deep interest she had taken in his
religious welfare, the prayers she had offered, the conversations
she had held, the letters she had written, and the blessing which
had attended these various efforts.
Was it possible for him, with a heart humbled and subdued,
with a will which corresponded with what he supposed to bo
right and with the right only, to give his signature and appro
bation to a book which spoke in severely disparaging terms of
one of whom he entertained the most favourable opinions, and
to whom he was thus indebted ?
He knew that his refusal would not only be an offence to

OP MADAME GUYON. 387
Bossuet, but would expose him also to the dissatisfaction of the
king, and would be likely to blast his worldly prospects. But
he did not hesitate.
The following are passages from a letter addressed to Madame
de Maintenon : — " August 2, 1696.
" Madame, — When the Bishop of Mcanx proposed to mo to
approve of his book, I expressed to him, with tenderness, that I
should be delighted to give such a public testimony of the con
formity of my sentiments with those of a prelate whom I had
ever regarded, from my youth, as my master in the science of
religion. I even offered to go to Germigny to compose, in con
junction with him, my approbation. I said, at the same time,
to the Archbishop of Paris, to the Bishop of Chartres, and to
Monsieur Tronson, that I did not, in fact, see any shadow of
difficulty between me and the Bishop of Meaux, on the funda
mental questions of doctrine ; but that, if he personally attacked
Madame Guyon in his book, I could not approve of it. This
I declared six months ago. The Bishop of Meaux gave me
his book to examine. At the first opening of the leaves, I saw
that it was full of personal refutation. I immediately informed
the Archbishop of Paris, the Bishop of Chartres, and Monsieur
Tronson, of the perplexing situation in which the Bishop of
Meaux had placed me."
After adding that he could not approve of a book in which (
many unfavourable things are said of Madame Guyon, without
doing an injury to himself as well as injustice to her, he proceeds ,
in the same letter to give his reasons. !
" I have often seen her. Every one knows that I have been '
intimately acquainted with her. I may say farther, that I have
esteemed her, and that I have suffered her also to be esteemed
by illustrious persons, whose reputation is dear to the Church,
and who had confidence in me. I neither was nor could be
ignorant of her writings, although I did not examine them all
accurately at an early period. I knew enough of them, however,
to perceive that they were liable to be misunderstood ; and must '

388 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
, confess that I was induced by some feelings of early distrust to
examine her with the greatest rigour. I think I can say I have
; conducted this examination with greater accuracy than her
enemies, or even her authorized examiners, can have done it.
And the reason of my saying this is, that she was much more
candid, much more unconstrained, much more ingenuous towards
me, at a time when she had nothing to fear.
" I have often made her explain what she thought respecting
1 the controverted points. I have required her, in frequent in
stances, to explain to me the meaning of particular terms in her
writings, having relation to the subject of inward experience,
which seemed to be mystical and uncertain. I clearly perceived,
in every instance, that she understood them in a perfectly inno
cent and catholic sense. I followed her even through all the
details of her practice, and of the counsels which she gave to the
most ignorant and least cautious persons ; but I could never
discover the least trace of those wrong and injurious maxims
which are attributed to her. Could I then conscientiously im
pute them to her by my approbation of the work of the Bishop
of Meaux, and thus strike the final blow at her reputation, after
haying so clearly and so accurately ascertained her innocence ?
" Let others, who are acquainted with her writings only, ex
plain the meaning of those writings with rigour, and censure
them. I leave them to do it if they please. But, as for myself,
I think I am bound in justice to judge of the meaning of her
writings from her real opinions, with which I am thoroughly
acquainted; and not of her opinions, by the harsh interpreta-
: tions which are given to her expressions, and which she never
. intended." The work of Bossuet, although not yet published, was every
where spoken of. It was generally understood also, that it did
not meet with the approbation of Fenelon. Bossuet and Fenelon
were, therefore, at variance ; two men who embodied more of
public thought and public attachment than any other two men
in France. And, singular as it may seem, the object of con
troversy between them was a poor captive woman, who was at

OF MADAME GUYON. 389
this very time shut up in the fortress of Vincennes, and employed
in making religious songs.
It was not possible for a man of Fenelon's reputation and
Btanding, towards whom so many eyes were now turned, to re
main silent. Under these circumstances, enlightened by his
own experience as well as by history, he gave to the world his:
work, entitled, The Maxims of the Saints, in January 1697.
In this celebrated work, it was his object to state some of the
leading principles found in the most devout writers on the
higher inward experience. The work of Bossuet, although it
embraced a multitude of topics, might be justly described as an
attack upon Madame Guyon. The work of F6nelon, without
naming her, was designed to be her defence. It was an exposi
tion of her views as Fenelon understood them, and as she had
explained them to him in private. I propose to give the sub
stance of these maxims. As they are drawn in part from the
mystic writers, we meet frequently with expressions peculiar to
those writers.
MAXIMS OF THE SAINTS.
[The maxims of the Saints ; — or Maxims having relation to the experiences of the Inward
Life and the doctrines of Pure Love, by Fenelon, Archbishop of Oambray.]
ARTICLE FIRST.
Of the love of God, there are various kinds. At least, there
are various feelings which go under that name.
First, There is what may be called mercenary or selfish love ;
that is, that love of God which originates in a sole regard to our
own happiness. Those who love God with no other love than
this, love Him just as the miser his money, and the voluptuous
man his pleasures ; attaching no value to God, except as a means
to an end ; and that end is the gratification of themselves. Such
love, if it can be called by that name, is unworthy of God. He
does not ask it ; He will not receive it. In the language of
Francis de Sales, " it is sacrilegious and impious."
Second, Another kind of love does not exclude a regard to

390 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
our own happiness as a motive of love, but requires this motive
to be subordinate to a much higher one, namely, that of a regard
to God's glory. It is a mixed state, in which we regard our
selves and God at the same time. This love is not necessarily
selfish and wrong. On the contrary, when the two objects of it,
God and ourselves, are relatively in the right position, that is to
say, when we love God as He ought to be loved, and love our
selves no more than we ought to be loved, it is a love which, in
being properly subordinated, is unselfish and is right.
ARTICLE SECOND.
I. Of the subjects of this mixed love all are not equally
advanced. II. Mixed love becomes pure love, when the love of self is
relatively, though not absolutely, lost in a regard to the will of
God. This is always the case, when the two objects are loved
in their due proportion. So that pure love is mixed love when
it is combined rightly.
III. Pure love is not inconsistent with mixed love, but is
mixed love carried to its true result. When this result is at
tained, the motive of God's glory so expands itself, and so fills
the mind, that the other motive, that of our own happiness,
becomes so small, and so recedes from our inward notice, as to
be practically annihilated. It is then that God becomes what
He ever ought to be — the centre of the soul, to which all its
affections tend ; the great moral sun of the soul, from which all
its light and all its warmth proceed. It is then that a man
thinks no more of himself. He has become the man of a " single
eye." His own happiness, and all that regards himself, is entirely
lost sight of, in his simple and fixed look to God's will and
God's glory.
IV. We lay ourselves at His feet. Self is known no more ;
not because it is wrong to regard and to desire our own good,
but because the object of desire is withdrawn from our notice.
When the sun shines, the stars disappear. When God is in the

OF MADAME GUYON. 391
soul, who can think of himself? So that we love God, and God '
alone ; and all other things in and for God.
ARTICLE THIRD.
In the early periods of religious experience, motives, which
have a regard to our personal happiness, are more prominent
and effective than at later periods ; nor are they to be condemned.
It is proper, in addressing even religious men, to appeal to the
fear of death, to the impending judgments of God, to the terrors
of hell and the joys of heaven. Such appeals are recognised in
the Holy Scriptures, and are in accordance with the views and
feelings of good men in all ages of the world. The motives
involved in them are powerful aids to beginners in religion ;
assisting, as they do, very much in repressing the passions, and
in strengthening the practical virtues.
We should not think lightly, therefore, of the grace of God,
as manifested in that inferior form of religion which stops short
of the more glorious and perfected form of pure love. We are
to follow God's grace, and not to go before it. To the higher
state of pure love we are to advance step by step ; watching
carefully God's inward and outward providence ; and receiving
increased grace by improving the grace we have, till the dawn
ing light becomes the perfect day.
ARTICLE FOURTH.
He who is in the state of pure or perfect love, has all the
moral and Christian virtues in himself. If temperance, forbear
ance, chastity, truth, kindness, forgiveness, justice, may be re
garded as virtues, there can be no doubt that they are all in
cluded in holy love. That is to say, the principle of love will
not fail to develop itself in each of these forms. St. Augustine
remarks, that love is the foundation, source, or principle of all
the virtues. This view is sustained also by St. Francis de Sales
and by Thomas Aquinas.
The state of pure love does not exclude the mental state
which is called Christian hope. Hope in the Christian, when

392 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
we analyze it into its elements, may be described as the desire
of being united with God in heaven, accompanied with the ex
pectation or belief of being so.
ARTICLE FIFTH.
Souls that, by being perfected in love, are truly the subjects
of sanctification, do not cease, nevertheless, to grow in grace.
It may not be easy to specify and describe the degrees of sancti
fication ; but there seem to be at least two modifications of
experience after persons have reached this state.
1. The first may be described as the state of holy resignation.
Such a soul thinks more frequently than it will, at a subsequent
period, of its own happiness.
2. The second state is that of holy indifference. Such a soul
absolutely ceases either to desire or to will, except in co-opera
tion with the Divine leading. Its desires for itself, as it has
greater light, are more completely and permanently merged in
the one higher and more absorbing desire of God's glory, and
the fulfilment of His will. In this state of experience, ceasing
to do what we shall be likely to do, and what we may very
properly do in a lower state, we no longer desire our own salva
tion merely as an eternal deliverance, or merely as involving
the greatest amount of personal happiness ; but we desire it
chiefly as the fulfilment of God's pleasure, and as resulting in
His glory, and because He Himself desires and wills that we
should thus desire and will.
3. Holy indifference is not inactivity. It is the furthest pos
sible from it. It is indifference to anything and everything out
of God's will ; but it is the highest life and activity to anything
and everything in that will. ARTICLE SIXTH.
One of the clearest and best-established maxims of holiness
is, that the holy soul, when arrived at the second state men
tioned, ceases to have desires for anything out of the will of God.
The holy soul, when it is really in the state called the state of

OF MADAME GUYON. 393
N0N-DESiRE,may, nevertheless, desire everything in relation to the
correction of its imperfections and weaknesses, its perseverance
in its religious Btate, and its ultimate salvation, which it has
reason to know from the Scriptures, or in auy other way, that
God desires. It may also desire all temporal good, houses and
lands, food and clothing, friends and books, and exemption from
physical suffering, and anything else, so far and only so far, as
it has reason to think that such desire is coincident with the
Divine desire. The holy soul not only desires particular things,
sanctioned by the known will of God ; but also the fulfilment of
His will in all respects, unknown as well as known. Being in
faith, it commits itself to God in darkness as well as in light.
Its non-desire is simply its not desiring anything out of God.
ARTICLE SEVENTH.
In the history of inward experience, we not unfrequently find j
accounts of individuals whose inward life may properly be
characterized as extraordinary. They represent themselves as
having extraordinary communications ; — dreams, visions, revela
tions. Without stopping to inquire whether these inward results
arise from an excited and disordered state of the physical system
or from God, the important remark to be made here is, that these
things, to whatever extent they may exist, do not constitute
holiness. The principle, which is the life of common Christians in their
common mixed state, is the principle which originates and sus
tains the life of those who are truly " the pure in heart," namely,
the principle oi faith working by love, — existing, however, in
the case of those last mentioned, in a greatly increased degree.
This is obviously the doctrine of John of the Cross, who teaches
us, that we must walk in the night of faith ; that is to say,
with night around us, which exists in consequence of our entire
ignorance of what is before us, and with faith alone, faith in
God, in His Word, and in His Providences, for the soul's guide.
Again, the persons who have, or are supposed to have, the
visions and other remarkable states to which we have referred,

394 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
are sometimes disposed to make their own experience, imperfect
as it obviously is, the guide of their life, considered as separate
from and as above the written law. Great care should be taken
against such an error as this. God's word is our true rule.
Nevertheless, there is no interpreter of the Divine Word like
! that of a holy heart ; or, what is the same thing, of the Holy
Ghost dwelling in the heart. If we give ourselves wholly to
God, the Comforter will take up His abode with us, and guide
us into all that truth which will be necessary for us. Truly
holy souls, therefore, continually looking to God for a proper
understanding of His Word, may confidently trust that He will
guide them aright. A holy soul, in the exercise of its legitimate
powers of interpretation, may deduce important views from the
Word of God which would not otherwise be known ; but it can
not add anything to it.
Again, God is the regulator of the affections, as well as of the
outward actions. Sometimes the state which He inspires within
us is that of holy love ;— sometimes He inspires affections which
have love and faith for their basis, but have a specific character,
and then appear under other names, such as humility, forgiveness,
gratitude. But in all cases there is nothing holy, except what is
' based upon the antecedent or " prevenient" grace of God. In all
the universe, there is but one legitimate Originator. Man's busi
ness is that of concurrence. And this view is applicable to all
the stages of Christian experience, from the lowest to the highest.
ARTICLE EIOIITII.
Writers often speak of abandonment. The term has a mean
ing somewhat specific. The soul in this stato does not renounce
everything, and thus become brutish in its indifference ; but re
nounces everything except God's will.
Souls in the state of abandonment, not only forsake outward
things, but, what is still more important, forsake themselves.
Abandonment, or self-renunciation, is not the renunciation of
faith or of love or of anything else, except selfishness.
The state of abandonment, or entire self-renunciation, is

OF MADAME GUYON. 395
generally attended, and perhaps we may say, carried out and
perfected, by temptations more or less severe. We cannot well
know, whether we have renounced ourselves, except by being
tried on those very points to which our self-renunciatiort, either
real or supposed, relates. One of the severest inward trials is
that by which we are taken off from all inward sensible supports,
and are made to live and walk by faith alone. Pious and holy
men who have been the subjects of inward crucifixion, often
refer to the trials which have been experienced by them. They
sometimes speak of them as a sort of inward and terrible purga
tory. " Only mad and wicked men," says Cardinal Bona,
" will deny the existence of these remarkable experiences,
attested as they are by men of tbe most venerable virtue, who
speak only of what they have known in themselves."
Trials are not always of the same duration. The more cheer
fully and faithfully we give ourselves to God, to be smitten in
any and all of our idols, whenever and wherever He chooses, the
shorter will be the work. God makes us to suffer no longer
than He sees to be necessary for us.
We should not be premature in concluding that inward cru
cifixion is complete, and our abandonment to God is without
any reservation whatever. The act of consecration, which is a
sort of incipient step, may be sincere ; but the reality of the
consecration can be known only when God has applied the ap
propriate tests. The trial will shew whether we are wholly the
Lord's. Those who prematurely draw the conclusion that they
are so, expose themselves to great illusion and injury.
ARTICLE NINTH.
The state of abandonment, or of entire self-renunciation, does
not take from the soul that moral power which is essential to
its moral agency ; nor that antecedent or prevenient grace,
without which even abandonment itself would be a state of
moral death ; nor the principle of faith, which prevenient grace
originated, and through which it now operates ; nor the desire
and hope of final salvation, although it takes away all uneasiness

396 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
and unbelief connected with such a desire ; nor the fountains of
love which spring up deeply and freshly within it ; nor the
hatred of sin ; nor the testimony of a good conscience.
But it takes away that uneasy hankering of the soul after
pleasure either inward or outward, and the selfish vivacity and
eagerness of nature, which is too impatient to wait calmly and
submissively for God's time of action. By fixing the mind
wholly upon God, it takes away the disposition of the soul to
occupy itself with reflex acts ; that is, with the undue examina
tion and analysis of its own feelings. It does not take away the
pain and sorrow naturally incident to our physical state and
natural sensibilities ; but it takes away all uneasiness, all mur
muring ; — leaving the soul in its inner nature, and in every part
of its nature where the power of faith reaches, calm and peace
able as the God that dwells there.
ARTICLE TENTH.
God has promised life and happiness to His people. What
He has promised can never fail to take place. Nevertheless, it
is the disposition of those who love God with a perfect heart, to
leave themselves entirely in His hands, irrespective, in some de
gree, of the promise. By the aid of the promise, without which
they must have remained in their original weakness, they rise,
as it were, above the promise ; and rest in that essential and
eternal will, in which the promise originated.
So much is this the case, that some individuals, across whose
path God had spread the darkness of His providences, and who
seemed to themselves for a time to be thrown out of His favour
and to be hopelessly lost, have acquiesced with submission in
the terrible destiny which was thus presented before them.
Such was the state of mind of Francis de Sales, as ho prostrated
himself in the church of St. Stephen des Grez. The language
of such persons, uttered without complaint, is, " My God, my
God, why hast thou forsaken me?" They claim God as their
God, and will not abandon their love to Him, although they
believe, at the time, that they are forsaken of Him. They

OF MADAME GUYON. 397
choose to leave themselves, under all possible circumstances,
entirely in the hands of God : their language is, even if it should
be His pleasure to separate them for ever from the enjoyments
of His presence, " Not my will, but thine be done."
It is perhaps difficult to perceive, how minds whose life, as it .
were, is the principle of faith, can be in this situation. Take
the case of the Saviour. It is certainly difficult to conceive how
the Saviour, whose faith never failed, could yet believe Himself
forsaken ; and yet it was so.
We know that it is impossible for God to forsake those who1
put 'their trust in Him. He can just as soon forsake His own
word ; and, what is more, He can just as soon forsake His own
nature. Holy souls, nevertheless, may sometimes, in a way and
under circumstances which we may not fully understand, believe
themselves to be forsaken, beyond all possibility of hope ; and
yet such is their faitli in God and their love to Him, that the
will of God, even under such circumstances, is dearer to them
than anything and everything else. ,
ARTICLE ELEVENTH.
One great point of difference between the First Covenant, or .
the covenant of works, which said to men, " Do this and live,"
and the Second Covenant, or the covenant of grace, which says,
" Believe and live," is this : — The first covenant did not lead
men to anything that was perfect. It shewed men what was
right and good ; but it failed in giving them the power to fulfil
what the covenant required. Men not only understood what
was right and good, but they knew what was evil; but, in their j
love and practice of depravity, they had no longer power of'
themselves to flee from it.
The new or Christian covenant of grace, not only prescribes '
and commands, but gives also the power to fulfil.
In the practical dispensations of divine grace, there are a
number of principles which it may be important to remember.
1. God being Love, it is a part of His nature to desire t6
communicate Himself 'to all moral beings, and to make Himself

398 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
one with them in a perfect harmony of relations and feelings.
The position of God is that of giver ; the position of man is that
of recipient. Harmonized with man by the blood and power of
the Cross, he has once more become the infinite fulness, the ori
ginal and overflowing fountain, giving and ever ready to give.
2. Such are the relations between God and man, involved in
the fact of man's moral agency, that man's business is to receive.
3. Souls true to the grace given them, will never suffer any
diminution of it. On the contrary, the great and unchangeable
condition of continuance and of growth in grace is co-operation
with what we now have. This is the law of growth, not only
deducible from the Divine nature, but expressly revealed and
declared in the Scriptures : — " For whosoever hath, to him shall
be given, and he shall have more abundance ; but whosoever hath
not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath." — Matt.
xiii. 12.
A faithful co-operation with grace, is the most effectual pre
paration for attracting and receiving and increasing grace. This
is the great secret of advancement to those high degrees which
are permitted ; namely, a strict, unwavering, faithful co-opera
tion, moment by moment.
4. It is important correctly to understand the doctrine of co
operation. A disposition to co-operate, is not more opposed to
the sinful indolence which falls behind, than to the hasty and
unrighteous zeal which runs before. It is in the excess of zeal,
which has a good appearance, but in reality has unbelief and
self at the bottom, that we run before God.
5. Co-operation, by being calm and peaceable, does not cease
to be efficacious. Souls in this purified but tranquil state are
souls of power ; watchful and triumphant against self ; resisting
temptation ; fighting even to blood against sin. But it is, never
theless, a combat free from the turbulence and inconsistencies of
human passion ; because they contend in the presence of God,
who is their strength, in the spirit of the highest faith and love,
and under the guidance of the Holy Ghost, who is always tran
quil in His operations.

OF MADAME GUYON. 399

ARTICLE TWELFTH.
Those in the highest state of religious experience desire no-i
thing, except that God may be glorified in them by the accom
plishment of His holy will. Nor is it inconsistent with this, that
holy souls possess that natural love which exists in the form of
love for themselves. Their natural love, however, which, within
its proper degree, is innocent love, is so absorbed in the love of
God, that it ceases, for the most part, to be a distinct object of
consciousness ; and practically and truly they may be said to \
love themselves in and for God. Adam, in his state of inno
cence, loved himself, considered as the reflex image of God and
for God's sake. So that we may either say, that he loved God
in himself, or that he loved himself in and for God. And it is
because holy souls, extending their affections beyond their own
limit, love their neighbour on the same principle of loving,
namely, in and for God, that they may be said to love their
neighbours as themselves.
It does not follow, because the love of ourselves is lost in the j
love of God, that we are to take no care, and to exercise no ,
watch over ourselves. No man will be so seriously and con
stantly watchful over himself as he who loves himself in and
for God alone. Having the image of God in himself, he has a
motive strong, we might perhaps say, as that which controls the '
actions of angels, to guard and protect it.
It may be thought, perhaps, that this is inconsistent with the
principle in the doctrines of holy living, which requires in the
highest stages of inward experience, to avoid those reflex acts
which consist in self-inspection, because such acts have a ten
dency to turn the mind off from God. The apparent difficulty
is reconciled in this way. The holy soul is a soul with God ;
moving as God moves; doing as God does; looking as God
looks. If, therefore, God is looking within Us, as we may
generally learn from the intimations of His providences, then it
is a sign that we are to look within ourselves. Our little eye,
our small and almost imperceptible ray, must look in, in the

400 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
midst of the light of His great and burning eye. It is thus that
we may inspect ourselves without a separation from God.
On the same principle, we may be watchful and careful over
our neighbours ; watching them, not in our own time, but in
God's time; not in the censoriousness of nature, but in the
kindness and forbearance of grace ; not as separate from God,
but in concurrence with Him.
ARTICLE THIRTEENTH.
The soul, in the state of pure love, acts in simplicity. Its in
ward rule of action is found in the decisions of a sanctified con
science. These decisions, based upon judgments that are free
from self-interest, may not always be absolutely right, because
our views and judgments, being limited, can extend only to
things in part ; but they may be said to be relatively right :
they conform to things so far as we are permitted to see them
and understand them, and convey to the soul a moral assurance,
that, when we act in accordance with them, we are doing as God
would have us do. Such a conscience is enlightened by the
Spirit of God ; and when we act thus, under its Divine guidance,
looking at what now is and not at what may be, looking at the
right of things and not at their relations to our personal and
selfish interests, we are said to act in simplicity. This is the
true mode of action.
Thus, in this singleness of spirit, we do things, as some ex
perimental writers express it, without knowing what we do. We
are so absorbed in the thing to be done, and in the importance
of doing it rightly, that we forget ourselves. Perfect love has
nothing to spare from its object for itself, and he who prays per
fectly is never thinking how well he prays.
ARTICLE FOURTEENTH.
i Holy souls are without impatience, but not without trouble •
jare above murmuring, but not above affliction. : The souls of
those who are thus wholly in Christ may be regarded in two
points of view, or rather in two parts ; namely, the natural appe-

OF MADAME GUYON. 401
tites, propensities, and affections, on the one hand, which may be
called the inferior part ; and the judgment, the moral sense, and
the will, on the other, which may be described as the superior
part. As things are, in the present life, those who are wholly
devoted to God may suffer in the inferior part, and may be at
rest in the superior. Their wills may be in harmony with the
Divine will ; they may be approved in their judgments and con
science, and at the same time may suffer greatly in their physical
relations, and in their natural sensibilities. In this manner,
Christ upon the cross, while His will remained firm in its union
with the will of His heavenly Father, suffered much through
His physical system ; He felt the painful longings of thirst, the
pressure of the thorns, and the agony of the spear. He was
deeply afflicted also for the friends He left behind Him, and for
a dying world. But in His inner and higher nature, where He
felt Himself sustained by the secret voice uttered in His sancti
fied conscience and in His unchangeable faith, He was peaceful
and happy. ARTICLE FIFTEENTH.
A suitable repression of the natural appetites is profitable and
necessary. We are told that the body should be brought into
subjection. Those physical mortifications, therefore, which are
instituted to this end, denominated austerities, are not to be dis
approved. When practised within proper limits, they tend to
correct evil habits, to preserve us against temptation, and to give
self-control. The practice of austerities, with the views and on the principles
indicated, should be accompanied with the spirit of recollection,
of love, and prayer. Christ himself, whose retirement to solitary
places, whose prayers and fastings are not to be forgotten, has
given us the pattern which it is proper for us to follow. We
must sometimes use force against our stubborn nature. " Since
the days of John, the kingdom of heaven suffer eth violence; and
the violent take it by force."
2c

402 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
ARTICLE SIXTEENTH.
The simple desire of our own happiness, kept in due subordi-
1 nation, is innocent. This desire is natural to us ; and is properly
denominated the principle of self-love. When the principle
of self-love passes its appropriate limit, it becomes selfishness.
Self-love is innocent ; selfishness is wrong. Selfishness was the
sin of the first angel, '' who rested in himself," as St. Augustine
, expresses it, instead of referring himself to God.
Iu many Christians a prominent principle of action is the de
sire of happiness. They love God and they love heaven ; they
love holiness, and they love the pleasures of holiness ; they love
to do good, and they love the rewards of doing good. This is
well ; but there is something better. Such Christians are inferior
to those who forget the nothingness of the creature in the infini
tude of the Creator, and love God for His own glory alone.
ARTICLE SEVENTEENTH.
No period of the Christian life is exempt from temptation.
The temptations incident to the earlier stages are different from
those incident to a later period, and are to be resisted in a differ
ent manner.
Sometimes the temptations incident to the transition-state from
mixed love to pure love are somewhat peculiar, being adapted to
test whether we love God for Himself alone.
In the lower or mixed stato the methods of resisting tempta
tions are various. Sometimes the subject of these trials boldly
faces them, and endeavours to overcome them by a direct resist
ance. Sometimes he turns and flees. But in the state of pure
love, when the soul has become strong in the Divine contempla
tion, it is the common rule laid down by religious writers, that
the soul should keep itself fixed upon God in the exercise of its
holy love as at other times, as the most effectual way of resist
ing the temptation, which would naturally expand its efforts in
vain upon a soul in that state.

