CHAPTER 20

A lady of rank, whom I sometimes visited, took a particular liking to

me, because (as she was pleased to say) my person and manners were

agreeable. She said that she observed in me something extraordinary and

uncommon. I believe it was the inward attraction of my soul that

appeared on my very countenance. One day a gentleman of fashion said to

my husband's aunt, "I saw the lady your niece; and it is very evident

that she lives in the presence of God." I was surprised at this, as I

little thought such an one as he could know what it was to have God

thus present. This lady of rank began to be touched with the sense of

God. Wanting once to take me to the play, I refused to go; (I never

went to plays) making use of the pretext of my husband's continual

indispositions. She pressed me exceedingly, and said, "I should not be

prevented by his sickness from taking some amusement and I was not of

an age to be confined with the sick like a nurse." I told her my

reasons. She then perceived that it was more from a principle of piety,

than the indispositions of my husband. Insisting to know my sentiment

of plays, I told her, I entirely disapproved of them, and especially

for a Christian woman. And as she was far more advanced in years than I

was, what I then said made such an impression on her mind, she never

went again.

Once with her and another lady, who was fond of talking and who had

read "the fathers," they spoke much of God. This lady spoke learnedly

of Him. I said scarcely anything, being inwardly drawn to silence, and

troubled at this conversation about God. My acquaintance came next day

to see me. The Lord had so touched her heart, she could hold out no

longer. I attributed this to something the other lady had said, but she

said to me, "Your silence had something in it which penetrated to the

bottom of my soul. I could not relish what the other said." We spoke to

one another with open hearts.

It was then that God left indelible impressions of His 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 become wholly

His, He deprived her of a most affectionate husband. He visited her

with such severe crosses, and at the same time poured His grace so

abundantly into her heart, that He soon became the sole master thereof.

After the death of her husband, and the loss of most of her fortune,

she went to reside four leagues from our house, on a small estate,

which was left. She obtained my husband's consent to my going to spend

a week with her, to console her. God gave her by my means all she

wanted. She had a great share of understanding, but was surprised at my

expressing things to her so far above my natural capacity. I should

have been surprised at it myself. It was God who gave me the gift for

her sake, diffusing a flood of grace into her soul, without regarding

the unworthiness of the channel of which He was pleased to make use.

Since that time her soul has been the temple of the Holy Ghost, and our

hearts have been indissolubly united.

My husband and I 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 had all

liked to have perished in a river. The rest of the company in desperate

fright threw themselves out of the coach, which sunk in the moving

sand. I continued so much inwardly occupied, that I did not once think

of the danger. God delivered me from it without my thought of avoiding

it. I was quite content to be drowned, had He permitted it. It may be

said, "I was rash." I believe I was so; yet I rather chose to perish,

trusting in God, than make my escape in a dependence on myself. What

say I? We do not perish, but for want of trusting Him. My pleasure is

to be indebted to Him for everything. This renders me content in my

miseries, which I would rather endure all my life long, in a state of

resignation to Him, than put an end to them, in a dependence on myself.

However, I would not advise others to act thus, unless they were in the

same disposition which I was in.

As my husband's maladies daily increased, he resolved to go to St.

Reine. He appeared very desirous of having none but me with him, and

told me one day, "If they never spoke to me against you, I should be

more easy, and you more happy." In this journey I committed many faults

of self-love and self-seeking. I was become like a poor traveler that

had lost his way in the night and could find no way, path, or track. My

husband, in his return from St. Reine, passed by St. Edm. Having now no

children but my first-born son, who was often at the gates of death, he

wished exceedingly for heirs, and prayed for them earnestly. God

granted his desire, and gave me a second son. As I was several weeks

without any one daring to speak to me, on account of my great weakness,

it was a time of retreat and of silence. I tried to indemnify myself

for the loss of time I had sustained in the others, to pray to Thee, O

my God, and to continue alone with Thee. I may say that God took a new

possession of me, and left me not. It was a time of continual joy

without interruption. As I had experienced many inward difficulties and

weaknesses it was a new life. It seemed as if I was already in the

fruition of beatitude. How dear did this happy time cost me, since it

was only a preparative to a total privation of comfort for several

years, without any support, or hope of return! It began with the death

of Mrs. Granger, who had been my only consolation under God. Before my

return from St. Reine I heard she was dead.

