CHAPTER 28

I was obliged 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,

whom I did not know, nor have ever seen since. I made a simple and

short confession; but to the confessor himself I said not a word. He

surprised me saying, "I know not who you are whether maid, wife or

widow; but I feel a strong inward motion to exhort 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 may have to leave one's children to do that." This surprised me

much. However, I told him nothing of what I felt about Geneva. I

disposed myself submissively to quit everything, if the Lord required

it of me. I did not look upon it as a good I aspired to, or a virtue I

hoped to acquire, or as anything extraordinary, or as an act that would

merit some return on God's part; but only gave myself up to be led in

the way of my duty, whatever it might be, feeling no distinction

between my own will and the will of God in me.

In this disposition, I lived with my family in the greatest

tranquility, until one of my friends had a great desire to go on a

mission to Siam. He lived twenty leagues from my house. As he was ready

to make a vow to this purpose, he found himself stopped, with an

impulse to come and speak to me. He came immediately, and as he had

some reluctance to declare his mind to me, he went to read prayers in

my chapel, hoping God would be satisfied with his making the vow. As he

was performing divine service in my hearing, he was stopped again. He

left the chapel to come and speak to me. He then told me his intention.

Though I had no thought of saying anything positive to him, I felt an

impression in my soul to relate to him my case, and the idea I had for

a long time past for Geneva. I told him a dream I had, which appeared

to me supernatural. When I had done, I felt a strong impulse to say to

him, "You must go to Siam, and you must also serve me in this affair.

It is for that end God has sent you hither; I desire you to give me

your advice." After three days, having considered the matter, and

consulted the Lord in it, he told me that he believed I was to go

thither; but to be the better assured of it, it would be needful to see

the Bishop of Geneva. If he approved of my design, it would be a sign

that it was from the Lord; if not, I must drop it. I agreed with his

sentiment. He then offered to go to Annecy, to speak to the Bishop, and

to bring me a faithful account. As he was advanced in years, we were

deliberating in what way he could take so long a journey, when there

came two travelers, who told us the Bishop was at Paris. This I looked

on as an extraordinary providence. He advised me to write to Father La

Combe, and recommend the affair to his prayers, as he was in that

country. He then spoke to the Bishop at Paris. I, having occasion to go

thither, spoke to him also.

I told him, that "my design was to go into the country, to employ there

my substance, to erect an establishment for all such as should be

willing truly to serve God, and to give themselves unto him without

reserve; and that many of the servants of the Lord had encouraged me

thereto." The bishop approved of the design. He said, "there were New

Catholics going to establish themselves at Gex, near Geneva, and that

it was a providential thing." I answered him, "that I had no vocation

for Gex, but for Geneva." He said, "I might go from hence to that

city."

I thought this was a way which divine Providence had opened, for my

taking this journey with the less difficulty. As I yet knew nothing

positive of what the Lord would acquire at my hand, I was not willing

to oppose anything. "Who knows," said I, "but the will of the Lord is

only that I should contribute to this establishment?"

I went to see the prioress of the New Catholics at Paris. She seemed

much rejoiced, and assured me she would gladly join me. As she is a

great servant of God, this confirmed me. When I could reflect a little,

which was but seldom, I thought God would make choice of her for her

virtue, and me for my worldly substance. When I inadvertently looked at

myself, I could not think God would make use of me; but when I saw the

things in God, then I perceived that the more I was nothing, the fitter

I was for His designs. As I saw nothing in myself extraordinary, and

looked on myself as being in the lowest stage of perfection, and

imagined that an extraordinary degree of inspiration was necessary for

extraordinary designs, this made me hesitate, and fear deception. It

was not that I was in fear of anything, as to my perfection and

salvation which I had referred to God; but I was afraid of not doing

His will by being too ardent and hasty in doing it. I went to consult

Father Claude Martin. At that time he gave me no decisive answer,

demanding time to pray about it; saying he would write to me what

should appear to him to be the will of God concerning me.

I found it hard to get to speak to M. Bertot, both on account of his

being difficult of access, and of my knowing how he condemned things

extraordinary, or out of the common road. Being my director, I

submitted, against my own views or judgment, to what he said, laying

down all my own experiences when duty required me to believe and obey.