OF MADAME GUYON. 403

ARTICLE EIGHTEENTH.
The will of God is the ultimate and only rule of action. God
manifests His will in various ways. The will of God may in some
cases be ascertained by the operations of the human mind, especi
ally when under a religious or gracious guidance. But He re
veals His will chiefly in His written word. And nothing can be
declared to be the will of God, which is at variance with His
written or revealed will, which may also be called His positive
will. If we sin, it is true that God permits it ; but it is also true,
that He disapproves and condemns it as contrary to His immut
able holiness.
It is the business of the sinner to repent. The state of peni
tence has temptations peculiar to itself. He is sometimes tempted
to murmuring and rebellious feelings, as if he had been unjustly
left of God. When penitence is true, and in the highest state,
it is free from the variations of human passion.
ARTICLE NINETEENTH.
Among other distinctions of prayer, we may make that of vocal
and silent, the prayer of the lips and the prayer of the affections.
Vocal prayer, without the heart attending it, is superstitious and
wholly unprofitable. To pray without recollection in God and
without love, is to pray as the heathen did, who thought to be
heard for the multitude of their words.
Nevertheless, vocal prayer, when attended by right affections,
ought to be both recognised and encouraged, as being calculated
to strengthen the thoughts and feelings it expresses, and to
awaken new ones, and also for the reason that it was taught by
the Son of God to His Apostles, and that it has been practised
by the whole Church in all ages. To make light of this sacri
fice of praise, this fruit of the lips, would be an impiety.
Silent prayer, in its common form, is also profitable. Each
has its peculiar advantages, as each has its place.
There is also a modification of prayer, which may be termed

404 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
the prayer of silence. This is a prayer too deep for words. The
common form of silent prayer is voluntary. In the prayer of
contemplative silence, the lips seem to be closed almost against
the will. ARTICLE TWENTIETH.
The principles of holy living extend to everything. For in
stance, in the matter of reading, he who has given himself wholly
to God, can read only what God permits him to read. He can
not read books, however characterized by wit or power, merely
to indulge an idle curiosity, or to please himself alone.
In reading this may be a suitable direction, namely, to read
but little at a time, and to interrupt the reading by intervals of
religious recollection, in order that we may let the Holy Spirit
more deeply imprint in us Christian truths.
God, in the person of the Holy Ghost, becomes to the fully
renovated mind the great inward Teacher. This is a great truth.
At the same time we are not to suppose that the presence of the
inward teacher exempts us from the necessity of the outward
lesson. The Holy Ghost, operating through the medium of a
purified judgment, teaches us by the means of books, especially
by the word of God, which is never to be laid aside.
ARTICLE TWENTY-FIRST.
One characteristic of the lower states of religious experience
is, that they are sustained, in a considerable degree, by medita
tive and reflective acts. As faith is comparatively weak and
temptations are strong, it becomes necessary to gain strength by
such meditative and reflective acts, by the consideration of va
rious truths applicable to their situation, and of the motives
drawn from such truths. Accordingly, souls array before them
all the various motives drawn from the consideration of misery
on the one hand, and of happiness on the other ; all the motives
of fear and hope.
It is different with those who have given themselves wholly
to God in the exercise of pure or perfect love. The soul does

OF MADAME GUYON. 405
not find it necessary to delay and to meditate, in order to discover
motives of action. It finds its motive of action a motive simple,
uniform, peaceable, and still powerful beyond any other power,
in its own principle of life.
Meditation, inquiry, and reasoning, are exceedingly necessary
to the great body of Christians ; and absolutely indispensable to
those in tbe beginnings of the Christian life. To take away these
helps would be to take away the child from the breast before it
can digest solid food. Still they are only the props, and not the
life itself. ARTICLE TWENTY-SECOND.
The holy soul delights in acts of contemplation ; to think of
God and of God only. But the contemplative state, without any
interruption, is hardly consistent with the condition of the present
life. It may be permitted to exist, however, and ought not to
be resisted, when the attraction towards God is so strong, that
we find ourselves incapable of profitably employing our minds in
meditative and discursive acts.
ARTICLE TWENTY-THIRD.
Of the two states, the meditative and discursive on the one
hand, which reflects, compares, and reasons, and supports itself
by aids and methods of that nature, and the contemplative on the
other, which rests in God without such aids, the contemplative
is the higher. God will teach the times of both. Neither state
is, or ought to be, entirely exclusive of the other.
ARTICLE TWENTY-FOURTH.
In some cases God gives such eminent grace, that the contem
plative prayer, which is essentially the same with the prayer of
silence, becomes the habitual state. We do not mean, that the
mind is always in this state ; but that, whenever the season of
recollection and prayer returns, it habitually assumes the con
templative state, in distinction from the meditative and discursive.
It does not follow that this state, eminent as it is, is invariable.

406 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Souls may fall from this state by some act of infidelity in-
themselves ; or God may place them temporarily in a different
state. ARTICLE TWENTY-FIFTH.
'' Whether, therefore," says the Apostle, " ye eat or drink, or
J whatsoever ye do, do all things to the glory of God," 1 Cor. x. 31,
i And in another passage he says, " Let all things be done with
' charily," 1 Cor. xvi. 14. And again, " By love serve one another,"
'. Gal. v. 13 : — passages which, with many others, imply two things;
first, that everything which is done by the Christian ought to be
; done from a holy principle ; and, second, that this principle is
'' love. ARTICLE TWENTY-SIXTH.
Our acceptance with G°d, when our hearts are wholly given
to Him, does not depend upon our being in a particular state, but
simply upon our being in that state in which God in His provi
dence requires ns to be. i The doctrine of holiness, therefore,
while it recognises and requires, on its appropriate occasions, the
' prayer of contemplation or of contemplative silence, is not only
not inconsistent with other forms of prayer, but is not at all in
consistent with the practice of the ordinary acts, duties, and
, virtues of life. It would be a great mistake to suppose,
that a man who bears the Saviour's image, is any the less on
that account a good neighbour or a good citizen ; that he can
. think less or work less when he is called to it ; or that he is not
characterized by the various virtues, appropriate to our present
situation, of temperance, truth, forbearance, forgiveness, kindness,
. chastity, justice. There is a law, involved in the very nature
: of holiness, which requires it to adapt itself to every variety of
situation. ARTICLE TWENTY-SEVENTH.
It is in accordance with the views of Dionysius the Areopagite,
to say, that the holy soul, in its contemplative state, is occupied

OF MADAME GUYON. 407
with the pure or spiritual Divinity. That is to say, it is occupied
with God, in distinction from any mere image of God, such
as could be addressed to the touch, the sight, or any of the
senses. And this is not all. It does not satisfy the desires of the soul
in its contemplative state, to occupy itself merely with the attri
butes of God ; with His power, wisdom, goodness, and the like ;
but it rather seeks and unites itself with the God of the attributes.
The attributes of God are not God himself. The power of God
is not an identical expression with the God of power ; nor is the
wisdom of God identical with the God of wisdom. The holy
soul, in its contemplative state, loves to unite itself with God,
considered as the subject of His attributes. It is not infinite
wisdom, infinite power, or infinite goodness, considered separately
from the existenco of whom they can bo predicated, which it
loves and adores ; but the God of infinite wisdom, power, and
goodness. ARTICLE TWENTY-EIGHTH.
Christ is " the way, and the truth, and the life." The grace
which sanctifies as well as that which justifies, is by Him and
through Him. He is the true and living way ; and no man can
gain the victory over sin, and be brought into union with God,
without Christ. And when, in some mitigated sense, we may be
said to have arrived at the end of the way by being brought home
to the Divine fold and reinstated in the Divine image, it would
be sad indeed if we should forget the way itself, as Christ is
sometimes called. At every period of our progress, however ad
vanced it may be, our life is derived from God through Him and
for Him. The most advanced souls are those which are most
possessed with the thoughts and the presence of Christ.
Any other view would be extremely pernicious. It would be
to snatch from the faithful eternal life, which consists in knowing
the only true God and Jesus Christ His Son, whom He hath
sent.

408 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE

ARTICLE TWENTY-NINTH.
The way of holiness is wonderful, but it is not miraculous.
Those in it, walk by simple faith alone. And perhaps there is
nothing more remarkable nor wonderful in it, than that a result
so great should be produced by a principle so simple.
When persons have arrived at the state of Divine union, so
that, in accordance with the prayer of the Saviour, they are
made one with Christ in God, they no longer seem to put forth
distinct inward acts, but their state appears to be characterized
by a deep and Divine repose.
The continuous act is the act of faith, which brings into moral
and religious union with the Divine nature ; faith which, through
the plenitude of Divine grace, is kept firm, unbroken.
I The appearance of absolute continuity and unity in this blessed
state is increased perhaps by the entire freedom of the mind from
all eager, anxious, unquiet acts. The soul is not only at unity
with itself in the respects which have been mentioned, but it has
also a unity of rest.
This state of continuous faith and of consequent repose in God
is sometimes denominated the passive state. The soul, at such
times, ceases to originate acts which precede the grace of God.
The decisions of her consecrated judgment, are the voice of the
Holy Ghost in the soul. But if she first listens passively, it is
subsequently her business to yield an active and effective co
operation in the line of duty which they indicate. The more
pliant and supple the soul is to the Divine suggestions, the more
real and efficacious is her own action, though without any ex
cited and troubled movement. The more a soul receives from
God, the more she ought to restore to Him of what she hath
from Him. This ebbing and flowing, if one may so express it,
this communication on the part of God and the correspondent
action on the part of man, oonstitute the order of grace on the
one hand, and the action and fidelity of the creature on the
other.

OF MADAME GUYON. 409
ARTICLE THIRTIETH.
It would be a mistake to suppose, that the highest state of
inward experience is characterized by great excitements, by rap
tures and ecstasies, or by any movements of feeling which would
be regarded as particularly extraordinary.
One of the remarkable results in a soul of which faith is the ,
sole governing principle, is, that it is entirely peaceful. Nothing
disturbs it. And being thus peaceful, it reflects distinctly and
clearly the image of Christ ; like the placid lake, which shows,
in its own clear and beautiful bosom, the exact forms of the |
objects around and above it. Another is, that having full faith !
in God and divested of all selfishness and resistance in itself, it /
is perfectly accessible and pliable to all the impressions of grace.
ARTICLE THIRTY-FIRST.
It does not follow, that those who possess the graces of a truly i
sanctified heart, are at liberty to reject the ordinary methods :
and rules of perception and judgment. They exercise and value
wisdom, while they reject the selfishness of wisdom. The rules
of holy living would require them every moment to make a
faithful use of all the natural light of reason, as well as the <-
higher and spiritual light of grace.
A holy soul values and seeks wisdom, but does not seek it in
an unholy and worldly spirit. Nor, when it is made wise by the
Spirit of wisdom, who dwells in all hearts that are wholly de
voted to God, does it turn back from the giver to the gift, and
rejoice in its wisdom as its own.
The wisdom of the truly holy soul is a wisdom which estimates
things in the present moment. It judges of duty from the facts
which now are; including, however, those things which have a
relation to the present. It is an important remark, that the
present moment necessarily possesses a moral extension; so that,
in judging of it, we are to include all those things which have
a natural and near relation to the thing actually in hand. It
is in this manner that the holy soul lives in the present, com-

410 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
mitting the past to God, and leaving the future with that ap
proaching hour which shall convert it into the present. " Sufficient
to the day is the evil thereof." To-morrow will take care of
itself; it will bring, at its coming, its appropriate grace and
light. When we live thus, God will not fail to give us our
daily bread.
Such souls draw on themselves the special protection of Pro
vidence, under whose care they live, without a far extended
and unquiet forecast, like little children resting in the bosom
of their mother. Conscious of their own limited views, and
keeping in mind the direction of the Saviour, Judge not that
ye be not judged, they are slow to pass judgment upon others.
They are willing to receive reproof and correction ; and, separate
from the will of God, they have no choice or will of their own
in anything.
These are the children whom Christ permits to come near
Him. They combine the prudence of the serpent with the sim
plicity of the dove. But they do not appropriate their prudence
to themselves as their own prudence, any more than they ap
propriate to themselves the beams of the natural sun, when they
walk in its light.
These are the poor in spirit, whom Christ Jesus hath declared
blessed ; and who are as much taken off from any complacency
in what others might call their merits, as all Christians ought
to be from their temporal possessions. They are the " little
ones," to whom God is well pleased to reveal His mysteries,
while He hides them from the wise and prudent.
ARTICLE THIRTY-SECOND.
The children, in distinction from the mere servants of God,
have the liberty of children. They have a peace and joy, full
of innocency. They take with simplicity and without hesita
tion the refreshments both of mind and body. They do not
speak of themselves, except when called to do it in providence,
and in order to do good. And such is their simplicity and truth
of spirit, they speak of things just as they appear to them at the

OF MADAME GUYON. 411
moment ; and when the conversation turns upon their own works
or characters, they express themselves favourably or unfavour
ably, much as they would if they were speaking of others. If,
however, they have occasion to speak of any good of which
they have been the instrument, they always acknowledge, with
humble joy, that it comes from God alone.
There is a liberty, which might more properly be called!
license. There are persons who maintain that purity of heart ren- j
ders pure, in the subjects of this purity, whatever they are prompted I
to do, however irregular it may be in others. This is a great error./
ARTICLE THIRTY-THIRD.
It is the doctrine of Augustine, as also of Thomas Aquinas, .
that the principle of holy love existing in the heart, necessarily
includes in itself, or implies the existence, of all other Christian
virtues. He who loves God with all his heart, will not violate
the laws of purity, because it would be a disregard of the will
of God, which he loves above all things. His love, under such
circumstances, becomes the virtue of chastity. He has too much >
love and reverence for the will of God to murmur or repine
under the dispensations of His providence. His love, under such
circumstances, becomes the virtue of patience. And thus this
love becomes by turns, on their appropriate occasions, all the
virtues. As his love is perfect, so the virtues which flow out of
it, and are modified from it, will not be less so.
It is a maxim in the doctrines of holiness, that the holy soul
is crucified to its own virtues, although it possesses them in the
highest degree. The meaning of this saying is this : The holy
soul is so crucified to self in all its forms, that it practises the
virtues without taking complacency in its virtues as its own, and
even without thinking how virtuous it is.
ARTICLE THIRTY-FOURTH.
The Apostle Paul speaks of Christians as dead. " Ye are
dead," he says, " and your life is hid with Christ in God."
(Coloss. iii. 3.) These expressions will apply, in their full im-

412 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
port, only to those Christians who are in the state of unselfish
or pure love. Their death is a death to selfishness. They are
dead to pride and jealousy, self-seeking and envy, to malice,
inordinate love of their own reputation, anything and every
thing which constitutes the fallen and vitiated life of nature.
They have a new life, which is " hid with Christ in God."
ARTICLE THIRTY-FIFTH.
Some persons of great piety, in describing the highest re
ligious state, have denominated it the stale of transformation.
But this can be regarded as only a synonymous expression for
the state of pure love.
In the transformed state of the soul, as in the state of pure
love, love is its life. In this principle of love all the affections
of the soul, of whatever character, have their constituting or
their controlling element. There can be no love without an
object of love. As the principle of love, therefore, allies the
soul with another, so from that other which is God, all its
power of movement proceeds. In itself it remains without pre
ference for anything ; and consequently is accessible and pliant
to all the touches and guidances of grace, however slight they
may be. It is like a spherical body, placed upon a level and
even surface, which is moved with equal ease in any direction.
The soul in this state, having no preferences of itself, has but
one principle of movement, namely, that which God gives it.
In this state the soul can say with the Apostle Paul, " / live ;
yet not I, but Christ liveth in me."
ARTICLE THIRTY-SIXTH.
Souls which have experienced the grace of sanctification in
its higher degrees, have not so much need of set times and
places for worship as others. Such is the purity and the strength
of their love, that it is very easy for them to unite with God in
acts of inward worship, at all times and places. They have an
interior closet. The soul is their temple, and God dwells in it.
I This, however, does not exempt them from those outward

OF MADAME GUYON. 413

methods and observances which God has prescribed. Besides, 1
they owe something to others ; and a disregard to the ordinances I
and ministrations of the Church could not fail to be injurious to /
beginners in the religious life.

ARTICLE THIRTY-SEVENTH.
The practice of confession is not inconsistent with the state of i
pure love. The truly renovated soul can still say, Forgive us I
our trespasses. If it does not sin now, deliberately and know- ;
ingly, still its former state of sin can never be forgotten.
ARTICLE THIRTY-EIGHTH.
In the transformed state, or state of pure love, there should .
be not only the confession of sins, properly so called, but also \
the confession of those more venial transgressions, termed faults. ';
We should sincerely disapprove such faults in our confession ;
should condemn them and desire their remission ; and not merely
with a view to our own cleansing and deliverance, but also be- '
cause God wills it, and because He would have us to do it for
His glory. ARTICLE THIRTY-NINTH.
It is sometimes the case, that persons misjudge of the holiness ,,
of individuals, by estimating it from the incidents of the out- 1
ward appearance. Holiness is consistent with the existence, in!
the same person, of various infirmities ; (such as an unprepos- j
sessing form, physical weakness, a debilitated judgment, anj
imperfect mode of expression, defective manners, a want of
knowledge, and the like.) ARTICLE FORTIETH.
The holy soul may be said to be united with God, without
anything intervening or producing a separation, in three par
ticulars. First. — It is thus united intellectually ; — that is to say, not
by any idea which is based upon the senses, and which of course

414 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
could give only a material image of God, but by an idea which
is internal and spiritual in its origin, and makes God known to
us as a Being without form.
Second. — The soul is thus united to God, if we may so express
it, affectionately. That is to say, when its affections are given
to God, not indirectly through a self-interested motive, but
simply because He is what He is. The soul is united to God in
love without anything intervening, when it loves Him for His
own sake.
Third. — The soul is thus united to God practically ; — and
this is the case when it does the will of God, not by simply fol
lowing a prescribed form, but from the constantly operative im
pulse of holy love. ARTICLE FORTY-FIRST.
We find in some devout writers on inward experience, the
phrase spiritual nuptials. It is a favourite method with some
of these writers, to represent the union of the soul with God by
the figure of the bride and the bridegroom. Similar expressions
are found in the Scriptures.
We are not to suppose that such expressions mean anything
more, in reality, than that intimate union which exists between
God and the soul, when the soul is in the state of pure love.
ARTICLE FORTY-SECOND.
We find again other forms of expression, which it is proper to
notice. The union between God and the soul is sometimes de
scribed by them as an " essential " union, and sometimes as a
" substantial" union, as if there were a union of essence, sub
stance, or being, in the literal or physical sense. They mean to
express nothing more than the fact of the union of pure love,
with the additional idea that the union is firm and established ;
not subject to those breaks and inequalities, to that want of
continuity and uniformity of love which characterize inferior
degrees of experience.

OF MADAME GUYON. 415
ARTICLE FORTY-THIRD.
It is the holy soul of which St. Paul may be understood
especially to speak, where he says, " As many as are led by the
Spirit of God, they are the sons of God." (Rom. viii. 14.) '
Those who are in a state of simple faith, which can always be
said of those who are in the state of pure love, are the " little
ones" of the Scriptures, of whom we are told that God teaches
them. " I thank thee," says the Saviour, " 0 Father, Lord of
heaven and earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise
and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes." (Luke x. 21.)
Such souls, taught as they are by the Spirit of God which dwell
eth in them, possess a knowledge which the wisdom of the
world could never impart. But such knowledge never renders
them otherwise than respectful to religious teachers, docile to
the instructions of the Church, and conformable in all things to
the precepts of the Scriptures. ARTICLE FORTY-FOURTH.
The doctrine of pure love has been known and recognised as
a true doctrine among the truly contemplative and devout in all '
ages of the Church. The doctrine, however, has been so far
above the common experience, that the pastors and saints of all
ages have exercised a degree of discretion and care in making it .
known,, except to those to whom God had already given both
the attraction and light to receive it. Acting on the principle
of giving milk to infants and strong meat to those that were more
advanced, they addressed in the great body of Christians the
motives of fear and of hope, founded on the consideration of
happiness or of misery. It seemed to them, that the motive of
God's glory, in itself considered, a motive which requires us to
love God for Himself alone without a distinct regard and refer-,
ence to our own happiness, could be profitably addressed, as a
general rule, only to those who are somewhat advanced in in
ward experience.

' 416 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
ARTICLE FORTY-FIFTH.
Among the various forms of expression indicative of the
highest experience, we sometimes find that of " Divine union,"
or " union with God."
Union with God, not a physical but moral or religious union,
necessarily exists in souls that are in the state of pure love.
The state of " Divine union" is not a higher state than that of
pure love, but may rather be described as the same state.
Strive after it ; but do not too readily or easily believe that
you have attained to it. The traveller, after many fatigues and
dangers, arrives at the top of a mountain. As he looks abroad
! from that high eminence, and in that clear atmosphere, he sees
| his native city'; and it seems to him to be very near. Overjoyed
| at the sight, and perhaps deceived by his position, he proclaims
himself as already at the end of his journey. But he soon finds
that the distance was greater than he supposed. He is obliged
to descend into valleys, and to climb over hills, and to surmount
rugged rocks, and to wind his tired steps over many a mile of
weary way, before he reaches that home and city, which he once
thought so near.
It is thus in relation to the sanctification of the heart. True
' holiness of heart is the object at which the Christian aims. He
beholds it before him, as an object of transcendent beauty, and
as perhaps near at hand. But as he advances towards it, he
finds the way longer and more difficult than he had imagined.
But if on the one hand we should be careful not to mistake an
( intermediate stopping-place for the end of the way, we should be
equally careful on. the other not to be discouraged by the diffi
culties we meet with ; remembering that the obligation to be
holy is always binding upon us, and that God will help those
who put their trust in Him.
" Whatsoever is born of God, overcometh the world ; and this
is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith."
(1 John v. 4.)

OF MADAME GUYON. 417
In the preceding view I have omitted a number of passages
which were exclusively Roman Catholic in their aspect, in being
of less interest and value to the Protestant reader than other
parts.