When I received this news, I confess it was the most afflicting stroke

I had ever felt. I thought that had I been with her at her death I

might have spoken to her and received her last instructions. God has so

ordered it that I was deprived of her assistance in almost all my

losses, in order to render the strokes more painful. Some months indeed

before her death, it was shown to me, that though I could not see her

but with difficulty, and suffering for it, yet she was still some

support to me. The Lord let me know that it would be profitable for me

to be deprived of her. But at the time she died I did not think so. It

was in that trying season when my paths were all blocked up, she was

taken from me. She who might have guided me in my lonesome and

difficult road, bounded as it were with precipices, and entangled with

briars and thorns.

Adorable conduct of my God! there must be no guide for the person whom

Thou art leading into the regions of darkness and death, no conductor

for the man whom thou art determined to destroy, (that is, to cause to

die totally to himself). After having saved me with much mercy, after

having led me by the hand in rugged paths, it seems Thou wast bent on

my destruction. May it not be said that Thou dost not save but to

destroy, nor go to seek the lost sheep, but to cause it to be yet more

lost; that Thou art pleased in building what is demolished, and in

demolishing what is built. Thou wouldst overturn the temple built by

human endeavors, with so much care and industry, in order as it were

miraculously to erect a divine structure, a house not built with hands,

eternal in the Heavens. Secrets of the incomprehensible wisdom of God,

unknown to any besides Himself! Man, sprung up only of a few days,

wants to penetrate, and to set bounds to it. Who is it that hath known

the mind of the Lord, or who hath been His counselor? Is it a wisdom

only to be known through death to everything, and through the entire

loss of all self?

My brother now openly showed his hatred for me. He married at Orleans

and my husband had the complaisance to go to his marriage. He was in a

poor state of health, the roads bad, and so covered over with snow,

that we had like to have been overturned twelve or fifteen times. Yet

far from appearing obliged by his politeness, my brother quarreled with

him more than ever, and without reason. I was the butt of both their

resentments. While I was at Orleans, meeting with one whom at that time

I thought highly of, I was too forward and free in speaking to him of

spiritual things, thinking I was doing well, but had a remorse for it

afterwards. How often we mistake nature for grace! One must be dead to

self, when such fowardness comes from God only.

My brother treated me with the utmost contempt. Yet, my mind was so

fully drawn inward, that although we had much more danger on the road

than when going, I had no thought about myself, but all about my

husband. Seeing the coach overturning, I said, "Fear not, it is on my

side that it falls; it will not hurt you." I believe, had all perished,

I should not have been moved. My peace was so profound that nothing

could shake it. If these times continued, we should be too strong. They

now began to come but seldom and were followed with long and wearisome

privations. Since that time my brother has changed for the better, and

has turned on the side of God, but he has never turned to me. It has

been by particular permission of God, and the conduct of His providence

over my soul, that has caused him and other religious persons, who have

persecuted me, to think they were rendering glory to God, and doing

acts of justice therein. Indeed, it is just that all creatures should

be treacherous to me, and declare against me, who have too many times

been treacherous to God, and sided with His enemy.

After this there was a very perplexing affair. To me it caused great

crosses, and seemed designed for nothing else. A certain person

conceived so much malice against my husband, that he was determined to

ruin him if possible. He found no other way to attempt it, but by

entering into a private engagement with my brother. He obtained a power

to demand, in the name of the king's brother, two hundred thousand

livres, which he pretended that my brother and I owed him. My brother

signed the processes, upon an assurance given him that he should not

pay anything. I think his youth engaged him in what he did not

understand. This affair so chagrined my husband, that I have reason to

believe it shortened his days. He was so angry with me (although I was

innocent), that he could not speak to me except in a fury. He would

give me no light into the affair, and I did not know in what it

consisted. In the height of his rage, he said he would not meddle with

it, but give me my portion, and let me live as I could. On the other

side, my brother would not move in it, nor suffer anything to be done.

The day of the trial, after prayer, I felt myself strongly pressed to

go to the judges. I was wonderfully assisted even so as to discover and

unravel all the turns and artifices of this affair, without knowing how

I could have been able to do it. The first judge was so surprised to

see the affair so different from what he had thought it before, that he

himself exhorted me to go to the other judges, and especially to the

intendant, who was just then going to court. He was quite misinformed

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 right. Had I

not done this, he assured me the cause had been lost. As they saw the

falsehood of every point, they would have condemned the plaintiff to

pay the costs, if he had not been so great a prince, who lent his name

to the scheme. To save the honor of the prince they ordered us to pay

him fifty crowns. Hereby the two hundred thousand livres were reduced

to only one hundred and fifty. My husband was exceedingly pleased at

what I had done. My brother appeared as outrageous against me, as if I

had caused him some great loss. Thus moderately and at once ended an

affair, which had at first appeared so very weighty and alarming.

The Autobiography of Madame Guyon · 第 20 / 31 章