I thought, however, than in an affair of this importance, I ought to

address myself to him, and prefer his sense of the matter to that of

every one beside. Persuaded, he would infallibly tell me the will of

God. I went to him then, and he told me that my design was of God, and

that he had had a sense given him of God for some time past, that he

required something of me. I therefore returned home to set everything

in order. I loved my children much, having great satisfaction in being

with them, but resigned all to God to follow His will.

On my return from Paris, I left myself in the hands of God, resolved

not to take any step, either to make the thing succeed or to hinder it,

either to advance or retard it, but singly to move as He should be

pleased to direct me. I had mysterious dreams, which portended nothing

but crosses, persecutions and afflictions. My heart submitted to

whatever it should please God to ordain. I had one which was very

significant.

Being employed in some necessary work, I saw near me a little animal

which appeared to be dead. This animal I took to be the envy of some

persons, which seemed to have been dead for some time. I took it up,

and as I saw it strove hard to bite me, and that it magnified to the

eye, I cast it away. I found thereupon that it filled my fingers with

sharp-pointed prickles like needles. I came to one of my acquaintance

to get him to take them out; but he pushed them deeper in, and left me

so, till a charitable priest of great merit, (whose countenance is

still present with me, though I have not yet seen him, but believe I

shall before I die) took this animal up with a pair of pincers. As soon

as he held it fast, those sharp prickles fell off, of themselves. I

found that I easily entered into a place, which before had seemed

inaccessible. And although the mire was up to my girdle, in my way to a

deserted church, I went over it without getting any dirt. It will be

easy to see in the sequel what this signified.

Doubtless you will wonder that I, who makes so little account of things

extraordinary, relate dreams. I do it for two reasons; first out of

fidelity, having promised to omit nothing of what should come to my

mind; secondly, because it is the method God makes use of to

communicate Himself to faithful souls, to give them foretokens of

things to come, which concern them. Thus mysterious dreams are found in

many places of the holy Scriptures. They have singular properties, as--

1. To leave a certainty that they are mysterious, and will have their

effect in their season.

2. To be hardly ever effaced out of the memory, though one forgets all

others.

3. To redouble the certainty of their truth every time one thinks of

them.

4. They generally leave a certain unction, a divine sense or savor at

one's waking.

I received letters from sundry religious persons, some of whom lived

far from me, and from one another, relating to my going forth in the

service of God, and some of them to Geneva in particular, in such a

manner as surprised me. One of them intimated that I must there bear

the cross and be persecuted; and another of them that I should be eyes

to the blind, feet to the lame, and arms to the maimed.

The ecclesiastic, or chaplain, of our house was much afraid lest I was

under a delusion. What at that time greatly confirmed me was Father

Claude Martin, whom I mentioned above, wrote to me that, after many

prayers, the Lord had given him to know that He required me at Geneva,

and to make a free sacrifice of everything to Him. I answered him,

"that perhaps the Lord required of me nothing more than a sum of money

to assist in founding an institution which was going to be established

there." He replied, that the Lord had made him know that He wanted not

my worldly substance but myself. At the very same time with this letter

I received one from Father La Combe, who wrote to me that the Lord had

given him a certainty, as he had done to several of his good and

faithful servants and handmaids, that he wanted me at Geneva. The

writers of these two letters lived above a hundred and fifty leagues

from each other; yet both wrote the same thing. I could not but be

somewhat surprised to receive at the same time two letters exactly

alike, from two persons living so far distant from each other.

As soon as I became fully convinced of its being the will of the Lord,

and saw nothing on earth capable of detaining me, my senses had some

pain about leaving my children. And upon reflecting thereon a doubt

seized my mind. O my Lord! Had I rested on myself, or on the creatures,

I would have revolted; "leaned on a broken reed, which would have

pierced my hand." But relying on Thee alone, what needed I to fear? I

resolved then to go, regardless of the censures of such as understand

not what it is to be a servant of the Lord, and to receive and obey His

orders. I firmly believe that He, by His Providence, would furnish the

means necessary for the education of my children. I put everything by

degrees in order, the Lord alone being my guide.

The Autobiography of Madame Guyon · 第 28 / 31 章