CHAPTER XLVI.
1697 — The appointment of Fenelon as Archbishop of Cambray — Importance attached to his
opinions — Opinions of some distinguished men on the " Maxims of the Saints" — Decided
course of Bossuet — Feelings of Louis XIV. towards Fdnelon — Characters of Bossuet and
F€nelon compared — The true question between them — Notices of some of the more im
portant publications of Bossuet — Remarks on the work entitled "A History of Quietism"
— Correspondence with the Abbe* de Rancc.
In the contest arising in other quarters, Madame Guyon was
comparatively forgotten. The publication of the " Maxims of
the Saints" at once turned all thoughts and eyes to Fenelon.
The theological and controversial position of Fenelon had
become the more important, and attracted the more attention,
in consequence of his eminent ecclesiastical rank. Such had
been his success as a missionary in Poitou, so conscientious and
faithful his labours aB tutor of the Duke of Burgundy and the
other grandchildren of the king, that he had been appointed, a
little more than a year previous to this time, Archbishop of
Cambray ; with the understanding that he should continue to
spend at least three months of the year at Versailles, in the in
struction of the young princes.
Fenelon had not used the name of Madame Guyon ; but his |
work so clearly recognised the doctrine of Pure Love, that he
was naturally regarded as her expounder and defender. Thei
doctrines she advocated had given great offence ; and the public
feeling, heightened by the instrumentality of prominent eccle
siastics, could not be satisfied with permitting her to remain at
large. If the views of Madame Guyon were heretical and her
personal efforts dangerous, the heresy was not diminished, and
the danger was not less, under the present auspices. Was it
right and manly on the part of the principal agents in these
2d

418 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
transactions, that Madame Guyon should be condemned, and
the Archbishop of Cambray, who had added the authority of his
great learning and influence to her opinions, should be approved ?
— that one should be imprisoned, and that the other should
escape without notice ? These were questions which naturally
arose at the present time.
The position of Fenelon was no longer a matter of uncer
tainty. On the great question of the fact and of the mode of
present sanctification, he had spoken in a manner too clear to be
mistaken. And those who understood his character knew that
he was too conscientious either to abandon his position, or to be
unfaithful in defending it, without a change in his convictions.
Naturally mild and forbearing in his dispositions, he was in
flexible in his principles. Incapable of being influenced by flat
teries on the one hand, or threats on the other, he asserted only
what he believed ; and he felt himself morally bound to defend
the ground he had taken, although he had no disposition to do
it otherwise than in the spirit of humility and candour. It be
came necessary, therefore, on the part of his opponents, either to
concede that he was right, or to show that he was wrong ; either
to admit that the alleged heresy was not a heresy, or to include
a name so distinguished in the category of those who had devi
ated from the strictness of the Catholic faith.
Some of the leading men in France, De Noailles, Pirot, a
theologian of great eminence, Tronson, and some others, gave
an early attention to the book of Fenelon, and examined it with
care. The spirit of piety which pervaded it was so pleasing to
some of them that they seemed unwilling to condemn it. Mon
sieur de Noailles in .particular, Archbishop of Paris and a cardi
nal, and Godet-Marais, Bishop of Chartres, men whose opinions
could not fail to have great weight, saw so much of truth and
merit in the work, that they were disposed to let it pass in
silence. But it was not so with Bossuet, whose feelings seem
to have become somewhat exasperated towards the new sect.
" Take your own measures," said Bossuet ; " I will raise my
voice to the heavens against those errors so well known to you.

OF MADAME GUYON. 419
I will complain to Rome, to the whole earth. It shall not be<
said that the cause of God is weakly betrayed. Though I
should stand single in it, I will advocate it."
The courage of Bossuet had a support which was better
known to himself than to others. He knew that in attacking,
the doctrines of Fenelon, he should be found a defender of the
opinions of the throne.
If Louis XIV. had no love for Madame Guyon, he bad as
little, and perhaps less, for Fenelon. Their minds were differ
ently constituted. There was no common bond of sympathy.
In obedience to public sentiment, and in accordance undoubtedly
with his own convictions of duty, he had nominated Fenelon to
the archbishopric of Cambray ; but his want of personal interest
in him was so-distinctly marked as to be noticed and mentioned
both by the Duke of St. Simon and the Chancellor D'Aguesseau.
There was something peculiarly commanding in the personal
appearance of Fenelon. His mind, possessing that moral simpli
city and strength, which he inculcated in his writings, left its
impress of calm and dignified serenity in his countenance, and
gave ¦ a character to his manners. Vice withdrew from him ;
and hypocrisy stood abashed in his presence. These writers
observe that Fenelon, while he possessed a great superiority of
genius, exhibited also an elevation of moral and personal char
acter, of which the king of France stood in awe.
Bossuet, aroused once more to a sense of his position as the
guardian of the Church, and strong also in the favour of the
king, no longer concealed his intentions. Fenelon, on the other
hand, although he foresaw what it would cost him, was equally
ready to defend a doctrine which he believed to be in accordance
with the Scriptures, and sanctioned by the opinions of many au
thorized writers. The distinguished character of the combatants j
gave increased interest to the controversy. Men looked on with ,
a sort of awe, as they beheld this conflict of the two great minds '¦
of France. "Then," says the Chancellor D'Aguesseau, "were
seen to enter the lists two combatants, rather equal than alike J
one of them of consummate skill, covered with the laurels he

420 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
had gained in his combats for the Church, an indefatigable
warrior. His age and repeated victories might have dispensed
him from further service; but his mind, still vigorous and
superior to the weight of years, preserved, in his old age, a great
portion of the fire of his early days. The other, in the strength
and manhood of earlier life, was not as yet much known by his
writings ; but, enjoying the highest reputation for his eloquence
and the loftiness of his genius, he had long been familiar with
the subject that came under discussion. A perfect master of its
facts and language, there was nothing in it which he did not
comprehend ; nothing in it which he could not explain ; and
everything he' explained appeared plausible."
Bossuet had the experience of age ; Fenelon had the energy
lof manhood. Bossuet had the greater powers 'of argument ;
Fenelon possessed the richer imagination. Both were masters of
style, but in different ways : the one spoke and wrote with the
confidence, and something of the dogmatism, of a teacher ; the
jother, in gentler accents, seems to converse with us as a friend.
Bossuet was naturally a man of strong passions, strengthened
probably by controversy, and that ascendency over other minds,
which it had become the habit to concede to him. Fenelon was
naturally mild and amiable, without the weakness which often
¦ attaches to amiable dispositions ; — and this interesting trait had
been strengthened by the principles he had inculcated, and by
his personal piety. Both were eminently eloquent in the pulpit,
as well as in their writings ; but their eloquence partook of the
peculiarities of their characters. The one was argumentative and
vehement ; stronger in the thunders of the law than in the in
vitations of the Gospel ; carrying the intellects and hearts of his
hearers, as if by a mighty force. The other, rejecting on prin
ciple those arts of authority and of intellectual compulsion, which
he felt he had the power to apply, won all hearts by the sweet
accents of love.
In the long list of great names of English theology and litera
ture, we do not recollect any who, standing alone, fully represent
these distinguished men. It might aid, however, our conceptions

OF MADAME GUYON. 42 1
of them, if we should add, that Bossuet can hardly fail to remind |
one of the expansive and philosophic mind of Burke, combined
with the heavy strength and dictatorial manner of Johnson.'
Fenelon had a large share of the luxuriant imagination of Jeremy!
Taylor, chastened by the refined taste and classic ease of Addison.
This was in reality the great question between them : Can a ,
man be holy in this life or not ? Can he love God with all his I
heart or not ? Can he " walk in the Spirit ;" or must he be more
or less immersed in the flesh ? Fenelon very correctly said, when ,
he was charged by Bossuet with introducing a new spirituality,
" It is not a new spirituality which I defend, but the old." There
probably has not been any period in the history of the Church, j
in which the doctrine of present sanctification has not been agi- '
tated ; — not a period, in which, while the great mass of Christians
have complained of the "body of sin" which they have carried
about with them, there have not been some who have been deeply ,
conscious of the constant presence and indwelling of the Holy
Ghost, and of their entire union with God.
At one time the views and feelings of Bossuet and FeneloD on
this subject approximated. To a considerable portion of the1
work of Bossuet, entitled, Instructions on Prayer, Fenelon would
have cheerfully assented. In repeated instances, Bossuet spoke
favourably of the doctrines of Madame Guyon, except a few pecu
liarities of expression. But new influences had arisen ; strongly
marked parties had made their appearance ; new causes of dis
trust and alienation had presented themselves ; and what at first-
seemed a harmless exaggeration of the authorized doctrines of
the Church, at last assumed the form of an odious heresy.
The publications in this controversy occupy more than two ,
quarto volumes of the writings of these distinguished men.
The advocates of Fenelon and of Madame Guyon maintained,
that the doctrines found in their writings were supported by a
continuous succession of testimonies from the time of the Apostles
down to that period, i
In answer, Bossuet published his work, entitled, The Tradi'
tionary History of the New Mystics. This treatise does not enter

422 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
into the subject in its full extent ; being occupied chiefly with
an examination of the opinions of Clement of Alexandria, and of
passages which are found in the works that are circulated under
the name of Dionysius the Areopagite. It is an interesting
specimen of theological and literary criticism, conducted with
great ingenuity, but with doubtful success.
Another work soon appeared, entitled, A Memoir of the Bishop
of Meaux, addressed to the Archbishop of Cambray, on the
Maxims of the Saints. Five distinct papers or articles appeared, at
different times, under this title. The first is dated July 15, 1697.
The doctrine of Fenelon may be reduced to three leading pro
positions. First, The provisions of the Gospel are such, that
men may gain the entire victory over their sinful propensities,
and live in constant and accepted communion with God. Second,
Persons are in this state, when they love God with all their
heart ; in other words, with pure or unselfish love. Third, There
have been Christians, though probably few in number, who, so
far as can be decided by man's imperfect judgment, have reached
: this state ; and it is the duty of all, encouraged by the ample
provision which is made, to strive to attain to it.
It is obvious, I think, that Bossuet felt considerable reluctance
in attacking this doctrine in its general form. He felt much
safer in directing his objections against the development of it in
particulars. Accordingly, in the third section of the first Me
moir, he selects forty-eight propositions, or more truly and pro
perly, forty-eight sentences and parts of sentences, to which he
makes objections more or less specific and important. Some of
these objections are strongly put undoubtedly ; others appear
to be founded upon a misconception ; and others, again, are
illustrations of those mere verbal critioisms, to which almost
every literary and theological performance is exposed in conse
quence of the imperfection of language.
Another work of Bossuet is entitled An Answer to four Let
ters of the Archbishop of Cambray. Fenelon had written the
letters to which he refers, in answer to the Memoir of the Bishop
of Meaux. The work of Fenelon is characterized by forbearance

OF MADAME GUYON. 423
and kindness. He endeavoured to carry into the controversy the
principles of bis belief and heart. The work of Bossuet gives pain
ful evidence that his increased interest in the discussion had begun
to be embittered by feelings of impatience and personal alienation.
There is another important work of Bossuet, entitled, A Sum~
mary of the Doctrine of the Archbishop of Cambray, written
both in French and Latin. To this work.Fenelon made a reply
which attracted much attention. Bossuet, in allusion to this
reply, made the following remark in one of his subsequent pub
lications : — " His friends say everywhere, that his reply is a tri
umphant work ; and that he has great advantages in it over me.
We shall see hereafter whether it is so."
On this remark, which seemed to indicate a degree of asperity
of feeling, Fenelon commented afterwards, in a letter which he
addressed to Bossuet, in the following terms : — " May Heaven
forbid that I should strive for victory over any person ; least of
all, over you ! It is not man's victory, but God's glory, which
I seek ; and happy, thrice happy, shall I be, if that object is
secured, though it should be attended with my confusion and
your triumph. There is no occasion, therefore, to say, We shall
see who will have the advantage. I am ready now, without
waiting for future developments, to acknowledge that you are my
superior in science, in genius, in everything which usually com
mands attention. And in respect to the controversy between us,
there is nothing which I wish more than to be vanquished by
you, if the positions which I take are wrong. Two things only
do I desire, — truth and peace ; — truth which may enlighten,
and peace which may unite us."
Among other publications of Bossuet, in this remarkable con
troversy, were the two learned treatises in Latin, entitled,
Mystici in Tuto, and Schola in Tuto. The object of the last-
mentioned treatise is to show, that the schoolmen did not recog
nise and teach the doctrine of pure love ; at least in the sense
in which Fenelon understood it. In this opinion, I think it may
be conceded that Bossuet is generally correct.
The object of the other work is to show that the class of

424 life and religious experience
writers denominated the Mystics, who are experimental rather
than speculative and critical, are also either equally ignorant
of it or are equally opposed to it. Some of these writers are
such imperfect masters of the art of literary composition, they
express themselves with so little of rhetorical precision, that it
would be an easy thing for an ingenious man, who paid more
attention to the word than to the thought, to perplex them by
the aid of their own declarations, and to place them even in
opposition to themselves, out of their own writings. But, as a
general statement, nothing can be more clear than that these
writers agree in this doctrine. It is their favourite doctrine.
They abound in expressions and passages, so strong, so remark
able, that we cannot help the conviction, that their hearts, as
well as their heads, speak. They taught perfect love, because it
seemed to some of them at least, that they had it.
But we will not undertake to go through with this enumera
tion. Take it all in all, the subject of discussion, the men who
were engaged in it, its multiplied relations, the historical, theo
logical, and literary ability displayed in it, it was a controversy
perhaps not exceeded in interest by any of which we have record.
•Fenelon was not idle. He showed himself at home on every
proposition, and not more a master of language than of every
form of legitimate argument.
Bossuet, surprised at the strength and skill of his antagonist,
and exposed to defeat after fifty years of victory, made a renewed
and still more vigorous effort in a new work, which he denomi
nated tho History of Quietism, which is as much narrative in
its character as argumentative. Of this work, Charles Butler,
in his Life of Fenelon, speaks in the following terms : — " In
composing it, Bossuet availed himself of some secret and confi
dential writings which he had received from Madame Guyon,
also of private letters written to him by Fenelon, during their
early intimacy, and of a letter which, under the seal of friend
ship, Fenelon had written to Madame de Maintenon, and which,
in this trying hour, she unfeelingly communicated to Bossuet.
The substance of these different pieces, Bossuet connected toge-

OP MADAME GUYON. 425
ther with great art, — he interwove in them the mention of many
curious facts, gave an entertaining account of Madame Guyon's
visions and pretensions to inspiration ; and related many inter
esting anecdotes of the conduct of Louis XIV. and of Madame
de Maintenon during the controversy. And this was not all.
He so dignified his narrative from time to time with bursts of
lofty and truly episcopal eloquence ; — he deplored so feelingly
the errors of Fenelon ; — he presented his own conduct during
their disputes in so favourable a view, and put the whole toge
ther with such exquisite skill, and expressed it with so much
elegance and even brilliancy of language, as excited universal
admiration, and attracted universal favour to its author. In one
part of it he assumed a style of mystery, and announced ' that
the time was come, when it was the Almighty's will, that the
secrets of the union (that is to say, of the undue intimacy be
tween La Combe, Fenelon, and Madame Guyon) should be
revealed.' A terrible revelation was then expected ; it seemed
to appal every heart ; it seemed that the existence of virtue
itself would become problematical, if it should be proved that
Fenelon was not virtuous."
This performance of Bossuet, which in its literary features
deserves all the encomium which Butler has passed upon it,
could not fail to excite universal attention. There is a letter of
Madame de Maintenon extant, which shows the eagerness with
which it was read. " They talk here (at Versailles) of nothing
else; they lend it; they snatch it from one another; they de
vour it." There was a natural desire on the part of men of
taste to read anything that came from the hand of Bossuet.
But under the existing circumstances, religious zeal, more than
anything else, instigated the principle of curiosity. When the
Church was in danger, how was it possible to remain indifferent?
There were some also, like the Athenian who was tired of hear
ing Aristides called the Just, wearied with what was constantly
said of the disinterestedness and virtue of Fenelon, who seized
with avidity upon everything that promised to obscure the lustre
of his character.

426 life and religious experience
When this remarkable work appeared, the consternation of
the friends of Fenelon was very great. Strong in the confidence
of his own integrity, and never doubting the care of an over
ruling Providence, Fenelon, who wished to retain a Christian
spirit in the bitterness of controversy, had at first no intention
to answer it. But his friends informed him, particularly the
Abbe de Chanterac, on whose opinions he had great reliance,
that the impression against him was so strong as to render a full
refutation of it absolutely necessary. On further reflection,
therefore, he wrote the reply, under the title of an Answer to
the History of Quietism, in about six weeks. The work of
Bossuet appeared in the middle of June ; the reply of F6nelon
was published on the third of August.
If the work of Bossuet was ingenious and eloquent, as any
thing which appeared from his pen could hardly be otherwise,
the reply of Fenelon was not less so, " A nobler effusion," says
Butler, " of the indignation of insulted virtue and genius, elo
quence has never produced. In the very first lines of it, Fenelon
placed himself above bis antagonist, and to the last preserves
his elevation."
"Notwithstanding my innocence," says Fenelon, "I was always
apprehensive that the controversy might take the shape of a
dispute in relation to facts. I well knew, that such a dispute
between persons who sustained the office of Bishop, must occa
sion no small degree of scandal. If, as the Bishop of Meaux
has a hundred times asserted, my work on the Maxims of the
Saints in relation to the Interior Life, considered in its theolo
gical and experimental aspects, is full of the most extravagant
contradictions and the most monstrous errors, why does he in*
troduc'e other topics, and have recourse to other discussions,
which must be attended with the most terrible of scandals?
Why does he reveal to libertines what he terms, speaking of
myself, a woful mystery, a prodigy of seduction ? Why, when
the propriety of censuring my book is the sole question, does ha
travel out of its text, and introduce other matters ?
" The reason of this course is here. The Bishop of Meaux

OF MADAME GUYON. 427
begins to find it difficult to establish the truth of his accusations
of my doctrine. In his inability to convict me of theological
error, he calls to his aid the personal history of Madame Guyon,
and lays hold of it as he would of some amusing romance, which
he thought would be likely to make all his mistakes of my doc
trine disappear and be forgotten. And not only this, he attacks
me personally. No longer satisfied with unfavourable insinua
tions, he boldly publishes on the house-top what he formerly
only ventured to whisper. And, in doing this, I am obliged to
add, that he has recourse to a mode of proceeding, which human
society condemns not only as wrong, but as odious.
" The secret of private letters, written in intimate and reli- ;
gious confidence, (the most sacred after that' of confession,) has
nothing sacred, nothing inviolable to him. He produces my
letters to Rome ; he prints letters which I wrote to him in
the strictest confidence. But all will be useless to him ; — he ¦
will find that nothing that is dishonourable ever proves ser
viceable." In some passages of the work of Bossuet the complaint is
made, that improper influences had been used, that cabals and
factions were in motion in Fenelon's favour. Fenelon replied
by asserting, if such were the case, it could not be ascribed to
himself personally, who was at that time banished from the
court in a state of exile. " The Bishop of Meaux," he says,
" complains that cabals and factions are in motion ; that passion
and interest divide the world. Be it so. But what interest can
any person have to stir in my cause ? I stand single, and am
wholly destitute of human help ; no one, that has a view to his
interest, dares look upon me. ' Great bodies, great powers,' says
the bishop, ' are in motion.' But where are the great bodies, the
great powers that stand up for me ? These are the excuses the
Bishop of Meaux gives, for the world's appearing to be divided
on his charges against my doctrine, which at first he represented
to be so completely abominable as to admit of no fair explana
tion. This division, in the public opinion, on a matter which
be represented to be so clear, makes him feel it advisable to shift

428 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
the subject of dispute from a question of doctrine to a personal
charge." " If the Bishop of Meaux," he adds, " has any further writing,
any further evidence to produce against me, I conjure him not
to do it by halves. Such a proceeding, which leaves a part
untold, is worse than any full and open publication. Whatever
he has against me, I conjure him to announce it, and to forward
it instantly to Rome. I thank God that I fear nothing which
will be communicated and examined judicially. I fear nothing
but vague report and unexamined allegation."
He concludes by saying, " I cannot here forbear from calling
to witness the adorable Being whose eye pierces the thickest
darkness, and before whom we must all appear. He reads my
heart. He knows that I adhere to no person, and to no book ;
that I am attached to Him alone and to His Church ; that, in
cessantly, in His holy presence, I beseech Him, with sighs and
tears, to shorten the days of scandal, to bring back the shepherds
to their flocks, and to restore peace to His Church ; and, while
He once more reunites all hearts in love, to bestow on the Bishop
of Meaux as many blessings as the Bishop of Meaux has inflicted
crosses on me."
" Never did virtue and genius," says Butler, " obtain a more
, complete triumph. Fenelon's reply, by a kind of enchantment,
• restored to him every heart. Crushed by the strong arm of
' power, abandoned by the multitude, there was nothing to which
he could look but his own powers. Obliged to fight for his
honour, it was necessary for him, if he did not consent to sink
under the accusation, to assume a port still more imposing than
that of his mighty antagonist. Much had been expected from
him ; but none had supposed that he would raise himself to so
prodigious a height as would not only repel the attack of his
antagonist, but actually reduce him to the defensive."
Much to the credit of Fenelon, he seemed entirely willing that
his own high character should stand or fall with that of Madame
Guyon. The king of France had shown himself decidedly
hostile to her ; Madame de Maintenon, once her warm friend,

OF MADAME GUYON. 429
had either adopted new views, or fallen under unpropitious in
fluences ; the prominent men of the Church were almost all
united against her ; her character, as well as her opinions, had
been assailed ; and, apparently deserted by every one, she was
at the present time shut up in prison. Fenelon, who had a
mind too pure to estimate virtue by the public favour or the
want of public favour which attended it, was not the person to
forsake her at this trying time.
Bossuet attacked her, in a manner not the most ingenuous,
by secret insinuations. Fenelon defended her by facts and argu
ments. He not only produced the honourable testimonials both
in respect to her piety and morals, which had been given her
by Bishop D'Aranthon some time before, but he drew a strong
argument in her favour from the conduct of Bossuet himself,
who had repeatedly examined her in relation to her opinions,
who had expressed himself in a favourable manner on more than
one occasion, who just before her imprisonment at Vincennes had
administered the sacramental element to her, and given her an
honourable written testimonial.
In the second century, in the reign of Marcus Aurelius, a
religious sect sprang up called the Montanists, from Montanus,
a Phrygian by birth ; probably a man of piety, whose specula
tive opinions on religion were vitiated by a mixture of error.
His doctrines attracted the attention of the churches of that
period, and were condemned as heretical. His reputation for
piety, however, was so great, that he drew after him many
followers ; among others, two distinguished Phrygian ladies,
Priscilla and Maximilla, whose zeal was such that they were
willing to become his disciples at the great and perhaps criminal
expense of leaving their families. Priscilla, in particular, be
came one of the active teachers and leaders of the sect.
Bossuet compared Fenelon and Madame Guyon to Montanus
and his friend and prophetess Priscilla. Fenelon exclaimed
against the comparison, as calculated to bring odium upon him.
Bossuet, in justifying what he had said, admitted that, though
Montanus and Priscilla were closely connected with each other

430 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
in their religious views and efforts, there never had been any
reason to suspect any improper intercourse between them, and
that the relation between them was nothing more than a com
munity and intercourse of mere mental illusion. And in making
reference to them, he wished to be understood as merely saying,
that the relation of Madame Guyon and Fenelon was of the
same nature.
This partial retraction did not entirely satisfy Fenelon. " Does
my illusion," he says, " even in the modified form in which you
now present it, resemble that of Montanus ? That enthusiastic
and deluded man detached from their husbands two wives, who
followed him everywhere. The result of his instructions and
example was to inspire in them the same false spirit of prophecy
with which he himself was actuated. And it cannot be unknown
to you, that, in the unhappy and wicked excitements to which
their system led, two of them, Montanus and Maximilla, strangled
themselves. And such is the man on whom succeeding ages
have looked with disapprobation, and even with horror, to whom
you think it proper to compare me. And you say farther, that
I have no right to complain of the comparison. And I say in
reply, that I have undoubtedly less reason to complain for my
self, than I have to grieve for you ; — you, who can coolly say,
that you accuse me of nothing, and cast no improper reflection
upon me, when you make such a comparison. I repeat that
you have done a greater injury to yourself than to me. But
what a wretched comfort is this, when I see the scandal it brings
into the house of God t I can rejoice in no dishonour which
you may incur by such attempts to injure myself. Such joy
belongs only to heretics and libertines."
" The scandal was not so great," says the Chancellor D'Agues
seau, " while these great antagonists confined their quarrel to
points of doctrine. But the scene was truly afflicting to all
good men, when they attacked each other on facts. They differed
from each other so much in their statements that it seomecl
impossible that both of them should speak the truth ; and the
public saw with great concern that one of the two prelates must

OF MADAME GUYON. 431
bo guilty of prevarication. Without saying on which side the
truth lay, it is certain that the Archbishop of Cambray con
trived to obtain, in the opinion of the public, the advantage' of
probability." At this time, among the distinguished men of France, was the
Abbe de Ranee. In early years a man of the world, and de
voted to its pleasures and honours, his conversion was remark
able. But from the day that his eye was opened to . the truth
of God, and his heart felt its influences, he left no doubt of his
purpose to live to God alone. Established in the office of
regular Abbot of the monastery of La Trappe, he projected and
carried into effect a wonderful reform of the monks under his
care, who had previously become immersed in sloth, and aban
doned to shameful excesses. The keen eye of this remarkable
man, from the rocks and forests of his almost impenetrable seclu
sion, watched with great attention the contest between Fenelon
and Bossuet. The following letters, addressed to Bossuet, will
show what his feelings were ; — and if a man so pious, and in
general so candid, could express himself with so much severity,
I think we can infer from it how deep must have been the
general feeling. De Ranee' distinctly acknowledged the import
ance of the principle of faith ; it would be uncharitable to doubt
that he himself was a sincere believer ; but attaching great
importance to those physical restraints, humiliations, and suffer
ings, which go under the name of austerities, he was alarmed
at the diminished estimation in which they appeared to be held
in the writings of Madame Guyon and Fenelon. This I think
was the secret of the peculiar tone of his letters.
" La Trappe, March 1697.
" To the Bishop of Meaux. — I confess, sir, that I cannot be
silent. The book of the Archbisflop of Cambray has fallen into
my hands. I am unable to conceive how a man like him could
be capable of indulging in such phantasies, so opposite to what
we are taught by the gospel, as well as by the holy tradition of
the Church. I thought that all the impressions, which might

432 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
have engendered in him this ridiculous opinion, were entirely
effaced ; and that he felt only the grief of having listened to
them ; but I was much deceived. It is known that you have
written against this monstrous system — that is, that you have
destroyed it ; for whatever you write, sir, is decisive. I pray to
God that He may bless your pen, as He has done on so many
other occasions ; and that He may gift it with such energy, that
not a stroke it makes but what shall be a blow. While I cannot
think of the work of the Archbishop of Cambray without indig
nation, I implore of our Lord Jesus Christ that He will give
him grace to be sensible of his errors."
In a letter of the 14th of April following, the Abbe de Ranee'
expresses himself still more harshly, respecting the book of the
Archbishop of Cambray : —
" If the chimeras of these fanatics were to be received," says
he to Bossuet, " we must close the book of God ; — we must
abandon the gospel, however holy and necessary may be its prac
tices, as if they were of no utility ; — we must, I say, hold as
nothing the life and actions of Jesus Christ, adorable as they are,
if the opinions of these mad men are to find any credence in the
mind, and if their authority be not entirely extirpated from it.
It is, in short, a consummate impiety, hidden beneath singular
and unusual phrases, beneath affected expressions and extraordi-.
nary terms, all of which have no other end than to impose upon
the soul and to delude it."
The letters of the Abbd de Ranee, contrary in all probability
to his own expectations, were made public, and great efforts were
made to circulate them. As the letters were not addressed to
Fenelon, and were apparently written with no design of their
being published, he did not make any formal reply to them. A
few months afterwards, however, he had occasion to address a
Pastoral Letter to the clergy of his own diocese. The letter,
while it did not entirely exclude some other appropriate topics,
was a learned and eloquent defence of the doctrine of pure love,
as expressing a true, desirable, and possible form of Christian
experience. This letter seemed to Fenelon to furnish a suitable

OF MADAME GUYON. 433
opportunity to open a correspondence with De Ranee. He ac
cordingly sent to the Abbe a copy of it, accompanied by the
following letter, addressed to the Abbe himself : —
" Cambray, October 1697.
" To the AbbiS de Rance. — I take the liberty, my reverend
father, of sending you a Pastoral Letter, which I have issued
respecting my book. This explanation seemed to me to be
necessary, as soon as I perceived from your letters, which were
made public, that so enlightened and experienced a man as your
self had conceived me in a manner very different from my mean
ing. I am not surprised that you believed what was said to you
against me, both with regard to the past and the present. I am
not known to you ; and there is nothing in me which can render
it difficult to believe the evil which is reported of me. You
have confided in the opinion of a prelate whose acquirements
are very vast. It is true, my reverend father, that if you had
done me the honour to write to me respecting anything which
may have displeased you in my book, I should have endeavoured
either to remove your displeasure, or to correct myself. In case
you should be thus kind, after having read the accompanying
pastoral letter, I shall still be ready to profit by your knowledge,
and with deference. Nothing has occurred to alter in me those
sentiments which are due to you, and to the work which God
has performed through you. Besides, I am sure you will not be .
hostile to the doctrine of disinterested love, when that which is ¦
equivocal in it shall be removed ; and when you are convinced t
how much I should abhor to weaken the necessity of desiring j
our beatitude in God. On this subject I wish for nothing more i
than what St. Bernard has taught with so much sublimity, and j
which you know better than I do. He left this doctrine to his j
children as their most precious inheritance. If it were lost and
forgotten in the whole world beside, it is at La Trappe, where
We should still find it in the hearts of your pious ascetics. It is
this love which gives their real value to the holy austerities ,'
which they practise. This pure love, which leaves nothing to
2 E

434 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
i nature, by referring everything to grace, does not encourage
illusion, which always springs from the natural and excessive
I love of ourselves. It is not in yielding to this pure love, but in
not following it sufficiently, that we are misled. I cannot con
clude this letter without soliciting of you the aid of your prayers,
, and of those of your community. I have need of them ; — you
love the Church ; — God is my witness that I wish to live but for
her, and that I should abhor myself, if I could account myself
as anything on this occasion. — I shall ever be, with sincere
veneration, yours, &c. — Francis, Archbishop of Cambray."
Such was the reputation for piety of the Abb6 de Ranc£,
that few men in France at that time, perhaps none, could have
done Fenelon so much injury. But how calmly and triumph
antly does the gentle and purified spirit of Fenelon carrry him
above the violence which issued from the solitude of La Trappe !
De Ranee had faith ; but not enough to subdue the fears, the
agitations, and the injustice of nature.
The faith of Fenelon was of that triumphant kind which can
forgive its enemies, and turn the other cheek to him who has
smitten us. " We know not," says M. de Bausset, in his Life
of Fenelon, " whethor the Abbe de Ranee replied to this letter.
It must have caused hini some regret for having expressed him
self with so much asperity concerning a bishop who wrote to
him with such mildness and esteem. It is certain, however, that
the name of the Abbe of La Trappe was heard no more in the
course of this controversy."

CHAPTER XLVII.
1697-1099 — Tho controversy brought before the Pope — He appoints commission el's — Divi
sions in regard to it — The decision delayed—Dissatisfaction of the King — He writes to tho
Pope — Banishes Ffinelon — Letter of Fonelmi to Madame de Maintenon — Interest in the
behalf of Fenelon by the Duke of Burgundy — Conversation of the King with the Duke of
Beauvilliers — His treatment of tho Abbe" Beaumont and others — Letter of F6noIon to the
Duke of Beauvilliers — Second letter to the King— Condemnation of F/cnelon.
, It was seen at an early period of tbe controversy, that there
was no probability of its being settled by any tribunal short of

OF MADAME OUYON. 435
the highest authority of the Roman Catholic Church. Innocent ,
XII., a man of a benevolent and equitable spirit, filled the papal
chair. The subject was pressed upon him with great earnest
ness, by persons supposed to act in accordance with the wishes of
Louis XIV.
It was a matter of great grief to the Pope, that such a con- ,'
troversy on such a subject should be brought before him. He
had indulged the hope that the business might be settled in
France by mild and conciliatory measures ; and went so far as
to order his nuncio to express this wish. The suggestion was
entirely unavailing. Louis was so strongly impressed that the
doctrine of Fenelon was heretical ; it had caused such great dis
cussions and divisions in France ; and in many ways it had been
so brought before his notice, and had so implicated itself in his
various relations, that it had become a personal concern. Nothing
would satisfy him but its formal condemnation.
The position of Innocent was a trying one. Such were the
relations between him and the king of France, that it would
probably have occasioned much difficulty between them, if he
had declined giving attention to this matter.
The Pope appointed a commission of twelve persons, called
consultors, to examine the book of Fenelon and give an opinion
upon it. They were directed to hold their meeting in the cham
ber of the master of the Sacred Palace. Having discussed the
principles and expressions of the book, in twelve successive
sittings, they found themselves so divided in opinion, that no
satisfactory result could reasonably be anticipated. They were
accordingly dissolved.
His next step was to select a commission or congregation of
cardinals, in the hope that they would be able to come to some
conclusion. This body also had twelve sittings. They found
themselves, ^however, greatly divided; came to no conclusion,
and were dissolved.
He then appointed a new congregation of cardinals. They
met in consultation no less than fifty-two times. The result of
their deliberations was, but by no means with entire unanimity,

436 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
j that they extracted from Fenelon's work a number of proposi-
: tions which they regarded as censurable, and reported them to
the Pope. After they had advanced so far, they held thirty-
seven meetings to settle the form of the censure. In addition
j to these more formal meetings, private conferences on the sub-
| ject were frequently held by the Pope's direction, and sometimes
' in his presence.
The cardinals Alfaro, Fabroni, Bouillon, and Gabriellio, and
some others perhaps of less note, took the side of Fenelon. Men
of no ordinary learning and power, they maintained with great
ability, that the doctrine in question had authority .and support
in many approved Catholic writers. They did not hesitate, in
the least, to defend the statements repeatedly made by Fenelon
in his arguments with Bossuet and on other occasions, that it
was a doctrine not only received but greatly cherished by many
pious and learned men in all ages of the Church ; by Clement,
Cassian, Dionysius, Thauler, Gerson, De Sales, John of the
Cross, St. Theresa, the Bishop of Bellay, and others ; and to
this they were willing to add, that there was not more of such
learned and pious authority in its favour, than there was of
Scripture and reason. Gabriellio said, on one occasion, expressly,
that it was a doctrine conformed to the Scriptures, the Fathers,
and the Mystics.
They did not, however, in maintaining the doctrine of pure
love, exclude the idea of a suitable regard to our own happiness.
They seem to have taken the ground, that God and ourselves,
considered as objects of love, are incommensurable ; and conse
quently, that the motive of God's love, exceeding the other be
yond all comparison, practically absorbs and annihilates it. So
that a soul wholly given to God, may properly be said to love
God alone. But the doctrine of God alone does not exclude
other things, since God is All in All. In other words, in loving
God for Himself alone, who is the sum of all good, we cannot
help loving ourselves, our neighbour, and everything else in
their proper place and degree. Alfaro, in concluding some re
marks, at one of these meetings, read a letter addressed many

OF MADAME GUYON. 437
ages before, by St. Louis of France, to one of his daughters, in
which he advised her to do everything from the principle of
pure love.
Among other things, they expressed no small degree of dis
satisfaction with the course the controversy had taken in certain
respects ; remonstrating strongly against the attempt to con
found doctrines with men, to implicate the permanency of truth
with the imperfections of character, and to support a doubtful
argument by personal defamation. It was much to their credit,
when they saw the efforts constantly made in high places and
low, to destroy the character of Fenelon, that they gave their
opinions freely and boldly in his favour. " Consider a moment,"
said Cardinal Bouillon, " who it is that you propose; to con
demn, a distinguished Archbishop, prudent and wise in tho
government of his diocese, who combines with a literary taste
and power not exceeded by that of any other person in the king
dom, the utmost sanctity of life and manners." They went so
far as to intimate, that, if the doctrine of pure love were con
demned, sustained as it was by such a weight of authority
and argument, and encircled as it was by so many strong
affections, — it could hardly fail to produce a schism in the
Church. The leading men on the other side were the Cardinals Mas-
soulier, Pantiatici, Carpegna, Casanata, and Granelli. Their
arguments were directed against the doctrine, partly in its
general form, and partly against particular expressions and
views, which characterized it, in the writings of Fenelon. So
far as their arguments were general, they were very much the
same as are employed against it at the present day. They
maintained that it was a state too high to be possessed and
maintained in the present life ; that there were many things
in the Scriptures against it ; that the exaggerated expressions
in the mystical or experimental writers of the Catholic Church
ought to be received in a modified sense ; that it was either
modified or rejected by a great majority of their theological
writers and other writers not of the mystical class; and that

438 LIFE AND religious experience
it had been attended, in a number of instances, with practical
disorders. The contest between the two parties was animated, and some
times violent. For a time it seemed doubtful what would be
the result. The discussion was thus continued from 1697 to
1699, a period of nearly two years, under the eye and in the
presence of the Pope. The king of France, who was in frequent
communication with Bossuet, became impatient, on learning
doubts which he did not himself entertain, and a delay which he
did not anticipate.
In order to hasten an issue, he had written at an earlier
period a letter to the Pope, in which he denounced the book of
the Archbishop of Cambray, as erroneous and dangerous, and
as already censured by a great number of theological doctors
and other learned persons. He added, that the explanations
more recently given by the Archbishop were inadmissible ; and
concluded by assuring the Pope, that he woidd employ all his
authority to obtain the due execution of his Holiness' s decree.
This letter, drawn up by Bossuet, was dated the 26th of July
1697. The desires and feelings of the king were made known in
other ways still more painful. When Fenelon was first appointed
Archbishop of Cambray in 1695, his character was so much
esteemed and his services were regarded so important, that the
king insisted he should spend three months in the year at Ver
sailles in the instruction of the young princes.
Six days after the date of the letter to the Pope, the king
' wrote a letter or order to Fenelon, which might properly be
denominated an order of banishment, in which he required him
to leave Versailles, and repair to the diocese of Cambray, and
forbade him to quit it. It was added further, that he was not
at liberty to delay his departure any longer than was absolutely
necessary to arrange his affairs.
Those principles of inward experience, which so triumphantly
sustained Madame Guyon in her imprisonment, received a new
confirmation in the victory which they now achieved in F6nolon.

OF MADAME GUYON. 439
The very moment he received from the king the order which
thus banished him from all places out of his own diocese, he
wrote tho following letter to Madame dc Maintenon. Bausset
says, that he copied it from the original manuscript in Fenelon's
handwriting : — " Versailles, Aug. 1, 1697.
" In obedience to the king's commands, Madame, I shall de
part from this place to-morrow. I would not pass through
Paris, did I not feel it difficult to find anywhere else a man fit
to attend to my affairs at Rome, and who would be willing to
make the journey thither. I shall return to Cambray with a
heart full of submission, full of zeal, of gratitude, and of the
greatest attachment towards the king. My greatest grief is,
that I have harassed and displeased him. Not a day of my life
shall pass over, that I will not pray to God to bless him. I am
willing to be still more humbled. Tho only thing that I would
implore of his Majesty is, that the diocese of Cambray, which is
guiltless, may not suffer for the faults that are imputed to me.
I solicit protection only for the Church ; and I limit this pro
tection to the circumstance of being free to perform the little
good that my situation will permit me to perform as part of
my duty.
" It only remains, Madame, that I request your forgiveness
for all the trouble I may have caused you. God knows how
much I regret it ; and I will unceasingly pray to Him, until He
alone shall occupy your whole heart. I shall, all my life, be as
sensible of your past goodness, as though I had never forfeited
it ; and my respectful attachment towards you, Madame, will
never diminish."
" We may easily conceive," says Bausset, " what an effect
this letter, every line of which breathes nothing but mildness,
affection, and serenity, had upon Madame de Maintenon. Re
calling all her former friendship for Fenelon, she could not con
ceal from herself the active part which she had taken in his
present disgrace. It cannot, indeed, be doubted, that this letter
left a painful and durable impression upon her heart. She tells

440 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
us, herself, that her health was impaired in consequence ; and
that she did not conceal the cause of her illness from Louis XIV.
The monarch himself seemed, at first, to be a little hurt ; and
could not help peevishly exclaiming to her, as he marked her
affliction, — So it seems, Madame, we are to see you die in conse
quence of this business."
The Duke of Burgundy, who had owed so much to Fenelon,
was no sooner informed of the order of exile, than he hastened to
throw himself at the feet of the king, his grandfather. He ap
pealed to himself and to the renovation of his own heart and
life, as a proof of the purity of the life and maxims of his faithful
and affectionate instructor. Louis was touched by an attach
ment so ingenuous and generous. But fixed in his principles of
belief, and invariable in whatever he had decided, he merely
replied to the young prince, " My son, it is not in my power to
make this thing a matter of favour. The purity of religious faith
is concerned in it. And Bossuet knows more on that subject than
either you or I."
i On the second of August, Fenelon departed from Versailles,
never to return again. He remained at Paris only twenty-four
hours. He cast a tender and last look towards the seminary of
St. Sulpitius, in which he had spent the peaceful and happy
years of his youth. A motive of delicacy, nevertheless, forbade
his entering' its walls. He feared that he might involve in his
own sorrow and disgrace his former friend and instructor, Mon
sieur Tronson, who had the charge of it. He, however, wrote
him a few lines, in which he expressed his veneration and
gratitude ; and, asking the continuance of that good man's
prayers, of which he said he had much need in his sufferings,
he went on his way.
It was but a few months after he had reached Cambray, and
was assiduously engaged in his religious duties among his own
people, when he received intimations that the way was open for
his return on certain conditions. To this he refers in a letter
to the Abbe de Chanterac, dated Dec. 9, 1697 : " It is reported,"
he says, " that the only means by which I can appease the king,

OF MADAME GUYON. 441
obtain my return to court, and prevent all scandal, is to remove
the present unfavourable opinions by an humble acknowledgment
of error. But I assure you, that I have no present nor future
idea of returning to court. If I am in error, it is my desire to
be undeceived. But as long as I am unable to perceive my
error, it is my purpose to justify my position with unceasing
patience and humility. Be assured that I will never return to
court at the expense of truth, or by a compromise, which would
leave the purity either of my doctrine or of my reputation in
doubt." The friends of Fenelon were, to some extent, involved in his
calamities. Foremost among them was the Duke of Beauvil
liers. He believed in the doctrine of pure love, originated and
sustained by faith in the Son of God ; and he had experienced
in his own renovated heart the effects which this doctrine, more
than any other, is calculated to produce. He was the avowed
and known friend of Madame Guyon, as well as of Fenelon.
The king was offended with him. Taking Beauvilliers aside,
soon after the banishment of the Archbishop of Cambray, he told
him how much he was dissatisfied at his connexion with a person
whose doctrines were so much suspected. He intimated to him
distinctly, that his continuance in such a course would be likely
to be attended with the most unpleasant consequences.
Beauvilliers assured him of his entire conviction, that the
princes who had been under the care of the Archbishop of Cam
bray had not been infected with any erroneous or dangerous
doctrine. He then proceeded to say, — " I remember, Sire, that I
recommended to your Majesty the appointment of Fenelon to
be the preceptor of the Duke of Burgundy. I can never repent
that I did so. I have been the friend of Fenelon ; I am his
friend now. I can submit to whatever your Majesty may impose
upon me ; but I cannot eradicate the sentiments of my heart.
The power of your Majesty has raised me to my present position :
the same power can degrade me. Acknowledging the will of God
in the will of my king, I shall cheerfully withdraw from your
court whenever you shall require it ; regretting that I have

442 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
displeased you, and hoping that I may lead hereafter a life of
greater tranquillity."
The king, overawed by the nobleness of his sentiments, or
fearing the rashness of the course which he had threatened, per
mitted him to remain in his place.
On the 2d of June 1698, the king deprived the Abbe Beau
mont and the Abbe de Langeron of their title of sub-preceptors.
" The former was Fenelon 's nephew ; the latter was his most
tender and faithful friend. Messieurs M. Dupuy and De Les-
chelle, gentlemen who held situations about the person of the
young prince, were dismissed on the same day, and ordered to
quit the court. The pretext for their dismission was their par
tiality for the spiritual maxims of the Archbishop of Cambray.
The real motive was their affectionate and inviolable fidelity to
wards him.
" All of them had been concerned in the education of the Duke
of Burgundy for nine years ; — and the excellence of this educa
tion has been detailed. They were dismissed without receiving
the slightest reward for their services. Thus severely were
punished the men, who had transformed the vices of the Duke
of Burgundy into virtues ; a severity which could have been
justified only, had they changed his virtues into vices."
Fenelon felt more deeply the disgrace and suffering of his
1 friends than his own ; but he maintained the same equanimity
and triumphant faith, which had supported him hitherto. In a
letter, which he wrote at this time to the Duke of Beauvilliers,
we find the following expressions, which indicate very clearly,
how patient and lovely is the heart that is wholly given to
God:— " I cannot avoid telling you, my good duke, what I have at
heart. Yesterday I spent the day in devotion and prayer for
the king. I did not ask for him any temporal prosperity, for of
that he has enough. I only begged that he might make a good
use of it ; and that, amidst such great success, he might be as
humble as if he had undergone some deep humiliation. I
begged that he might not only fear God and respect religion, but

OF MADAME GUYON. 443
that he might also love God, and feel how easy and light His
yoke is to those who bear it less through fear than love. I never
found in myself a greater degree of zeal ; or, if I may venture
to use the expression, of affection to his person.
" Far from being under any uneasiness at my present situa
tion, which might have suggested unpleasant feelings against
him, I would have offered myself with joy to God, for the sanc
tification of the king. I even considered his zeal against my
book as a commendable effect of his religion, and of his just
abhorrence of whatever has to him the appearance of novelty.
Desirous that he might be an object of the Divine favour, I called
to mind his education without solid instruction, the flatteries
which have surrounded him, the snares laid for him in his youth,
the profane counsels that were given him, the distrust that was
with so much pains instilled into him against the excesses of
certain professors of devotion ; and lastly, the perils of greatness,
and so great a multiplicity of nice affairs. I own, that with all
these things in view, I had great compassion for a soul so much
exposed. I judged his case deserved to be lamented ; and I
Wished him a more plentiful degree of mercy to support him in
So formidable a state of prosperity. In all this I had not, as I
apprehended, the least interested view ; for I would have con
sented to a perpetual disgrace, provided I knew that the king
was entirely after God's own heart.
" As far as relates to myself, all I can say is, I am at peace in
the midst of almost continual sufferings. Trusting in God's
assistance to sustain me, the scandals which my enemies cast
upon me shall neither exasperate nor discourage me."
One object of these proceedings of the king of France, was to
make an impression at Rome. They were a part of a plan of
intimidation ; but they did not have the immediate effect anti
cipated. Public opinion was still divided ; there had been a
want of unanimity in the debates and decisions of the congrega
tion of the cardinals at Rome ; the Pope himself hesitated to
give a decision.
Under these circumstances, Louis, near the close of the year

444 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
1698, wrote another letter, which was despatched to the Pope by
an extraordinary courier. It was as follows : —
" Most Holy Father, — At the time when I expected from
the zeal and friendship of your Holiness, a prompt decision upon
the book of the Archbishop of Cambray, I could not learn, with
out grief, that this decision, so necessary to the peace of the
Church, is still retarded by the artifices of those who think it
their interest to protract it. I see so clearly the fatal conse
quences of this delay, that I should not consider myself as duly
supporting the title of eldest son of the Church, were I not to
reiterate the urgent entreaties which I have so often made to
your Holiness, and to beg of you to calm, at length, the anxieties
of conscience which this book has caused. Tranquillity can now
be expected only from the decision that shall be pronounced by
the common father ; — but let it be clear and precise, and capable
of no misinterpretations ; — such a decision, in fact, as is necessary
to remove all doubt with regard to doctrine, and to eradicate the
very root of the evil. I demand, most holy Father, this decision,
for the good of the Church, the tranquillity of the faithful, and
for the glory of your Holiness. You know how truly sensible I
am, and how much I am convinced of your paternal tenderness.
To such powerful and important motives, I would add, the
attention which I entreat you to pay to my request, and the filial
respect with which I am,
" Most holy Father, your truly devoted Son, " Louis."
Under such circumstances as these, on the 12th of March
1 1699, a decree was issued under the signature of the Pope, con
demning the book of Fenelon, or perhaps more properly condemn
ing twenty-three propositions, purporting to be extracted from
it. The Pope, however, took the pains to say, and to have it
understood, that they were condemned in the sense which they
might bear, or which they were actually regarded as , bearing
in the view of others, and not in the sense in which they were

OF MADAME GUYON. 445
explained by Fenelon himself. " The Pope," says Monsieur de
Bausset, " had openly declared on many occasions, that neither
be nor the cardinals had intended to condemn the explanations
which the Archbishop of Cambray had given of his book."
To such a condemnation Fenelon could have comparatively
but little objection. It was really not a condemnation of himself,
but of others who undertook to speak and to interpret for him. .
While he was sincere and firm in his own belief, he had no dis
position to defend the misconceptions and perversions of other
people. To what extent, however, he availed himself of the
suggestion which thus dropped from the Pope, we have no means
of knowing. Certain it is, whatever view he took of the act of]
condemnation, he made no complaint. He thought it his duty
to be submissive to the higher authorities of his Church. He
received the news of his condemnation on the Sabbath, just as
he was about to ascend his pulpit to preach. He delayed a few
moments ; changed the plan of his sermon, and delivered one
upon the duty of submission to the authority of superiors.
From that time he ceased to write controversially upon the
subject. But, without regarding what was said by others, and
in the discharge of his own duties among his own people, he
never ceased to inculcate in his life, his conversations, and his
practical writings, the doctrine of pure love. He thought it his
duty to avoid certain forms of expression, and certain illustra
tions which had been specifically condemned in the papal decree,
and which were liable to misconception ; but it is not easy to see
that he went further. In other words, he condemned sincerely
what he understood the Pope to condemn ; and he did this
without any change, further than has already been intimated, i
either in his life or opinions.

446 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE

CHAPTER XLVIII.
Character of Ftaelon— Labours — Method of preaching— Visits among his people— The pea
sant who lost his cow — The feelings of Fenelon, when the palace was burnt— Conduct
during war — Respect in which ho was held by the belligerent parties — Hospitality — Ex
tract from the Chevalier Ramsay — Of the spirit of quietude or quietism ascribed to him —
Meditations on the infant Jesus — His forbearance and meekness in relation to others-
Views on religious toleration — Feelings in relation to his separation from his friends-
Correspondence with the Duke of Burgundy — His death.
As the personal history of Fenelon is closely connected with
that of Madame Guyon, we propose to occupy a few pages further
with some incidents of his life, and with some general views of
his character.
At an early period Fenelon had devoted himself to the ministry
of Jesus Christ. After he was appointed Archbishop of Cambray,
he had but one object, that of benefiting his people. This was
particularly the case after he was confined by the royal order to
his own diocese. We do not mean to imply, that he had a more
benevolent disposition then, but he had a better opportunity to
exercise it. With a heart filled with the love of God, which can
never be separated from the love of God's creatures, it was his
delight to do good.
He was very diligent in visiting all parts of his diocese. He
preached by turns in every church in it ; and with great care and
faithfulness, examined, instructed, and exhorted both priests and
people. In his preaching he was affectionate and eloquent, but still
very plain and intelligible. Excluding from his sermons super
fluous ornaments as well as obscure and difficult reasonings, he
might be said to preach from the heart rather than from the head.
He generally preached without notes, but not without premedi
tation and prayer. It was his custom, before he preached, to
spend some time in the retirement of his closet ; that he might
be sure that his own heart was filled from tho divine fountain,
before he poured it forth upon the people. One great topic of
his preaching was the doctrine, so dear to him, and for which he
had suffered so much, of pure love.

OF MADAME GUYON. 447
He was very temperate in his habits, eating and sleeping but
little. He rose early ; and his first hours were devoted to prayer
and meditation. His chief amusement, when he found it neces
sary to relax a little from his arduous toils, was that of walking
and riding. He loved rural scenes, and it was a great pleasure
to him to go out in the midst of them. " The country," he says,
in one of his letters, " delights me. In the midst of it, I find
God's holy peace." Everything seemed to him to be full of in
finite goodness ; and his heart glowed with the purest happiness,
as be escaped from the business and cares which necessarily oc
cupied so much of his time, into the air and the fields, into the
flowers and the sunshine of the great Creator.
But in a world like- this, where it is a first principle of Chris
tianity that we should forget ourselves and our own happiness in
order that we may do. good to others, he felt it a duty to make
even this sublime pleasure subservient to the claims of bene
volence. He improved these opportunities to form a personal
acquaintance with some of the poor peasants in his diocese, and
their families, and to counsel and console them. Sometimes,
when he met them, he would sit down with them upon the grass ;
and inquiring familiarly about the state of their affairs, he gave
them kind and suitable advice ; — but above all things, he affec
tionately recommended to them to seek an interest in the Saviour,
and to lead a religious life.
He went into their cottages to speak to them of God, and to
comfort and relieve them under the hardships they suffered. If
these poor people presented him with any refreshments in their
unpretending and unpolished manner, he pleased them much by
seating himself at their simple table, and partaking cheerfully
and thankfully of what was set before him. He shewed no false
delicacy because they were poor, and because their habitations,
in consequence of their poverty, exhibited but little of the con
veniences and comforts of those who were more wealthy. In
the fulness of his benevolent spirit, which was filled with the love
of Christ and of all for whom Christ died, he became in a manner
one of them, as a brother among brothers, or as a father among
bis children.

448 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
There are various anecdotes which illustrate his condescension
and benevolence. In one of these rural excursions he met with
a peasant in much affliction. Inquiring the cause of his grief,
he was informed by the man that he had lost his cow. Fenelon
attempted to comfort him, and gave him money enough to buy
another. The peasant was grateful for the kindness of the arch
bishop, but still he was very sad. The reason was, although the
money given him would buy a cow, it would not buy the cow he
had lost, — to which he seemed very much attached. Pursuing
his walk, Fenelon found, at a considerable distance from the
place of his interview with the peasant, the very cow which was
the object of so much affliction. The sun had set, and the night
was dark ; but the good archbishop drove her back himself to
the poor man's cottage.
The revenues which he received as Archbishop of Cambray
were very considerable ; but he had learned the difficult though
noble art of being poor in the midst of plenty. He kept nothing
for himself. His riches were in making others rich ; his happi
ness, in making the poor and suffering happy. When at Versailles
in the instruction of the young princes^the news came that a
fire had burned to the ground the archiepiscopal palace at Cam
bray, and consumed all his books and writings. His friend, the
Abbe de Langeron, seeing Fenelon conversing with a number of
persons, and apparently much at his ease, supposed he had not
heard this unpleasant news, and began with some formality and
caution to inform him of it. Fenelon, perceiving the solicitude
and kindness of the good Abb6, interrupted him by saying that
he was acquainted with what had happened ; and added further,
although the loss was a very great one, that he was really less
affected in the destruction of his own palace, than he would have
been by the burning of a cottage of one of the peasants.
So elevated and diffusive were his religious principles, that
they rendered him the friend of all mankind. It was not neces
sary for him to stop and inquire a man's creed or nation, as a
preliminary to his beneficence. Occasions were not wanting
which illustrated this remark. The war, which raged near the
commencement of the eighteenth century, between France and

OF MADAME GUYON. 449
Bavaria on the one side, and England, Holland, and Austria on
the other, drew near to the city where he resided. Cambray,
formerly the capital of a small province of the same name in the
north of France, is not far from the Netherlands, which has
sometimes been denominated the battle-field of Europe. At tbe
time of which we are speaking, large armies met in its vicinity,
and battles were fought near it. At this trying time, not only
the residence of Fenelon, but other houses beside, hired by him
for the purpose, were filled with the sick and wounded, and poor
people driven from the neighbouring villages. The expense he
thus incurred, absorbed all his revenues ; but he had no inclin
ation to spare either time, money, or personal effort in these acts
of benevolence ; acts which were shown as kindly and as freely
to the enemies of his country, taken prisoners in the war, as to
those of his own nation.
The sight of the wretched condition of the refugees in his
palace was painful ; many were suffering from the want of pro
per clothing ; others were in agony in consequence of their
wounds, and others were afflicted with distempers that were in
fectious ; but nothing abated his zeal. He appeared among
them daily with' the kindness of a parent; dropping words of
instruction and consolation, and testifying by his tears how
much he was moved with compassion.
The marked respect in which he was held, was not confined
to the French army alone. He was held in equal veneration by
the enemy. The distinguished commanders opposed to France,
the Duke of Marlborough, Prince Eugene, and the Duke of
Ormond, embraced every suitable opportunity of showing their
esteem ; sending detachments of their men to guard his meadows
and his corn : and causing his grain to be transported with a
convoy to Cambray, lest it should be seized and carried off by
by their own foragers. In the discharge of his religious duties,
he went abroad among the people of his diocese, without regard
to the hostile armies which occupied the territory. As he went,
in the discharge of these duties, in the spirit of Him who came
to bring peace on earth and good-will to men, he had faith in a
2f

450 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Divine protection. So far from any violence being offered to
him, the English and Austrian commanders, when they heard
that he was to take a journey in that part of the diocese where
their armies were situated, sent him word that he had no need
of a French escort, and that they would furnish an escort them
selves. It is said that even the hussars of the Imperial troops
did not hesitate to do him service. So true it is that men who
live in the spirit of the Gospel do, by the very force of their
virtue, disarm the hostility of nature.
Among those who were taken prisoners at the battle of De-
main and conducted to Cambray, was Count, afterwards Marshal
Munich. Although he was characterized by great enterprise
and bravery, and had an almost exclusive taste for arms, he was
deeply affected by what he saw of the peaceful virtues and the
truly Christian generosity of Fenelon. He was then young, but
was afterwards one of the most distinguished commanders in the
armies of Russia. His name is associated, in the history of war,
with sanguinary and victorious campaigns in the Crimea. Raised
to the highest place of worldly honour by his talents and courage,
he suddenly fell under the displeasure of the Empress Elizabeth
in 1741, and was banished to Siberia, where he remained an
exile twenty years. He was restored by Peter III. But in all
the vicissitudes of his life, in peace and war, in the court and in
the camp, disgraced and suffering in the deserts of Siberia, or
free and honoured in the halls of princes, he delighted, to the very
close of his life, to remember the happy days which he passed,
as a prisoner of war, in the society of Fenelon ; instructing and
soothing, as it were, the agitations of his own wild and turbulent
spirit by recounting the virtues and actions witnessed at Cambray.
At this very period there was another visitant at Cambray of
a very different character, the celebrated Cardinal Quirini, whose
whole life, as remote as possible from the pursuits of war, was
devoted to learned researches and useful studies. In the prose
cution of literary objects, he visited almost all parts of Europe,
and became acquainted with the most distinguished literary men.
In the account of his travels, which he wrote in Latin, he speaks
very particularly of his interview with Fenelon.

OF MADAME GUYON. 451
" I considered," he says, " Cambray as one of the principal
objects of my travels in France. I will not even hesitate to
confess, that it was towards this single spot, or rather towards
the celebrated Fenelon who resided there, that I was most
powerfully attracted. With what emotions of tenderness I still
recall the gentle and affecting familiarity with which that great
man deigned to discourse with me, and even sought my con
versation ; though his palace was then crowded with French
generals and commanders-in-chief, towards whom he displayed
the most magnificent and generous hospitality. I have still
fresh in my recollection all the serious and important subjects
which were the topics of our discourse. My ear caught with
eagerness every word that issued from his lips. The letters
Which he wrote me, from time to time, are still before me ;—
letters which are an evidence alike of the wisdom of his princi
ples and of the purity of his heart. I preserve them among my
papers, as the most precious treasure which I have in the World."
It is an evidence both of the kindness and faithfulness of
Fenelon, that he endeavours in these very letters to recall the
Cardinal Quirini from a too eager and exclusive pursuit of
¦worldly knowledge, to that knowledge of Jesus Christ which
renews and purifies the soul.
Strangers from all parts of Europe came to see him. Although
the duties of hospitality became a laborious work to him, amid
the multiplicity and urgency of his other employments, he ful
filled them with the greatest attention and kindness. It was
pleasing to see how readily he suffered himself to be interrupted
in his important duties, in order to attend to any, whatever
might be their condition and whatever their wants, who might
call upon him. He did not hesitate to drop his eloquent pen,
with which he conversed with all Europe, whenever Providence
called him to listen to the imperfect utterance of the most ignor
ant and degraded among his people. And, in doing this, he
acted on religious principle. He would rather suffer the greatest
personal inconvenience, than injure the feelings of a fellow-man.
" I have seen him," says the Chevalier Ramsay, " in the course

452 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
of a single day, converse with the great and speak their lan
guage, ever maintaining the episcopal dignity ; afterwards dis
course with the simple and the little, like a good father instruct
ing his children. This sudden transition from one extreme to
the other, was without affectation or effort, like one who, by the
extensiveness of his genius, reaches to all the most opposite dis
tances. I have often observed him at such conferences, and
have as much admired the evangelical condescension by which
he became all things to all men, as the sublimity of his dis
courses. While he watched over his flock with a daily care,
he prayed in the deep retirement of internal solitude. The many
things which were generally admired in him, were nothing in
comparison of that Divine life by which he walked with God like
Enoch, and was unknown to men."
Fenelon, in the language of those who knew his virtue, but
' still were willing to say something to his discredit, was denomi
nated a Quietist. This term is susceptible of a good and a bad
meaning. That quietude is bad which is the result of the igno
rant and unbelieving pride of self; but it is not so with that
'quietude which is the result of an intelligent and believing
acquiescence in the will of God. Thero is certainly great grace
. in being truly and religiously quiet in spirit. It is a remark to
, be found in some of the pagan philosophers, that man can never
be truly happy, until he arrives at such an inward tranquillity
as excludes not only unprofitable actions, but even useless
thoughts. Heathenism had light enough to perceive the truth ;
but, rendered weak in its sins, it had not power enough to realize
it. It is Christianity alone which reveals the way, the truth, and
the life. It is Christianity, realized in the presence and opera
tions of the Holy Spirit, which gives that Divine peace which
nature perceives to be necessary, but which God alone can im
part. The quietude which was ascribed to Fenelon was that
inward rest which the Saviour calls peace ; and of which it is
declared there is no peace to the wicked. It was that state of
mind which the Saviour not only denominates peace, but which
he describes as my peace, in other words Christ's peace, " the

OF MADAME GUYON. 453
peace of God which passeth understanding," that supported the
Archbishop of Cambray, in the trials he endured, and in the
duties of humanity and religion which he was called to discharge.;
" He dismissed, as fast as they arose," says an anonymous
writer, " all useless ideas and disquieting desires, to the end that
he might preserve his soul pure and in peace ; taken up with
God, detached from everything not Divine. This brought him
to such a simplicity as to be far from valuing himself for his
natural talents, accounting all but dross, that he might win
Christ, and be found in Him."
Among his religious meditations we find the following : —
" I adore thee, 0 infant Jesus ! naked, weeping, and lying in
the manger. Thy childhood and poverty are become my delight.
0 that I could be thus poor, thus a child, like thee 1 0 Eternal
Wisdom 1 reduced to the condition of a little babe, take from
me the vanity and presumptuousness of human wisdom. Make
me a child with thee. Be silent, ye teachers and sages of the
earth I I wish to know nothing, but to be resigned, to be will
ing to suffer, to lose and forsake all, to be all faith. The Word
made flesh ! Now silent, now He has an imperfect utterance,
now weeps as a child. And shall I set up for being wise?
Shall I take a complacency in my own schemes and systems ?
Shall I be afraid lest the world should not have an opinion high
enough of my capacity ? No, no ; — all my pleasure shall be to
decrease, to become little and obscure, to live in silence, to bear
the reproach of Jesus crucified, and to add thereto the helpless
ness and imperfect utterance of Jesus a child."
" To die to all his own abilities," says the writer to whom we
have just now referred, " must have been a thing more painful
to him than any other. He understood thoroughly the principles
of almost all the liberal sciences. He had studied the ancients
of all kinds, poets, orators, and philosophers. He was well
acquainted both with their faults and with their beauties. Yet
he rejected that pompous erudition which so powerfully tends to
swell the mind with pride. He thought it his duty to renounce
all the false riches of the mind, and to be wise with sobriety. This

454 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
is what those learned meu and teachers, who are always contend
ing about frivolous questions, will never be able to comprehend."
It was one characteristic of this remarkable and deeply pious
man, that he bore the passions and faults of others with the
greatest equanimity. He was faithful, without ceasing to be
patient. Believing that the providence of God attaches to times
as well as to things, and that there is a time for reproof as well
as for everything else, a time which may properly be denomi
nated God's time, he waited calmly for the proper moment of
speaking. Thus keeping his own spirit in harmony with God,
he was enabled to administer reproof and to utter the most
unpleasant truths without a betrayal of himself, and without
giving offence to others.
" It is often," he said, " our own imperfection which makes
\us reprove the imperfections of others ; — a sharp- sighted self-
1 love of our own, which cannot pardon the self-love of others.
The passions of other men seem insupportable to him who is
t governed by his own. Divine charity makes great allowances
for the weaknesses of others, bears with them, and treats them
with gentleness and condescension. It is never overjhasty in
its proceeding. The less we have of self-love, the more easily
( we accommodate ourselves to the imperfections of others, in order
to cure them patiently, when the right season arrives for it. Im
perfect virtue is apt to be sour, severe, and implacable. Perfect
virtue is meek, affable, and compassionate. It thinks of nothing
but doing good, bearing others' burdens. It is this principle of
disinterestedness with regard to ourselves, and of compassion for
. others, which is the true bond of society."
It was a natural result of his principles, that he inculcated
¦' and practised religious toleration. Without being indifferent to
the principles and forms of religion, he had a deep conviction
that the appropriate weapon of religion, in its defence and in its
extension, is that of love. A man's belief is and ought to be
sacred. We may try to correct it by kind argument ; but in
every act beyond that, we violate the laws of the mind, as well
as the claims of morals, and act without authority. Such were

OF MADAME GUYON. 455
the views of Fenelon ; which be inculcated at a time and under i
circumstances which showed the firmness of his purpose as well ]
as the benevolence of his heart.
When he was appointed a missionary among the Protestants
of Poitou, he accepted this difficult and delicate office, only on
the condition that the king should remove all the troops, and all
appearance of military coercion, from those places to which he
was sent. In the latter period of his life, in the year 1709, he
was visited by a young prince at the episcopal residence. The
Archbishop recommended to him, very emphatically, never to
compel his subjects to change their religion. " Liberty of
thought," said he, " is an impregnable fortress, which no human
power can force. Violence can never convince ; it only makes
hypocrites. When kings take it upon them to direct in matters
of religion, instead of protecting it, they bring it into bondage.
You ought, therefore, to grant to all a legal toleration ; not as
approving everything indifferently, but as suffering with patience
what God suffers ; endeavouring in a proper manner to restore
such as are misled, but never by any measures but those of
gentle and benevolent persuasion."
Fenelon had many friends affectionately attached to him, in
Versailles, Paris, and other parts of France ; but in his banish
ment he saw them but very seldom. Many of them were persons
of eminent piety.
" Let us all dwell," he says in one of his letters, " in our only
centre, where we continually meet, and are all one and the
same thing. We are very near, though we see not one another ;
whereas others, who even live in the same house, yet live at a
great distance. God reunites all, and brings together the re
motest points of distance in the hearts that are united to Him.
I am for nothing but unity ; that unity which binds all the
parts to the centre. That which is not in unity is in separation ;
and separation implies a plurality of interests, self in each too
much fondled. When self is destroyed, the soul reunites inj
God; and those who are united in God are not far from each
other. This is the consolation which I have in your absence, and'

456 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
which enables me to bear this affliction patiently, however long
it may continue."
" Oh I what a beautiful sight," he said frequently, " to see
all kinds of goods in common, nobody looking on his own know
ledge, virtue, joys, riches, as his peculiar property 1 It is thus
that the saints in heaven possess everything in God, without
having anything of their own. It is the flux and reflux of an
infinite ocean of good, common to all, which satiates their desires,
and completes their happiness. Perfectly poor in themselves,
they are perfectly rich and happy in God, who is the true source
of riches. If this poverty of spirit, which, in depriving us of
self, fills us with love, prevailed here below as it should do, we
should hear no more those cold words of mine and thine. Being
one in the abandonment of self, and one in harmony with God,
we should be all at the same time rich and poor in unity."
After Fenelon left Versailles, he never had the opportunity
of seeing his beloved pupil, the Dnke of Burgundy ; and it was
a number of years before they had the means even of corre
sponding with each other. But the Duke never forgot him ; and
Fenelon, on his part, never ceased to counsel and encourage.
" Offspring of Saint Louis ! " he says, in one of his letters
written a short time before the lamented death of the prince,
" be like him, mild, humane, easy of access, affable, compassion
ate, and liberal. Let your grandeur never hinder you from con
descending to the lowest of your subjects, — yet in such a manner
that this goodness may never weaken your authority, nor lessen
their respect. Suffer not yourself to be beset by insinuating
flatterers ; but value the presence and advice of men of virtuous
principles. True virtue is often modest and retired. Princes
have need of her, and therefore ought to seek her out. Place no
confidence in any but those who have the courage to contradict
you with respect, and who love your prosperity and reputation
better than your favour. Make yourself to be loved by the good,
feared by the bad, and esteemed by all. Hasten to reform yourself,
that you may labour with success in the reformation of others."
The effect of the correspondence of Fenelon with the Duke of

OB1 MADAME GUYON. 457
Burgundy may be seen, among other evidences which he gave,
from the following letter : —
TO THE ARCHBISHOP OF CAMBRAY.
" My dear Archbishop, — I will endeavour to make use of
the advice you give me. I ask an interest in your prayers, that
God will give me His grace so to do. Desire of God more and
more, that He will grant me the love of Himself above all
things else ; and that I may love my friends and love my ene
mies in Him and for Him. In the situation in which I am
placed, I am obliged to listen to many remarks, and sometimes
to those which are unfavourable. When I am rebuked for taking
a course which I know to be a right one, I am not disquieted by it.
When I am made to see that I have done wrong, I readily blame
myself. And I am enabled sincerely to pardon all, and to pray
for all, who wish me ill or who do me ill.
" I do not hesitate to admit that I have faults ; but I can also
add, that I have a fixed determination, whatever may be my
failings, to give myself to God. Pray to Him without ceasing,
that He will be pleased to finish in me what He has already be
gun, and to destroy in me those evils which proceed from my
fallen nature. — In respect to yourself, you may be assured that
my* friendship is always the same."
Fenelon died in 1715, at the age of sixty-five. His work was;
accomplished. It was found after his death that he was with-j
out property and without debts. United to Christ, he had no'
fear. As he had the spirit, so he delighted in the language of
the Saviour. His dying words were, " Thy will be done." >
There is, perhaps, not another man in modern times, whose ,
character has so perfectly harmonized in its favour all creeds,
nations, and parties. His religion expanded his heart to the
limits of the world. It was natural, therefore, that the whole ;
human race should love his memory. In the time of the French
Revolution, when the chains fastened by the tyranny of ages,
were rent asunder by infuriated men, who, in freeing themselves

458 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
i from outward tyranny, forgot to free themselves from the domi
nation of their own passions, the ashes of the good and great of
other days, in the forgetfulness of all just distinctions, were
scattered by them to the four winds of heaven. But they wept
over and spared the dust of Fenelon.*

CHAPTER XLIX.
Of the influence of Madame Guyon on Fenelon— Woman's influence— Madame Guyon
transferred from Vincennes to Vaugirard — Religious efforts there — Interference of the
Archbishop of Paris — Feelings of the King towards Madame Guyon— His treatment of
some members of the Seminary of St. Oyr — Removes a son of Madame Guyon from his
ofiice — Proceedings of Bishop of Chartres — Feelings of Madame Guyon in relation to.
Fenelon — Visited by the Archbishop of Paris, who reads to her a letter from La Combe —
Her feelings — A Poem.
The natural traits of Fenelon, remarkable in themselves, were
still more remarkable in the beauty of their combination. Keli-
gion added to the attractions of his character. At an early period
of his life he was a religious man ; — religious in the ordinary
sense of the term, and with a reference to the common standard.
It is impossible to separate the influence of the instructions, of
the exhortations and prayers, and personal life and example of
Madame Guyon, from the benevolent labours and the sublime
faith of Fenelon.
, * [We fear that the French Revolutionists wero not quite so reverential as the text would
' indicate. The following brief statement of a viait by an accomplished lady, will interest
the reader. — English Ed.
" I visited Cambray in 1841. The Revolution had done Its perfect work In his palace,
cathedral, &n& first tomb 1 His memory is revered as the good and great FSnelon. Rue Fgne-
lon. Place Fenelon, and his name given as the Christian name in the families of the citizens,
shows the estimation he Is yet held in. The people spoke of him as if he had lived but yester
day ; his present tomb was raised by the venerable Louis Belmas, who was lying in state
twenty-four hours after his death, when we visited the palace— it was designed by David, in
182S, and is simplo and truthful to history. The Revolutionists in 1703 destroyed the vener
able cathedral, in which lay the romains of its venerable Archbishop. Their blushing
posterity have, by way of making some atonement for their lawless violence, erected a
monument to the memory of a man whose name is immortalized by his talents in the liter
ary world, and in the Ohristian world, by a Christian piety which will »ued Us sweet influ
ence for ever on the hearts of those who believe that God is Love !
"The few remains of Fenelon were collected and deposited in the new tomb; his coffin
had been melted Into bullets In 1793."— A. 8. K.]

OP MADAME GUYON. 459
And if any female should think these pages worthy of her
perusal, let her gather the lesson from these statements, that
woman's influence does not terminate, as is sometimes supposed,
with the moulding and the guidance of the minds of children.
Her task is not finished when she sends abroad those whom she
has borne and nurtured in her bosom, on their pilgrimage of
action and duty in the wide world. Far from it. Man is neither
safe in himself, nor profitable to others, when he lives dissociated
from that benign influence which is to be found in woman's pre
sence and character ; — an influence which is needed in the pro
jects and toils of mature life, in the temptations and trials to
which that period is especially exposed, and in the weakness and
sufferings of age, hardly less than in childhood and youth.
But it is not woman, gay, frivolous, and unbelieving, or
woman separated from those Divine teachings which make all
hearts wise, that can lay claim to the exercise of such an influ
ence. But when she adds to the traits of sympathy, forbearance,
and warm affection, which characterize her, the strength and
wisdom of a well-cultivated intellect, and the still higher attri
butes of religious faith and holy love, it is not easy to limit the
good she may do, in all situations and in all periods of life.
To the last moment of his life, Fenelon bore the most decided;
testimony to the virtues of Madame Guyon ; while his own per-,
sonal history and doctrines were conclusive evidence of the influ
ence she had exerted. "When the controversy between Fenelon:
and Bossuet commenced, Madame Guyon was a prisoner in the]
castle of Vincennes. And we naturally return to the story of
her remarkable life.
From the period in which she gave herself wholly to God, she
was calm and patient. The walls which enclosed her had no
terrors to a heart that recognised the presence of God as dis
tinctly in sorrow as in joy. Not that her feeble constitution did
not suffer, or that she did not feel deeply her separation from her
friends, but she had inward supports, which enabled her to rise
above such sufferings ; and with Paul and Silas she sang songs
in prison.

460 - LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Madame Guyon was imprisoned in the castle of Vincennes on
the 31st of December 1695. She was allowed tho company of
the pious maid-servant who had so long attended her, and was
her daughter in the Gospel ; but she was not permitted, except
under great restrictions, to see her relatives and other friends, or
to correspond with them. Either because her physical system
would not bear such close and long-continued confinement, or
because the principal agents in restraining her were touched
with some degree of pity, after the expiration of nearly a year
she was imprisoned at Vaugirard, a village in the immediate
neighbourhood of Paris, the 28th of August 1696. Her pious
maid-servant was detained for a longer period at Vincennes.
At Vaugirard, from which she was subsequently transferred to
. the Bastile, she remained till September 1698. Her prison at
Vaugirard seems to have been a place of confinement connected
with a monastery at that village. It was understood by her that
she would have a little more liberty than was allowed her at
Vincennes ; and her strong desire to benefit souls returned.
She saw her friends more frequently than she had recently done ;
she corresponded with them, and endeavoured to inspire the true
life of faith in the sisters of the monastery, whenever she had
' opportunity to speak to them.
The Archbishop of Paris, at whose request she had been trans
ferred to Vaugirard, became alarmed. He knew the feelings of
the king, and that it was indispensable that these things should
stop. Accordingly she was reduced to the painful necessity of
signing a paper, in which she agreed expressly to cease from
such labours, on the 9th of October 1696. She promised to
place herself under the watch and direction of the curate of the
seminary of St. Sulpitius ; and, without his express permission,
to receive no visits, hold no conversations, and write no letters.
To one whose life it was to do good, such a prohibition must
have been exceedingly painful. But, as she was entirely in the
power of others, she could not well do otherwise than submit.
Any other course would have merely resulted in the severer im
prisonment of Vincennes. Her only resource now was prayer.

OF MADAME GUYON. 461
It is remarkable, that a man whose mind was occupied with
plans of vast extent, such as perhaps no French monarch before
him had entertained, should enter into a contest, which may
well be called a personal contest, with an unprotected woman.
But so it was.
After the remarkable attention to religion in the Female
Seminary of St. Cyr, which was attributed to the influence of
Madame Guyon, and supposed to be conducted on principles
allied to those of Protestantism, Louis, greatly offended, not only
insisted on the exclusion of Madame Guyon, but came to St.
Cyr personally, instituted an examination into the state of things
himself, and removed from the seminary three of the most pious
ladies connected with it. The only reason assigned was their
sympathy with the new doctrine of an inward and purified life
sustained by faith. So that, like Fenelon, she was obliged to
suffer, not only in her own person, but in the person of her
friends. ¦ Madame Guyon's second son, a young man of promise, had
been appointed a year or two previous a lieutenant in the king's
guards. Nothing was alleged against his character or conduct;
but such was the king's hostility to Madame Guyon, and his
determination to crush her effectually, that he unceremoniously
removed her son from the public service.
The zeal of the king was seconded by the prompt and effec
tive co-operation of a number of the bishops. This was parti
cularly the case with Godet Marais, Bishop of Chartres, within
whose diocese St. Cyr was situated. As the alleged heresy had
made its appearance in a seminary for whose religious character
and interests he felt especially responsible, he issued an eccle
siastical ordinance, in which he condemned the writings of
Madame Guyon, as false, rash, impious, heretical, and tending to
renew the errors of Luther and Calvin.
Not satisfied with this, he instituted personally a minute
examination of all the rooms and private apartments of the
seminary of St. Cyr, and took away all the writings of Madame
Guyon which he found there; and among other things some

462 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
manuscripts and letters of Fenelon. Madame Maisonfort, a
pious and highly educated lady, who had the immediate charge
of the seminary, remonstrated against such violent and unjust
proceedings, without effect.
These transactions, and others like them, took place from
1695 to 1698. They added to the sorrows of Madame Guyon's
imprisonment ; but did not lead her to doubt for a moment the
goodness and truth of God. Both at Vincennes and at Vau
girard, she kept herself informed, to a considerable extent, of
the progress of events. But nothing touched her feelings so
deeply as the trials of Fenelon. She had been the instrument,
in the hands of Providence, of bringing to his notice the great
doctrine of present and entire holiness. With the greatest
earnestness and perseverance, she had watched for him and
prayed for him ; had warned and entreated him. She had the
happiness of seeing her labours and prayers answered. Appre
ciating also his great learning, bis powers of reasoning and
imagination, and his cultivated taste, she naturally indulged
the hope, that he might illustrate and successfully propagate
those religious views which she regarded as so important.
But darkness had gathered upon the prospect, which would
otherwise have been so cheering. When the secular arm had
united with the religious, and kings were in alliance with
bishops, there seemed but little hope. When she thought of
these things, as she sat alone in her solitary cell, tears some
times filled that bright eye which the lapse of half a century
had not yet made dim.
When she had been at Vaugirard nearly two years, the doors
of her prison suddenly opened. Her old acquaintance, Monsieur
de Noailles, Archbishop of Paris, accompanied by Monsieur
Lachetardie, the curate of the seminary of St. Sulpitius, pre
sented himself before her. With a seriousness of air, which
seemed to him to be warranted by the occasion, the archbishop
informed her of the reasons of his coming. He held in his hand
a letter, and read it. It purported to be from Father La Combe,
addressed to Madame Guyon, in which La Combe, without

of Madame guyon. 463
naming them, referred distinctly to irregularities into which
they had both fallen, and exhorted her to repent. The letter
was no sooner read, than the archbishop and the curate, un
favourably impressed by insinuations which seemed to imply
guilt, conjured her, in the most earnest and solemn manner, to
do homage to truth, and to merit forgiveness by a sincere con
fession of her faults.
But, worn down as she was by the sorrows of her imprison-
ment, her offended innocence gave her strength to reply. She
said, however, but little. And it was simply this. The letter
which had been read to her, which she was not permitted to see,
Was either a forgery ; or Father La Combe, worn out by the
severity of his long imprisonment, had entirely lost his powers
of perception and memory, and had written it, without knowing
what he wrote, at the instigation of another. Further than this,
she did not think it her duty to notice this accusation. Her
perfect self-possession, her serious and unaffected air of inno
cence, the conviction which suddenly flashed upon their own
minds, that an attempt had been made to destroy the most de
voted and virtuous of women by the foulest of means, compelled
them to leave her prison with a shame to themselves, hardly less
than the sorrow which they brought to her.
The Becret history of this atrocious movement is not well
known. The long banishment and imprisonments which La
Combe had suffered, as an advocate of the doctrines of Madame
Guyon, had affected both his mental and physical 6ystem. So
obviously was this the case, that those who had the charge of
him thought it necessary to transfer him from the place of his
imprisonment, in a distant part of France, to the public hospital
for sick and lunatic persons established in the village of Charen-
ton, a few miles from Paris. On his way thither, he was lodged
a few days in the castle of Vincennes, where the paper to which
we have referred was prepared, and his signature was obtained.
Shortly after his arrival at Charenton he died ; but it was satis
factorily ascertained, that at the time of his death, and for some
time before, he had not sufficient power of perception and rea-

464

LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE

soning to know what he did, and to render him accountable for
his acts. These circumstances were not known to tbe Arch
bishop of Paris, when the paper, which he was requested to
convey to Madame Guyon, was put into his hands.
The historians of the life of Fenelon agree in asserting, that
this ungenerous and wicked attempt was aimed as much, per
haps still more, at Fenelon, as at Madame Guyon. The enemies
of Fenelon were astonished at the powers of argument and of
eloquence which he displayed in his controversy with Bossuet.
They saw themselves on the point of being defeated ; and, as
Fenelon never denied his acquaintance with Madame Guyon
and his sincere respect and friendship for her, they seemed to
have but one way left to them, that of destroying his reputation
and throwing doubt upon his morals, by first destroying hers.
If there had been anything wrong between Madame Guyon and
La Combe, " it was expected," says Butler, " that the ascer
tainment of the fact would indirectly operate to the detriment of
Fenelon, by exposing his connexion with her to a like suspicion."
The attempt did not succeed ; but originating in the deepest de
pravity, and aimed as she knew it to be at Fenelon as well as
herself, it could not fail to inflict a deep wound upon her already
afflicted spirit.
The following stanzas, without being a translation of any one
poem, embody sentiments which are found in many : —

THE LIGHT ABOVE US.

Torre is a light in yonder skies,
A light unaeen by outward eyea ; —
But clear and bright to inward sense,
It Bhinos, the star of Providence.
The radiance of tho central throne,
It comes from God, and Qod alone; —
The ray that never yet grew pale,
The star that " shines within the veil."

And faith, uncheck'd by earthly fears,
Shall lift its eye, though flll'd with tears.
And while around 'tis dark as night,
Untired, shall mark that heavenly light.
In vain they smite me. Men but do
What Qod permits with different view; —
To outward sight they wield tho rod,
But faith proclaims it all of God. ,

Unmoved, then, let me keep my way,
Supported by that cheering ray.
Which, shining distant, renders clear
The clouds and darkness thronging near.

OF MADAME GUYON. 465

CHAPTEE L.

1698— Transferred to the Bastile— Some account of It— Extract from a letter— Man of the
iron mask — Madame Guyon's maid-servant imprisoned in the Bastile — Her personal his
tory— Religious character — Letters— Death— Situation of Madame Guyon— The religious
support she experienced.
The failure of the attempt to ruin the character of Madame
Guyon, and to involve that of Fenelon, seems to have exaspe-j
rated her enemies more and more. They obtained an order from
the king, which required her to be transferred from Vaugirard '
to one of the towers of the Bastile. She became a prisoner in
that abode of wretchedness in September 1698. ,
The prison, in which Madame Guyon was now incarcerated, .
has become historical. It has been demolished, it is true ; but,
while an interest in the history of the human race remains, it ,
will not cease to be remembered. Its erection began in the year ,:
1370, and it was composed of high and large towers, united
together by thick walls enclosing two large courts, which were
separated from each other by other walls ; the whole being
enclosed by a deep and wide ditch. At the base of all the towers
were dungeons. Each tower, eighty feet in height above the
dungeon, consisted of four stories. The dungeons were below
the level of the ground ; some of them admitted a little light ;
others were perfectly dark. There was no stove or fireplace in
any of them. It was in these dreadful abodes, that the two
princes of Armagnac were immured by the orders of Louis XL ;
one of whom, overcome by the weight of wretchedness and de- (
spair, lost his reason ; the other, set at. liberty upon a change of i
the government, published an account of his sufferings.
Above the dungeons rose successively four apartments, all of
which were prisons, and were in the form of irregular polygons ;
eighteen feet across the floor and eighteen feet high ; except the
upper story, which was a little smaller. The walls were twelve
feet thick at the highest part of the tower, and they increased
in thickness as they approached the bottom. The doors of the
2 G

466 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
prisons in the towers were of oak, and double ; each three inches
in thickness. Each of the prisons above the dungeon had one
window, secured, on the outside, by an iron grate of prodigious
strength. The chimneys also were secured by iron grates, cross
ing the vent at proper distances. The floors were laid with
stone or tiles.
Each tower had its name, and each apartment its number ;
so that it was not necessary to say who the prisoners were when
orders were given in respect to them, or when they happened to
be the subjects of conversation ; but only to mention them in
the language of the place, as No. One, in the tower du TrSsor,
No. Two, in the :tower ,deda Comti, and so on. Most of the
apartments had the same kind of furniture, both as to the num
ber of articles and their quality. It usually consisted of a bed,
a table, a chair, a basin, and a large earthen pitcher for holding
water, a brass candlestick, a broom, and a tinder-box.
When the prisoners entered these dreadful abodes, their names
were entered in a register, with the dates of their arrival, and
the specification. of the towers and the numbers of the towers,
to which they were assigned. Everything was taken from them,
except such clothing as was absolutely necessary. The large
and stony apartments, in which they were enclosed, if they were
so much favoured as to escape an incarceration in the dungeons,
were exceedingly cold in winter ; and as they were not capable
of ventilation, the prisoners suffered no less from the unpleasant
heats of summer ; a grievance which was increased by the steams
issuing from the water that putrified in the ditch below. Iron
cages, and other instruments of torture, were kept in reserve for
those who were refractory.
In one of these abodes of sorrow Madame Guyon was shut up
four years ; and, so far as anything appears on the subject, in
' entire solitary confinement. It was thought necessary, that
twelve feet of thick wall, built up on every side, should guard
her against making any further exertions in the cause of Christ.
Shut out from the world, from her friends, from the pleasant
\ light of the sun, she had nothing to do but to bow in the silence

OF MADAME GUYON. 4671
and acquiescence of religious trust. Deprived of the privilege
of seeing her friends, she was not even allowed to write to
them. But the evidence of her whole life shows what her feelings
must have been ; and that her faith did not cease to be trium
phant, even in this aggravated trial. In one of her letters, writ
ten just before her removal to the Bastile, and in anticipation of
her imprisonment there, which she naturally regarded as a pre
cursor of still harsher treatment, she says : — " I feel no anxiety'
in view of what my enemies will do to me. I have no fear of
anything but of being left to myself. So long as God is with me,
neither imprisonment nor death will have any terrors. Fear not.
If they should proceed to extremities, and should put me to
death, Come and see me die. Do as Mary Magdalene did, who
never left Him that taught her the science of pure love."
In noticing the date of Madame Guyon's imprisonment,; I
could not help being reminded, that but a few feet from her,
perhaps in the next dungeon, was the celebrated prisoner known
in history as the Man of the Iron Mask. A very few persons
knew who he was ; and the Secret has died with them. The
common supposition is, that he was a twin brother of Louis XIV. ;
and that, to prevent his putting forth pretensions to the throne,
he was shut out from all intercourse with men, and even all
knowledge of himself. For the purpose of entire concealment
he wore a mask, of which the lower part had steel springs, con
trived so that he could eat without taking it off.
An old physician of the Bastile, who had often attended this
remarkable man, declared that he had never been allowed to see
his face, though he bad often examined his tongue and other1
parts of his person. When Madame Guyon was shut up in the
Bastile, the Man of the Iron Mask had been a solitary prisoner
thirty-seven years. Probably he did not know his own history ;
he bad scarcely been allowed to see any human being from
infancy ; he lived in the most cruel exclusion from all that makes
life desirable, shut out from nature, from knowledge, and from
man.

468 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
The question naturally arises, Was he excluded from religious.
knowledge ? Had he the consolations of religion ? Did he know
of that peaceful home, where the wicked cease from troubling,,
and where the weary are at rest ? No one can tell. But we
know this : — if the woman of faith and prayer, who was shut up;
within the same massive walls, had known his unparalleled situa
tion, he would have had all that her purified and believing spirit
could have given of warmest sympathy and of earnest sup
plication. Madame Guyon was imprisoned in the Bastile in 1698. Nearly
at the same time, her maid-servant, who remained at Vincennes
after she was transferred to Vaugirard, was also removed to the
Bastile. Madame Guyon became acquainted with her at Paris, at
an early period of her widowhood. She was the instrument, in the
hands of God, of leading her, then a young girl, to the knowledge
of Christ. And seeing in her the traits of good judgment and
firmness of purpose, she employed her as a domestic.
When she left Paris for the distant parts of France and Savoy,
she took this maid-servant with her. It is a proof of the confi
dence of her mistress, that her surviving daughter, Marie Jeanne
Guyon, was intrusted to her special and almost exclusive care.
She was with Madame Guyon at Gex, Thonon, and Grenoble.
When she left Grenoble in 1686, she left her daughter behind
in the care of this maid. On her return from Grenoble to Paris,
her maid-servant came with her. When Madame Guyon was
first imprisoned in the Convent of St. Mary, they were designedly
separated. There is some reason to suppose, that the maid-ser
vant was imprisoned at the same time in the castle of Vincennes.
Afterwards we find them together, in voluntary seclusion, in the
Convent of the Visitation at Meaux. When Madame Guyon
returned to Paris, and found it necessary to conceal herself in an
obscure house in the street of St. Anthony, this maid was with
her. She was discovered by the agents of the police, from the
circumstance, that all the persons going into the house were seen
to enter it by means of private keys, and without knocking at
the door.

OF MADAME GUYON. 469
So deeply imbued was the maid with the principles of the
mistress, that, when Madame Guyon was imprisoned at Vincen
nes, it was thought necessary that her maid-servant should be
incarcerated with her. They were separated when Madame
Guyon was transferred to Vaugirard.
It is not enough to say of this faithful woman, that she was
pious. Her piety, founded upon the principles of consecration
and faith, was intelligent, whole-hearted, and persevering.
One of the remarkable things in her character, which is too
much overlooked by Christians, was her appreciation of God's
providence. She desired to be what God would have her to be,
and to be nothing more and nothing less. She had not a doubt
that God, who had given remarkable powers to Madame Guyon,
had called her to the great work in which she was employed.
But knowing that her beloved mistress could not go alone, but
must constantly have some female attendant, she had the convic
tion equally distinct, that she was called to be her maid-servant.
She could not well avoid the conclusion, that this field of labour
was the sphere of Providence to her ; and though, in a worldly
point of view, it might not have had great attractions, she ac
cepted it with cheerfulness, and filled it with fidelity. And He,
Who called her to this work, alone can tell how much the world
is indebted to the prayers and humble but necessary labours of
this pious servant.
She was a person of a strong understanding. Her letters shew
this. She took a strong hold of the truth ; and her purpose was
fixed to maintain it. Nothing could turn her from what she
believed to be the will of God. Threatenings and promises were
employed to induce her to say something to the disadvantage of
Madame Guyon. But her faith was not of that kind which can
be bought with money. And she seems to have been imprisoned
chiefly for the purpose of preventing her from saying or doing
anything openly or publicly in her favour. It is at least difficult
to divine any other adequate motive.
She did not allow herself to spend time in estimating the com
parative value of God and Mammon. She crucified and trampled

470 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
under foot all that stood between her soul and the divine .will.
She could say in simplicity and truth, but without repining, —
" Oh ! ceaso, my wandering soul,
On restless wing to roam ;
All this wide world, to either pole,
Has not for thee a home."
Her imprisonment, therefore, as she looked forward to another
and dearer abode, was less severe to her than it might have been
to others. But this was owing to her state of mind, and not to
any alleviation and kindness on the part of those who troubled
her. After the departure of Madame Guyon from Vaugirard,
she was in solitary confinement, the most trying situation pos
sible. She was not even allowed to correspond with her friends.
She found means to write a few letters ; but not owing to any
kindness or permission of those who kept her in prison.
The following letter to her brother, found in the French edi
tion of the Life of Madame Guyon, evidences her consistent and
well-established piety. [Prison of Vincennes,  1697.]
" My very dear Brother, — I do not know that I shall ever
have the consolation of seeing you again. I should be glad to
see you, and still more on your account than on my own. That
is to say, I should be glad, if it were God's will ; for I have no
desires and no consolations separate from Him. Whenever I am
permitted to see you, I shall speak freely in relation to Madame
Guyon. If I have hitherto been somewhat reserved in regard to
her, I can mention reasons for it which will satisfy you.
" I am sensible, my dear brother, of the good disposition of
your heart ; and well I know that you love me. I never can
forget your great care and concern in relation to my welfare,
when we were about to part from each other ; and how much
troubled you were in seeing me forsake the advantages the world
held out.
" But God called me, and I was obliged to go. It was the
will of my heavenly Father that I should be separated from
everything that bound me down to earth. It was God who gave

OF MADAME GUYON. 47 1
me strength to withstand the solicitations of a brother's love. If
your house, my dear brother, had been made of precious stones,
and if I could have been treated and honoured in it as a queen,
yet I should have forsaken all to follow God, who called me, not
to pleasures, biit suffering. I bad inward as well as outward
crosses ; but, gently and joyfully, I went on, following God. I
prayed in myself, that I might be faithful to the cross.
" And now, my dear brother, if I had Stopped and attempted
to explain and to reason with you at that time, what would you
have said ? What would you have done ? You would have said,
I was very unwise, very foolish. With very good intentions on
your part, you would have raised a multitude of objections, and
have obstructed my greatest good. You would have stood in
the way of what I cannot fail to regard as my greatest consola
tion yea, my boundless joy, my Sweet repose, which is in all
things to do the will of God. I can truly say, that, standing in
God's will, and doing and suffering His will, I have something
which strengthens, animates, and encourages me ; I am fed with
a nourishment which the world cannot give. And, on the other
hand, not to do God's will, when it is presented before me, is
more dreadful to me than hell. If, when I was called to leave
my friends and home, and go with Madame Guyon, I had refused
to do it, the grace of God would have been taken from me and
given to another. And after such unfaithfulness and such loss,
what could I have done ? I should never have had repose or
quiet of soul, which is to be found in God only.
" But I can talk and reason with you now, my dear brother,
without fear. Your arguments and wishes can now have but
little effect in placing an obstacle between myself and the suf
ferings to which God calls me. There is but little danger of
my getting away from the prison of Vincennes, where I have
been confined twice. I have been in prison this last time nearly
three years. Whether I shall ever be released again in this life
I know not. Perhaps I shall have no other consolation in this
life than what I find in suffering.
" I am not allowed any materials for writing ; nor is it an

472 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
easy thing for written communications to pass in and out of my
cell. Unexpectedly, however, I obtained some sheets of paper ;
and, using soot instead of ink, and a bit of stick instead of a
pen, I have been enabled to write this. But I do it in the ut
most hazard and jeopardy. It is my hope that you will receive
what I write, and that, with the Divine blessing, it may one day
be a means of comforting you in my imprisonment ; for it seems
to me that you have a hundred times more trouble and concern
about it than I have. Not a day passes in which I do not thank
God that He has imprisoned me here. I cannot forget the time
when I laid myself upon His altar, to be His in joy and in sor
row ; and I regard my imprisonment as a pleasing evidence
that He did not reject the sacrifice. In permitting me to suffer
for Him, He has done me a great favour.
" I feel for those who have afflicted and persecuted us. I in
dulge the hope, that God will, in time, open the eyes of those
among them who are upright, but have acted wrongly from false
views. It is my desire especially, that they may be led to under-
: stand and appreciate the character of Madame Guyon ; ' a pre
cious stone,' I may well call her, whose brightness has not been
dimmed, but rather embellished, by their attempts to tarnish
it. Having been with her twelve years, I think I know her
character thoroughly. If it is a blessing to have her personal
acquaintance, it is an_ionour also to share in her sufferings.
Having been the constant witness of her devoted piety, I hope
I have imbibed something of her spirit. It has seemed to me,
, that I have seen the divine nature manifested in her in a re
markable manner ; and, whenever I discover the traces and
footsteps of God, I make haste to follow.
" We are now separated from each other ; I am in this prison
'alone, she in another place ; but we are still united in spirit.
The walls of a prison may confine the body, but they cannot
hinder tbe union of souls. It is the love of Christ which unites
us. It is in Christ, and for Christ's sake, that I love her, and
, that we love each other ; and my love is continually increasing.
" Do not wonder, my dear brother, that I do not go into par-

OF MADAME GUYON. 473
ticulars. Is it not enough to say, that she was an instrument
in the hands of God to bring me to a knowledge of Himself, —
that God whom I now love, and whom I shall love for ever ?
She taught me the great lesson of self-denial, of dying to the
life of nature, and ot living only to the will of God. I never
can forget the diligence she used, the patience she exhibited,
and the holy love which animated her on my behalf. So do not
wonder that I love her. Yea, I love her because she loves the
God whom I love ; and it is with a love which is real, living,
and operative. And this love has the power of uniting our
hearts in a manner which I am unable to express ; but it seems
to me, that it is the beginning of that union which we shall
have in heaven, where the love of God will unite us all in Him.
"With this discovery of my feelings, my dear brother, and
hoping that you will now be at rest in the matters which have
hitherto troubled you, I bid you adieu. — * * *."
The following is a letter from the same to an ecclesiastic.
" TO GOD BE ALL THE GLORY.
" Eeverend Father, — I will endeavour to explain to you
the sentiments of my heart in as few words as possible. That
I suffer I do not deny ; but it is a satisfaction to say, that I
bear the cross willingly. I would rather die than be unwilling
to bear it. Nothing could express my sorrow and wretchedness,
if I should find in myself an impatient disposition. I bless the
Lord that He has given me other sentiments. I feel that I am
not only resigned to God, but entirely given up to Him. Most
tenderly do I love His holy will ; and I shall not cease to love
and adore it, whatever may be His dispensations towards me.
And therefore do I esteem myself happy in being a prisoner for
the Lord's sake.
" It is true, that I hear the sighing and crying of outward
nature ; but let, it complain. That inner nature which has its
life from faith, pays no attention to it. So strong is my heart
in the Lord, that I have ceased to trouble myself about any new
cross. It seems as if I bad become inured and hardened to trial.

474 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Is there anything which I do not feel ready to suffer ? I love
the cross with a true love, because I see God in it, and it makes
me more nearly acquainted with Him.
" I am now separated from my beloved mistress, Madame
Guyon. If it be the will of God that I shall no more see her
on earth, I have no doubt that I shall see her in heaven. The
power of man does not reach there. Even in this life our sepa
ration from each other in person does not cause a separation in
Bpirit. I love her as being made one with her in Christ ; — in
Him and for Him. So closely are we united, thongh separated
in body, that, when I pray to God, she seems to be always pre
sent with me. Being one with Christ, I do not know how I
could separate from her without separating myself from the
Saviour. Our union, therefore, shall never be broken ; neither
in earth nor in heaven. It is a union of the cross upon earth,
and a union of the possession of God in eternity. It is this
hope which enlivens my soul.
" I think, Keverend Father, you would not regard me as
expressing myself too strongly in relation to my love for Madame
Guyon, if you knew what a blessing she has been to me. God
made her the instrument of revealing Himself to my heart. And
I experienced her advice and aid in all that subsequent struggle,
which was necessary in denying and subduing the life of nature,
and bringing it into subjection. Under her instructions and
prayers, the love of Christ grew so strongly within me, that it
seemed to be written and engraven, as it were, upon my heart,
in characters deep and never fading. And the more I love God,
the more closely I find myself bound to her. Who, then, shall
separate us? Neither persecutions nor prisons, neither men
nor devils, nor anything else, shall separate us from the love of
Christ ; — and what, then, shall separate us from each other ?
It is always in the sweet and lovely heart of Jesus, where my
life reposes., that I find her. 0 Saviour I I lift up my heart
and hands unto Thee, and return Thee thanks for uniting me to
one who loves Thee so tenderly and purely.
" I repeat again, that, in my imprisonment, nature suffers

OF MADAME GUYON. 475
grievously ; but yet I would not be without suffering. It is in
the utmost sincerity I assert, that I have a secret fear of being
without suffering. The cross, in the sense of suffering for
Christ, is dear to me. I have espoused it with an inconceivable
force and ardour, and would be faithful to it as long as I live.
In the consecration, which I have made to God, I have reserved
nothing. Both body and spirit are entirely His. Let him do
with me whatever He pleases. I have no desire, no purpose,
no will of my own, separate from the will of God. The con
tinual prayer of my heart is, — Thy will be done."
Such were the devout dispositions of this pious maid. If she;
had consented to say a word unfavourable to Madame Guyon,
she would undoubtedly have been set at liberty, and perhaps
rewarded. But although she was poor, and in prison, the world
had not riches enough to seduce her principles and pervert her
integrity. It was a saying of the Saviour, that the " poor have
the Gospel preached unto them." And He who is the author ;
of the Gospel, and who has all hearts in His hands, knows full '
well, whoever else may be ignorant of it, that, among the ne- >
glected and forgotten, among the poor of this world, there have ,
been, and there still are, those who are rich in faith ; — those
upon whose love, patience, and Christian integrity, angels in
heaven look down with the deepest interest. If they are the
world's servants, they are the Lord's children. Unknown among
men, their names are written in the Lamb's book of life. With
out homes on earth, they have habitations appointed for themj
in the skies.
The confinement of Madame Guyon in the Bastile, is briefly
alluded to in the Memoirs of Dangeau. He writes from Ver
sailles, " Nothing is talked of here," he says, " but the Bishop
of Meaux's last publication against the Archbishop of Cambray,
in which the whole doctrine of Madame Guyon is exposed.
This lady is in the Bastile, where Monsieur de la Eeine (chief
of the police of Paris) has already interrogated her several times
by order of the king. She is said to defend herself with great
ability and firmness."

476 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Madame Guyon had not been long in the Bastile before the
report was circulated that she was dead. The report arose under
peculiar circumstances, and passed for a time uncontradicted.
It reached the ears of Fenelon ; — and at a time when her enemies
i had not ceased to make efforts to destroy her character. He
supposed it to be true, that she had done with the things of this
, world. All the personal motives which had rendered him
anxious to sustain her, had ceased. And at that late hour, if
he had renounced her and her writings, he might have been
restored to the favour of Louis XIV. But he took the oppor
tunity to bear the most decided testimony to her virtues. And
in doing it, he added, " It would be infamous weakness in me to
speak doubtfully in relation to her character, in order to free
i myself from oppression."
The maid-servant, and not the mistress, had gone to her
reward. And so long had they laboured and suffered together,
and so closely were they associated in men's minds, that it is
not surprising that what was true of one should be attributed to
the other. Under what circumstances this pious servant died,
we know not. We can only assert with confidence, without
receiving it from human lips, that when her dying head reposed
upon the tattered couch, or upon the stony floor of her prison,
she did not repent that she gave up all for Christ.
In what way Madame Guyon sustained the long years of her
1 imprisonment in the Bastile, we have now no means of ascer
taining. Her situation then, and afterwards, was such as to
compel her to silence. Every prisoner who entered the Bastile
was obliged to take an oath, by which he bound himself to
maintain an inviolable secrecy with respect to all that he had
I seen or heard there. If, at any subsequent period of her life,
j she had made known the particulars of her suffering there,
and especially if she had made any complaint, it would only
, have resulted in her being subjected to the same sufferings
again. But it is not difficult to conjecture what she must have under
gone. It is well understood that there are few persons, however

OF MADAME GUYON. 477
vigorous they may be in body or in mind, even of those who
are supported by religion, that can sustain, for a great length
of time, the dreadful ravages of solitary confinement.
In the few memorials that have escaped the terrible silence
of the Bastile, it is affecting to notice the various resorts of suf
fering humanity to escape from its calamities. The prisoner
looks upward, but he sees no sun ; he gazes at the straggling
and dim light of his window, but it shows him no green fields
and woods ; he listens and hears, or thinks he hears, a voice ,
coming up from the streets below, which reminds him of a child '
Or brother ; but, alas 1 child and brother, and the hopes and
happiness of home are no longer his. Sad and weeping, he '
walks from side to side of his dark room ; till, finding his mind
sinking under a sorrow which it is his duty to strive against, he ;
reBorts to any sort of occupation or amusement, however unsuit-i
able it might be under other circumstances.
" The histories of the Bastile," says a writer, " are full of \
attempts to train spiders by supplying them with food, and to ¦:
avert tbe horrors of reflection by ascertaining the dimensions of
the room, or counting the studs upon the door. Some have
spent whole days in pouring water from one dish into another ;:
or in disposing, in fanciful arrangements, the pieces of which)
their fagots were composed."
If the stoutest men have Bank under these calamities, if their
heads have become grey, and their hearts been broken, we may
well suppose that it could be no other than a place of extreme
trial and sorrow to a feeble and delicate woman. Those natural
affections which bound her to her kindred and friends were
equally strong, and equally liable to be wounded. She had a
daughter and sons and many beloved friends, from whom she ,
was entirely cut off. But God was with her ; and she felt that;
all was well so long as she had the Divine favour.
In a single passage of her Autobiography, she refers to this J
subject. " I, being in the Bastile," she says, " said to thee, 0
my God ! if thou art pleased to render me a spectacle to men
and angels, thy holy will be done ! All that I ask is, that thou

'478 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
wilt be with and save those who love thee ; — so that neither life
nor death, neither principalities nor powers, may ever separate
them from the love of God which is in Jesus Christ. As for me,
what matters it what men think of me, or what they make me
suffer, since they cannot separate me from that Saviour whose
name is engraven in the very bottom of my heart ? If I can
only be accepted of Him, I am willing that all men should de
spise and hate me. Their strokes will polish what may be
defective in me, so that I may be presented in peace to Him,
for whom I die daily. Without His favour, I am wretched.
0 Saviour ! I present myself before thee an offering, a sacrifice.
Purify me in thy blood, that I may be accepted of thee."
It was a part of her principles, and of her experience, to see
all things in the light of God. Men, even wicked men, were but
the instruments of higher purposes. Men had imprisoned her ;
but they did not do it without God's permission. This faith,
although it did not prevent suffering, stopped all complaint.
And sometimes it so opened the fountains of joy, that here, as
at Vincennes, the stones of her prison looked like rubies in her
sight. Here, too, she composed songs and sung them ; but the
voice of her pious maid-servant, which mingled with hers in her
former imprisonment, was now silent. She mourned and re
joiced, she wept and sung alone.

CHAPTEE LI.
Advocates of pure love called Quletista — Traits of religious character connected with the
origin of tho name — Meekness and simplicity, which characterize the true Quietist — The.
Quietist in affliction— In action — When suffering injury — In prayer — Other religious
traits— Selections from the poems of Madame Guyon.
In the time of Madame Guyon and Fenelon, tbe advocates of
the doctrine of Pure Love were frequently called Quietists. In
tjie controversy between Bossuet and Fenelon, this name, as if

OF MADAME GUYON. 479
it implied some reproach, was almost constantly applied to them.!
It was not a name of their own seeking ; but, having been fre- '
quently applied, it became after a time a recognised designation.
It had been previously applied to Michael de Molinos and his
followers. The term, in the proper and right sense, undoubtedly indicates •
gome characteristic traits in their experience and lives. There \
is no trait which more distinctly and fully characterizes the
subjects of a truly purified and perfected love, than meekness of
spirit. And in this especially we are to look for the origin of
the name. How can those be otherwise than calm and serene,
as well as happy, who love God with all their heart, and their
neighbour as themselves? Eegarding themselves as nothing, i
and loving God above all things, they are exempt from those
personal pretensions, which are the opposite of a meek and quiet
spirit. It is impossible for them to have pure love without
assured faith ; and the same faith, which is the parent of love, i
is the parent of a childlike, humble, and acquiescent temper.
The true Quietist is a man also of simplicity of spirit. In the
language of Scripture he has that " single eye," which makes ,
the whole body full of light. Human passion, that is, unsancti-
fied passion, has lost its power over him. His mind has assumed
a unity of character, harmonious in itself and in its movement.
This is the result of its supreme love to God, which, in subor
dinating and regulating every other love, reduces all principles
of action and all motives into one. So that, instead of being
many men in one through the diversity of self, he is one man
in God through the unity of love.
The Quietist, having undergone the purifying baptism of faith
and love, is resigned and acquiescent in those circumstances and
in that place, whatever it may be, which God in His providence
has allotted him. If he is afflicted, he knows that it is good for
him to suffer ; and the tears which he sheds only give a new
beauty to the peaceful serenity which shines through them. If
be is poor, he is content to be without the earth's treasures, ac
counting himself rich in the possession of inward wealth with

480 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
j outward destitution. If, on the other hand, the Lord has made
I him rich in this world's goods, he sees distinctly that his riches
i are the gift of another ; and he is entirely content and happy
i in renouncing all claims for himself, and in being merely the
i Lord's steward. He loves to be just where the Lord would have
, him to be. So that, whether we find him in wealth or in want,
i in prison or on the throne, in the presence of his own people and
j in the peace of his own family, or in the deprivations of exile,
¦ he is always at home.
It might, perhaps, be supposed, from the name, that those who
bore it failed in being faithful labourers. But it would be a
a great error to suppose, that the man who is quiet, because his
heart has perfect rest in God, is a man who fails to fulfil his L
duty. His rest of spirit would necessarily cease, if he neglected
any action which duty imposed upon him. Nor is his action
without influence. On the contrary, if he has power with God,
as he evidently has in his private supplications, he has also
power with men in his outward intercourse. Perhaps no man
has more influence ; but still, the influence is of such a gentle
and unobtrusive kind, that, in general, it does not excite much
attention at the time of its exercise.
Some Christians, in particular emergencies, produce a great
impression on the religious community, by their efforts ; — all
eyes are turned towards them ; — they pass through the religious
and moral hemisphere like meteors in the sky ; throwing out a
degree of light and heat, but scattering also at times a desola
ting fire ; brilliant for a time, but not unfrequently soon expir
ing. But the persons of whom we are now speaking, more
nearly resemble the sun ; advancing silently and brightly in
their position ; sometimes hidden from our sight in clouds, but
never jostled from their true line of movement. Everybody
notices the meteor ; scarcely any one thinks of the sun.
¦ It is in the true Quietist that we find the spirit of forgiveness
'exhibited in a remarkable degree. He loves his enemies. Un
kind expressions are not heard upon his lips. This benevolent
< and forgiving spirit is the natural result of the holy love which

OF MADAME GUYON. 481
is " gentle and easy to be be entreated, full of mercy and good i
fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy."
Eealizing the importance of having his own feelings constantly
tried and purified, he has thus a powerful motive to receive with
kindness, and to bear with patience, the evil looks and words of
others. And here also his assured and prevailing faith enables
bim to look above the creature, and to see the wisdom of God
manifested, in constantly educing the sanctification of the Chris
tian from the transgressions of the sinner. So distinct and
powerful is this feeling, that, while he suffers in his own person,
and cannot fail to look with compassion on those who treat him
with unkindness, he is, at the] same time, truly grateful that
God so regards him as to make him suffer.
" If thou receivest an injury from any man," says Molinos,
"remember that there are two things in it, viz., the sin of him
who does it, and the suffering which is inflicted on thyself. The
sin is against the will of God, and it greatly displeases Him
though He permits it. But the suffering which thou art called
to endure, is not in opposition to His will. But, on the contrary,
He wills it for thy good. Wherefore, thou oughtest to receive
it aB from His hand." — [Spiritual Guide, chap, ix.)
The Quietist does not strive for mastery. In various situations
he seeks those things which make for peace. If he mourns over
the ordinary dissensions of life, still more does he turn away
from extreme violence and bloodshed.
The Quietist is a man of prayer. Without undervaluing that j
prayer, appropriate to times and places, he has a prayer1 which'
is with bim always. In souls in the state of pure love, the in- '
spirations and impulses of faith and of holy desire can never die.
There is in them' a fountain springing up to everlasting life.
God is in us, if we have the love and faith to admit Him there ; ,
and it is God that teaches us how to pray.
The views of Fenelon on this subject are striking. Writing
on that passage in Luke where the disciples ask the Saviour to
teach them how to pray, he utters his heart in the forrm of a
supplication. " 0 Lord ! I know not what I should ask of thee.
2h

482 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
Thou only knowest what I want ; and thou lovest me, if I am
thy friend, better than I can love myself. 0 Lord I give to me,
thy child, what is proper, whatsoever it may be. I dare not ask
either crosses or comforts : I only present myself before thee. I
open my heart to thee. Behold my wants, which I myself am
ignorant of ; but do thou behold, and do according to thy mercy.
Smite, or heal 1 Depress me, or raise me up. I adore all thy
purposes without knowing them. I am silent, I offer myself in
sacrifice. I abandon myself to thee. I have no more any de
sire but to accomplish thy will. Lord, teach me how to pray I
Dwell thou thyself in me by thy Holy Spirit I"
The Quietist cannot easily be restricted by party lines. His
'principles may more nearly agree with the principles of one party
than of another ; and among the various social, civil, and reli
gious divisions which exist, he may be more likely to act with
one party than with another. But it is impossible for him,
living as he does by the moment, to pledge himself absolutely to
a particular course of conduct in time to come.
' The writings and labours of the Quietists, few and feeble as
j those comparatively were who bore that name, would not have
i produced such a sensation in Europe, if they had not touched
: and probed some long-existing evils. In the list of modern re
formers, Fenelon certainly is entitled to a highly honourable
, place. Michael de Molinos had lived for his fellow-men. It is an
! evidence of the greatness of his labours that, when possession
was taken of his papers, there were found among them letters
from persons desiring information on religious subjects, to the
number of twenty thousand. He was tried, condemned, and
shut up in the dungeons of the Inquisition ; where, after the
' expiration of twelve years, he closed his life. It is affecting to
see with what calmness and entire faith in God he enters that
dungeon door, from which be knew there was no return. Taking
by the hand the friar who attended him, and one of his opposers,
he merely said, " Farewell ; — at the day of judgment we shall
see each other again ; and then it will appear on which side truth

OF MADAME GUYON. 483
is, whether on yours or on mine." Whether honoured or dis
honoured, whether in freedom or in prison, he could say, It is all
well. He knew in a sense, which brought the purest peace into
his heart, that the agents in his humiliation and suffering were
but the executioners of a Divine purpose, which was full of wis-:
dom and goodness.
The same sweet serenity, the same peaceful resignation, is seen
in La Combe, in Alleaume and Bureau, in Falconi, in Fenelon,
in the Countess Vespiniani, in Madame de Maisonfort, in Madame
Guyon, and in others who suffered in Spain, Italy, and France.
They were willing that the purposes of God should be accom
plished in them by suffering.
Ecclesiastical history shows how frequently the advocates of
pure or perfect love, resulting in a Divine quietness of spirit,
have made their appearance ; and how much they have suffered
under the charge of heresy. They have felt bound, with how
ever little prospect of its being accepted, to give their testimony.
They appeared in Catalonia in Spain, about the year 1352 ; and
were suppressed through the efforts chiefly of Sanci, Archbishop
of Tarragon, and Nicholas Eosetti, the Inquisitor. They again
appeared in 1623, in Andalusia ; particularly at Seville, the
capital. Andrew Pachecho, Bishop of Seville, Inquisitor-Gene
ral of Spain, employed very severe measures against them.
Many were either formally banished, or fled to distant places to
avoid the keen pursuit of the Inquisitors. Seven of the leading
persons among them were burnt at the stake. But here we see
the same triumphant faith, the same holy and universal love ;
in a word, that blessed spirit of resignation and benevolence,
which " loves its enemies, blesses them that curse us, does good
to them that hate us, and prays for them which despitefully use
us and persecute us." • This seems to me the true test of a per
fected Christianity.*
When the Waldenses passed through that fiery trial, ther
story of which forms one of the most thrilling chapters of
history, the Cry of vengeance went through Europe. Crom-,
* See Victionnaire Historique des Cultes Religiettx. Att. Illumines.

484 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
jwell pointed his tei-rible thunder. Milton wrote his sublime
sonnet. " Avenge, 0 Lord ! thy slaughtered saints, whose bones
Lie scatter' d on the Alpine mountains cold."
When the celebrated religious establishment of Port-Eoyal
: was destroyed, and its inmates were driven out and scattered
abroad never more to return, they uttered the wail of their sor
row wherever they went. The infirm old nun, ninety years of
age, the last that left those hallowed precincts, lifted her withered
hand, and exclaimed in terrific accents to Monsieur D'Argenson,
the agent of the king : — " To-day, sir, is the hour of man ; but
. be assured, that another day, the day of God's righteous retribu
tion, is not far distant." As the residents of those dear abodes
j of piety and learning cast their last looks upon ruined walls
and desolated fields, they applied the language of the Psalmist,
. "0 God! the heathen are come into thine inheritance; thy
holy temple have they defiled, and made Jerusalem a heap of
stones." Bitter and terrible were their denunciations of the
king ; — the same Louis XIV. who had so often closed the dun
geons of Vincennes and the Bastile on tho Lord's people. And
when they heard the victories of their country's enemies, tho
victories of Hochstet and Eamillies, and when they learned the
desolation in the king's family, the death of his son, and of his
son's son, and of the Duke of Brittany, the three successive
heirs of the throne, all dying suddenly and awfully, it seemed to
them, that the loud cry of their anguish and of their prayer was
answered, and they rejoiced in the vengeance which had come on
their oppressor.
And the question arises here, as it has often arisen : — Can we
' expect anything other, or anything better than this ? Is it pos
sible for human nature, even aided by Divine grace, to rise to
such a height, that it can not only smile in the midst of its own
sufferings, but ask for peace and blessing to its enemies ? How-
; ever this question may be answered, we know that such was the
spirit of Christ ; and we know also, that such ought to be, and

OF MADAME GUYON. 485
must be, the spirit of those who are fully formed into the image I
of their Master and elder Brother. J
This patient and forgiving spirit gives its Christian consist- 1
ency and beauty to the sufferings of the Quietists. The same
Louis who demolished Port-Eoyal, and banished the Huguenots,
laid his heavy hand on Fenelon ; deprived him of his offices and
honours ; exiled him from all cities and places out of the limits
of\ Cambray ; disgraced, imprisoned, and banished his friends ; ;
and exacted an ecclesiastical condemnation from the unwilling!
court of Eome. But such was the power of the religious prin- j
ciples which Fenelon had adopted, that this unkind and cruel
treatment called forth no unkind emotions.
It is not so much they who are smitten by their enemies, as
God who is smitten through them. To the world, therefore, they
make no appeal. The voice they utter is a voice unheard by
men. Their heart and their eye are steady to the eternal throne ;
and they accept no comfort, no wisdom, no strength, which has
not God for its author.
It seemed to be but justice and truth, to speak thus favourably i
of those who have borne the name of Quietists. History, which
is often written by men allied to particular sects and parties, has
covered them with reproach. No people, as it seems to us, were
ever more closely united to God ; and yet, if we were at liberty
to believe the statements of polemics and ecclesiastical annalists,.
we should reckon them among the weakest, if not the worst.
They themselves, however, ask no defender. The life they live
is " by faith on the Son of God ;" — and he who can trust his
soul with Christ, need not hesitate to trust his reputation. From
the beginning they have committed their cause to Him in whom
they have believed ; in full confidence that He would raise up :
those, in His own good time, who would do justice to their prin-i
ciples. It was the motto of Fenelon, Am a nescIri, Love to 6ej
unknown. Under the name of Quietist, no new party, no additional sect,
will or can arise. The word sect, like the word party, implies
division. Holy love seeks and tends to unity. It is a pleasing.

486 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
i and auspicious circumstance, that those who possess a truly
humble and acquiescent spirit, founded on such love, are found,
from time to time, in many sects. The principal of supreme
love, therefore, which brings every inward evil into subjection,
may exist in connexion with speculative differences ; especially
such as relate to the outward forms or ceremonials of religion.
Faith in God through the Saviour seems to be all that is neces
sary. Christ gives us strength to realize in ourselves His image.
Study His life, and see what transcendent beauty and power
are found lodged in a meek and quiet spirit. Follow Him, and
mark Him in all situations, from the weakness of the manger to
the matured and agonizing sufferings of the cross ; — and behold
the moral beauty of Him who, in all trials and sorrows, in all
temptations and oppositions, is still a conqueror. His own words
have pronounced a blessing upon that meekness which was the
great ornament of His Divine life. He has told us to learn of
Him ; — and, in assigning a reason for this direction, He has an
nounced the leading trait of His character : " Take my yoke
upon you, and learn of Me ; for I am meek and lowly in heart;
and ye shall find rest to your souls."
The following are selections from Cowper's translations of the
poems of Madame Guyon.
TRUTH AND DIVINE LOVE REJECTED BY THE WORLD.
O Lo v jj, of pure and heavenly birth I The world is proud, and cannot bear
O simple Tuurn, scarce known on earth I The scorn and calumny ye share ; —
Whom men reBiat with stubborn will ; — The praise of men, the murk tliey mean.
And, more perverse and daring still. They fly the place where ye are Been.
Smother and quench with reasonings vain, I'uuk Love, with scandal in the rear.
While error and deception roign. Suits not the vain : it costs too dear.
Whence comes it that, your power the same Then let the price be what it may,
As His on high from whom you came, Though poor, I am prepared to pay ; —
Ye rarely find a listening ear, Oomo shame, come sorrow ; spite of tears.
Or heart that makea you welcome here ? — Weakness, and heart-oppressing fears,
Because ye bring reproach and pain, One soul, at least, shall not repine
Where'er ye visit, in your train. To give you room : come, reign in mino !

OF MADAME GUYON.

487

THE TESTIMONY OF DIVINE ADOPTION.

How happy are the new-born race,
Partaken of adopting grace I
How pure the bliss they share !
Hid from the world and all its eyes,
Within their heart the blessing lies.
And conscience feels it there.
The moment we believe, 'tis ours:
And if we love with all our powers
The Qod from whom it came,
And if we serve with hearts sincere,
'Tis still discernible and clear,
An undisputed claim.
But ah ! if foul atid toilful sin
Stain and dishonour us within,
Farewell the joy we knew;
Again the slaves of Nature's sway,
In lab'rinths of our own we stray,
Without a guide or clue.
The chaste and pure, who fear to grieve
The gracious Spirit they receive,
His work distinctly trace;

And Btrong in undlssembling love,
Boldly assert, and clearly prove,
Their hearts His dwelling-place,
0 messenger of dear delight !
Whose voice diBpels the deepest night,
Sweet, peace -proclaiming Dove !
With thee at hand to soothe our pains,
No wish unsatisfied remains,
No task hut that of love.
"Tis love unites what sin divides :
The centre where all bliss resides
To which the soul once brought,
Reclining on the first great Cause,
From His abounding sweetness draws
Peace, passing human thought.
Sorrow foregoes its nature there,
And life assumes a tranquil air,
Divested of its woes ;
There, sovereign goodness soothes the breast,
Till then, incapable of rest,
In sacred sure repose.

CHAPTEE LII.

On the religion of prisons — Madame Guyon released in 1702, after four years' imprisonment
— Banished during her life to Blois — State of health — Visited by many persons, foreigners
as well as others — Publication of her Autobiography— Feelings towards ber enemies — Ex
tract from Thauler — Religious state — Letters near the close— Her character — Address to
her spiritual children — Sickness and death.
When piety, under the name of heresy, becomes a crime, the ,
prayers and tears of the dungeon are as acceptable to God as [
those that arise within the walls of a church. In the course of
the year 1686, a few years before the imprisonment of Madame
Guyon, one hundred and forty-seven persons, almost all of them
Huguenot Protestants, against whom nothing could be brought
except their religion, were sent to the Bastile alone. In the •
year 1689, the number chiefly of members of the same religious
sect, was sixty-one ; persons who shewed the sincerity of their]

488 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
i faith by their sufferings, and who esteemed their liberty less than
their religion. A full history of the Bastile would illustrate the
virtues and sufferings of the Jansenists, as well as of the Hu
guenots.
! Madame Guyon was in the Bastile four years, from 1698 to
1702. At the time of her liberation, she was fifty-four years of
age. She was allowed, after her release, to visit her daughter,
the Countess of Vaux, who resided either in Paris or in the im
mediate vicinity. But the associations connected with her per
sonal history and name were such, and such was the influence
she was still capable of exerting, that she was permitted to
remain there] only for a short time. Her afflictions, without
ceasing to exist, assumed a new form. The sorrows of a distant
exile followed the anguish of solitary imprisonment. She was
ibanished to Blois, a considerable city, one hundred miles south-
' west from Paris, on the Loire.
The city is one of ancient date, beautiful in its location, and
of some historical celebrity ; but it is not known what particular
reasons induced the king to select it as the place of her banish
ment, in preference to any other. Her banishment was for life ;
' but it was some consolation that her eldest son, Armand Jacques
Guyon, was settled with his family either within the limits of
the city, or at a place not far distant.
From this time to her death, in 1717, her life ceased to be
1 diversified with incidents which it would be important or inter
esting to lay before the reader. The extreme deprivations and
trials of the Bastile had effectually broken a constitution but
feeble before. Few could have withstood, even so well as she
did, those solitary hours, in which day and night were hardly
distinguished from each other, those damp walls, the colds of
winter and the impure beats of summer. Her age, therefore,
combined with her ill health, prevented her from engaging in
those works of outward benevolence which had illustrated the
earlier part of her life.
In a passage which she wrote during this period, she says : —
" My life is consecrated to God, to suffer for Him, as well as to

OF MADAME GUYON. 489
enjoy Him. I came out of my place of confinement in the Bas
tile ; but, in leaving my prison, I did not leave the cross. My
afflicted spirit began to breathe and recover itself a little after
the termination of my residence there ; but my body was from
that time sick and borne down with all sorts of infirmities. I
have bad almost continual maladies, which have often brought
me to the very verge of death."
The long period of her banishment was thus added to the long
period of her imprisonment, during which she was called to glo
rify God by submission and by private prayer, rather than by
active labours. She did not, however, cease to be useful. She
glorified God by her patience under sufferings, and by her more
private efforts in conversing with others, and by her written
correspondence. Numbers of religious people, some from foreign countries, and |
among others some persons of high rank from Germany and '
England, came to see her. They had heard of her labours and
sufferings ; and came either to receive the benefit of her conver
sation and instructions, or to pay the homage of sincere respect'
to her character. It was through the instrumentality of some
one of these persons, whose name is not now known, that her
Autobiography was first published.
Such had been the dispensations of providence in relation to
her, that she at last felt it her duty to consent to its publication ;
— with one condition only, that it should not be published until
after her death. Having re-examined and corrected it, she
placed it, near the close of her life, in the hands of an English
gentleman of rank ; — one of those who visited her from religious
motives at Blois, and in whom she had entire confidence.
Great numbers of persons came to see her. Eeligion-was
the great subject of her discourse. Forgetful of herself, she
regulated her remarks exclusively by a regard to the spi
ritual state and the wants of those who thus had interviews
with her. It would not be easy to estimate the good she was
capable of doing, and which she was actually the means of doing,
in this way.

490 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
There is some reason to suppose that she was closely watched
during her banishment ; and it is probable that some came with
no other purpose than that of ensnaring her in her words. To
this she refers : — " I am not afraid of the snares which any of
those who come to see me endeavour to lay for me. Conscious
of my own innocence and uprightness, I do not feel at liberty to
take those precautions which a merely worldly wisdom might
suggest. I leave all with God. 0 worldly prudence ! How
opposite do I find thee to the single heart and the simplicity of
Jesus Christ 1 I leave thee to thy partisans. As for me, all
my prudence, all my wisdom, consists in following Christ in
His simple and lowly appearance and conduct. If a change in
my conduct, and a resort to worldly artifice, would make me an
empress, I could not do it. Or if, on the other hand, that sim
plicity of conduct which follows God and trusts in God alone
were to cause me all the heaviest sufferings, I could not depart
from it."
In another passage of her work, which bears the date of De
cember 1709, she says, " I entreat all such persons as shall read
this narrative, not to indulge in hard or embittered feelings
against those who have treated me with unkindness."
Near the close of her Autobiography, she writes, " In these
last times, if I may so express myself, I can hardly speak at all
of my inward dispositions. The reason is, that my state has
become fixed; — simple in the motives which govern it, calm in
its reliance on God, and without any variation. So far as self
is concerned, it may be described as a profound annihilation. I
see nothing in myself, nothing, of the natural operation of tho
mind distinct from the grace of God, to which I can give a
name. All that I know is, that God is infinitely holy, righteous,
and happy ; that all goodness is in Him ; and that, as to my
self, I am a mere nothing.
" To me every condition seems equal. As God is infinitely
wise and happy, all my wisdom and happiness are in Him.
Everything which, in the state of nature, I should have called
my own, is now lost in the divine immensity, like a drop of

OF MADAME GUYON. 491
water in the sea. In this divine immensity the soul sees itself
no more as a separate object : but it discerns every object in
God ; without discerning or knowing them as such intellectually,
but by faith and by the affectionate feelings of the heart. God
is not only in the soul itself, constituting its true life, but is in
everything else. Viewed in relation to the creature, everything
is dark ; — viewed in relation to God, everything is light ; — and
God will always enlighten and guide those who are truly His,
so far as is proper and of real advantage. My soul is in such a
state, that God permits me to say, that there is no dissatisfied
clamour in it, no corroding sorrow, no distracting uncertainty,
no pleasure of earth, and no pain which faith does not convert
into pleasure ; nothing but the peace of God which passes un
derstanding, perfect peace. And nothing is of myself, but all
of God.
" If any persons think there is any good in me, separate from
God, they are mistaken ; and, by indulging in any such thoughts,
they do injury to the Lord whom I love. All good is in Him,
wad for Him. The greatest satisfaction I can have is the know
ledge, that He is what He is; and that, being what He is, He
never will or can be otherwise. If I am saved at last, it will be
the free gift of God ; since I have no worth and no merit of my
own. And in the deep sense that I am nothing of myself, I am
often astonished that any persons should place confidence in me.
I have often made this remark. Nevertheless, in this, as in
other things, I have, and can have, no will of my own. I must
do what the Lord would have me do. Although poverty and
nakedness belong to me in myself, yet God helps me to answer
and instruct those who come to me, without difficulty. Appro
priate words, such as the occasion requires, seem to be given me
by that divine Agent who rules in my heart. As I seek nothing
for myself, God gives me all that is necessary, apparently with
out seeking or studying for it.
" I feel much for the good of souls. It seems to me that I
should be willing, in my own person, to endure the greatest
sufferings, if it might be the means of bringing souls to the

492 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
knowledge and love of God. Whatever wounds the Church
of God, wounds me. Deeply do I desire her prosperity. He
whom my soul loves keeps me by His grace, in great simplicity
and sincerity of spirit. I have but one motive, — that of God's
glory. And in this state of mind, I possess what may be called
a freedom or enlargedness of spirit, which elevates me above
particular interests and particular things ; so that, in themselves
considered, and separate from the will of God, such particular
things, whatever they may be, and whether prosperous or adr
verse, have no effect upon me, but my mind entirely triumphs
over them."
Among the last letters which she wrote, was the following to
her brother, Gregory de la Mothe ; an humble and pious man,
connected with the Order of the Carthusians. " Blois,  1717.
" My dear Brother, — The letter which you had the kind
ness to send me was received in due time. In the few words
which I am able to return in answer, permit me to say : — sepa
ration from outward things, the crucifixion of the world in its
external relations and attractions, and retirement within your
self, are things exceedingly important in their time. They con
stitute a preparatory work ; but they are not the whole work.
It is necessary to go a step further. The time has come when
you are not only to retire within yourself, but to retire from
yourself; — when you are not only to crucify the outward world,
but to crucify the inward world ; to separate yourself absolutely
and wholly from everything which is not God. Believe me, my
dear brother, you will never find rest anywhere else.
" The time of my departure is at hand. For a considerable
time past, I have had it on my mind to write and tell you so.
If you can come and see me, before that last hour arrives, I shall
receive you with joy. When I am taken from you, be not sur
prised, and let not your heart be troubled. Whatever may
happen, turn not your eye back upon the world. Look forward
and onward to the heavenly mansions ; — be strong in faith ; —

OF MADAME GUYON. 493
fight courageously the battles of the Lord. — I remain, in love,
your sister, Jeanne M. B. de la Mothe Guyon."
The following letter, to one of her religious friends, was writ
ten probably only a few weeks before her death : —
" Blots,  1717.
" To  . I can only say at present, my dear friend, that
my physical sufferings are very severe, and almost without inter
mission. It is impossible for me, without a miraculous interpo
sition, to continue long in this world under them. I solicit
your prayers to God, that I maybe kept faithful to Him in these
last hours of my trials.
" Last night, in particular, my pains were so great as to call
into exercise all the resources and aids of faith. God heard the
prayer of His poor sufferer. Grace was triumphant. It is try
ing to nature ; but I can still say in this last struggle, that I
love the hand that smites me.
" I remember that, when I was quite young, only nineteen
years of age, I composed a little song, in which I expressed my
willingness to suffer for God. My heavenly Father was pleased,
for wise purposes, to call me early to this kind of trial. A part
of the verses to which I refer is as follows : —
" By sufferings only can we know I welcome, then, with heart sincere,
The nature of the life we live ; The cross my Saviour bids me take :
The trial of our souls, they show. No load, no trial is severe,
How true, how pure, the love we give. That's borne or suffered for His sake :
To leave my love in doubt would be And thus my sorrows shall proclaim
No less disgrace than misery. A love that's worthy of tho name.
" Eepeating my request for an interest in your supplications,
I remain, — Yours, in our Saviour.
" Jeanne M. B. de la Mothe Guyon."
The following appears to have been written to an ecclesi
astic : — "Btow,.  1717.
" Dear and Eeverend Brother in Christ,— -I have had a
great desire that your life might be spared. Earnestly have I

494 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
asked it of the Lord, if it were His will, because it seemed to
me to have a connexion with the progress of His work in the
world. In respect to my own situation, all I can say is, that
my life seems to me to hang on a slender thread. I make no
account of its continuance ; although I know well that God can
raise me up in a moment, if He has anything further for one who
accounts herself as nothing to do here in the world. If my work
is done, I think I can say, I am ready to go. In the language
of the proverb, I have already ' one foot in the stirrup,' and am
willing to mount and be gone, as soon as my heavenly Father
pleases. " I take the liberty to send through you my affectionate salu
tations to our friend B. and his family ; and, in behalf of all our
common friends, it is my earnest prayer that God would be all
things to them. Let us all say with one accord, Adveniat
regnum tuum ; Thy kingdom come. Sometimes this kingdom,
in consequence of the prevalence of wickedness among men, has
the appearance of being at a distance. But the darkness of the
times does not extinguish the light of faith. In His own good
time, God will put a stop to the torrent of iniquity. Out of the
general corruption, He will draw a chosen people, whom He will
consecrate to Himself. 0 that His will might always be done I
This is all we can desire.
" I will close with only adding, that it is impossible for me to
express the regard and love which our friends in this place have
for you. — Yours, in our common Lord,
" Jeanne Marie B. de la Mothe Guyon."
On the character of Madame Guyon it is hardly necessary to
add much here. Her writings indicate, in some particulars, a
defect of education ; but they illustrate the greatness of her
intellectual power. Without such power it would not have been
possible for her to have exerted the personal influence which so
remarkably attended her. Whatever company she might be in,
such was her quickness of perception and her natural flow of
language, that her mind could hardly fail to take an ascendant

OF MADAME GUYON. 495
position. There seemed to be a natural disposition, on the part'
of those who listened to her conversation, to yield to that mental :
superiority which God had given her. The power which cha
racterized her conversation was not less obvious in her writings.
Though written, for the most part, under the most disadvantage
ous circumstances, they are full of thought ; and of such thought
and such relations of thought as are sure to excite both thought'
and feeling in others.
Her powers of imagination, as well as her powers of percep
tion and reasoning, were very great. They gave, as it seems to
me, a somewhat peculiar character to her conceptions and her
modes of expression ; so much so that it is often necessary to
compare one passage with another, and sometimes to modify the
expressions, in order to reach the true meaning.
But if her intellect was of the highest order, it is true never
theless, it was her rich and overflowing heart, renovated and
sanctified by the grace of God, which gave the crowning beauty
to her character. Her religion was the religion of God. It was
nothing of man's devising ; no patchwork of human ingenuity,
inscribed over with hints and recognitions of man's merits. It '
is difficult to read her life and writings, without a distinct feel
ing that her soul was the temple of the Holy Ghost. Those
who were with her during her life, those who saw her and con
versed with her, felt it to be so. And this was the great secret,
whatever may have been, her natural powers, of the remarkable
religious influence which attended her. God was with her.
As the light of holiness arises upon the world, and as the
names of those whose lives have been practical illustrations of a
pure and perfected love, become more and more dear to the
church, it can hardly be supposed that the name of Madame
Guyon will be overlooked or forgotten. Forgetful of herself, she
bad no purpose, no desire, of being remembered.
In the closing part of her Biography, we find some parting'
counsels and encouragements to those then living, whom she
had been instrumental in bringing to the knowledge of Jesus
Christ :—

496 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
, " Nothing is greater than God ; nothing is less than myself.
God is rich ; I am poor. And yet, being rich in God, I want
nothing. To me life and death are the same ; because I desire
nothing but what God desires. God is Love. All good is in
Him ; all good is for Him.
" My children in the gospel I Many things have been said in
relation to myself. I will not deceive or mislead you. It be
longs to God to enlighten you, and to give you either esteem or
disesteem for myself. The particular labours of my past life,
what I have said and what I have written, have, in a considerable
degree, passed away from my recollection. Giving myself to the
present moment, and the duty which now is, I remember but
little or nothing in relation to them. I leave them all with God.
Separate from God, I want neither justification nor esteem. I
| want only to keep my place, and to go no more out from that
place and that duty which God assigns ; and thus to remain
established in the great and Divine Centre. I want nothing,
therefore, but God and His glory. Let Him, therefore, glorify
Himself, just as He sees best, either by establishing my reputa
tion among men, or by destroying it. In His will they are the
same to me ; bearing equal weight in the balance.
" My dear children 1 Christ is the truth. And if I have
spoken truth to you, it is because I have spoken what Christ has
spoken. I pray God to enlighten you always, to give you by
His illuminating influences the clears discernment of His holy
will, that no false light may ever lead you to the precipice. Holy
Father, sanctify them through thy truth.
" Christ said, in reference to His disciples : — For their sakes
I sanctify myself, that they also may be sanctified through the
truth. 0 blessed Saviour! say the J same thing in behalf of
these, thy little ones. Sanctify thyself, by being a holy life in
their spirits, in them and for them. Teach them, that they
also are sanctified, when they have all things from thee, and
nothing from themselves ; when, in the possession of nothing
they can call their own, they have that holiness which thou
alone canst give.

OF MADAME GUYON. 497
," My children 1 Let Christ alone be all in all, in and for ns ;
in order that the work of sanctification, resting upon the basis
of Divine truth, may be carried on and perfected in our souls.
To Christ belongs all wisdom, all strength, all greatness, all
power and glory. To ourselves, considered as separate from
Christ, belongs nothing but poverty, emptiness, weakness, and
misery. Let us, then, while we recognise and abide in our no
thingness, pay homage to the power and the holiness of Christ.
In this way we shall find all that we want. If, in the spirit of
self-reliance, we seek anything out of Christ, then we are not
His true followers. The truth abideth not in us. We deceive
ourselves ; and in that state shall never become the true saints
of God.
" Holy Father ! I now commit these children into thy hands. .
Hear the prayer of thine handmaid. Keep them in thy truth,
that the lie may not come near them. To assume any merit out
of thee, to attribute any merit to one's-self, is to be in the lie.
Make them know this to be the great truth, of which thou art
jealous. All language which deviates from this principle is
falsehood. He who speaks only of the all of God, and nothing
of the creature, is in the truth ; and the truth dwelleth in
him ; usurpation and selfishness being banished from his heart.
My children, receive this from one who has been to you as a
mother ; and it will procure you life. Eeceive it through her, .
but not as for her; but asoF and for Gon. Amen.

" Glory be to the Lord Jesus Christ." ,"j3 ¦ *'¦
In the beginning of the month of March 1717, she had a very
severe attack of sickness, from which she never recovered. Dur
ing her sickness she conversed with her friends, and wrote a few-
letters ; but she had no doubt that her labours were drawing to
a close. God's hour, that hour to which she had long looked
with interest, had arrived. Already those with whom, either as
friends or as enemies, she had been associated in the earlier part
of her life, Harlai, La Combe, Fenelon, Beauvilliers, Bossuet,
the powerful monarch of France, all had been called hence. At.
2 i

498 LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE OF MADAME GUYON.
last the summons came to her also. She received it without
surprise, and without repugnance. She went down to the grave,
as her life would lead us to anticipate, in perfect resignation and
peace. She had given her soul to God. No clouds rested upon
her vision ; — no doubts perplexed the fulness of her hope and
joy. At half-past eleven o'clock on the night of the 9th of June
1717, she died ; aged sixty- nine years.
A short time before her death she wrote a Will ; — from which
the following passage is an extract. It is an affecting evidence
of the depth of her piety, and that she relied on Jesus Christ
aTone : —
" In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."
" This is my last will and testament, which I request my exe
cutors, who are named within, to see executed.
" It is to thee, 0 Lord God, that I owe all things ; and it is
to thee, that I now surrender up all that I am. Do with me,
O my God, whatsoever thou pleasest. To thee, in an act of
irrevocable donation, I give up both my body and my soul, to
be disposed of according to thy will. Thou seest my nakedness
and misery without Thee. Thou knowest that there is nothing
in heaven, or in earth, that I desire but Thee alone. Within
thy hands, 0 God, I leave my soul, not relying for my salvation
on any good that is in me, but solely on thy mercies, and the
merits and sufferings of my Lord JesifA, Christ."
Her remains were interred in the Church of the Cordeliers, at
Blois, where a monument was erected to her memory with a
beautiful Latin inscription upon it. Such a departure, preceded
i by such a life as we have described, might be culled a transition
rather than death. She went home.
" Rest, gentle spirit, rcat !
Thy conflicts o'er ; thy labours done ;
Angels thy friends ; thy home
The presence of the Holy One."

NOTE.
The following Catalogue of the published works of Madame
Guyon, with some explanatory remarks, is found in the French
edition of her Autobiography.
1. — La Sainte Bible, ou I'Ancien et le Nouveau Testament,
avec des explications et reflexions qui regardent la vie interieure.
20 torn. Paris, 1790.
2. — Discours Chretiens et Spirituels sur divers sujets qui
regardent la vie interieure, tires la plupart de l'Ecriture Sainte.
2 torn. Ibid.
3. — Les Opuscules Spirituels, contenant le moyen court et
tres-facile de faire oraison. Les Torrens Spirituels, &c. 2 torn.
Ibid. 4. — Justifications de; la Doctrine de Madame de la Mothe
Guyon, pleinement eclaircie, demontree, et autorisee par les St.
Peres Grecs, Latins, et Auteurs canonises ou approuves ; ecrites
par elle-mSme. Avec un examen de la neuvieme et dixi^me
Conferences de Cassien sur l'etat fixe de 1 'oraison continuelle ;
par M. de Fenelon, Archevfique de Cambray. 3 torn. Ibid.
Cet ouvrage contient le parall^le et Paecord parfait de la
Doctrine de Madame Guyon avec celle des St. Peres ; et on y
trouve une infinite de citations des plus grand Saints, qui eclair-
cissent toutes les difficultes qui regardent la vie interieure.
5. — Poesies et Cantiques Spirituels, sur divers sujets qui re
gardent la vie interieure, ou I'Esprit du vrai Christianisme. 4
torn. Ibid.

500 note.
i 6. — L'Ame Amante de son Dieu, representees dans les Em-
blemes de Hermannus Hugo sur ses pieux desirs, dans ceux
d'Othon Vaenius sur l'amour Divin, avec des fig. nouvelles,
accompagnees de vers qui en font l'application aux dispositions
les plus essentielles de la vie interieure. 1 torn. Ibid.
7. — Sa Vie ecrite par elle-meme, qui contient toutes les ex
periences de la Vie interieure, depuis ses commencemens jusqu'a,
la plus haute consommation. 3 torn. Ibid.
8. — Lettres Chre'tiennes et Spirituelles sur divers sujets qui re
gardent la Vie interieure, on I'Esprit du vrai Christianisme.
Nouvelle edit, augmentee et enrichie d'un cinquieme volume,
contenant la correspondance secrette de l'Auteur avec M. de
Fenelon, etc., laquelle n'avait jamais paru, et precedee d'lnec-
dotes tres-interessantes. In-douze, 5 torn. Londres, 176b.
Un grand nombre de ces lettres ont ete addressees an Comte
de Metternich, au Marquis de Fenelon, et a nombre de Dames
de la premiere qnalite.

lilUKUL'BGH : T. CONSTAULB, PHINTER TO HUB MAJBSTT.

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