centre of French refinement and licentiousness; and especially then, with Louis XIV. on the throne of Charlemagne, was it the seat of elegance, luxury, and worldly greatness. Such a place and such associations, could not be otherwise than dangerous to the religious character of Mademoiselle de la Mothe, as events amply proved them to be. Her modesty, beauty, and accomplished manners, added to the standing of her family, procured her many suitors; and, after fluttering in the gayety of the metropolis for about a year, she was married to M. Jacques Guyon, a person some twenty years her senior, and of a spirit most uncongenial to hers. His father had been an undertaker on the public works, especially the canal of Briare, and by successful adventures had amassed a fortune, and was honored by his sovereign with a patent of nobility. The arrangements for the match, on the part of the bride, were made by her father;-nor had she ever seen her future husband until a few days before their nuptials. When this is considered, and also the disparity of their ages and the diversity of their associations, it will not be thought strange that their union was not happy. But though inexperienced youth, and all the delicate sensibility that parental tenderness had induced, were thus suddenly ushered into the responsibilities of the marriage relations, yet even there a husband's smiles and confidence would have strengthened her heart and cheered her spirit among her too arduous duties, had such favors fallen to the lot of the youthful Madame Guyon. But her husband was a man of unrefined manners, avaricious and low-minded, and evidently jealous of his wife's mental superiority; which feeling he did not fail to manifest, in such ways as would readily occur to a person of a mean spirit. To heighten her infelicity she found her new home occupied by one not at all inclined to give way for the new comer. Her motherin-law, who was the prototype of all her husband's bad qualities, without any of the more amiable ones,-of which he was not wholly destitute,—was still in the vigor of womanhood, with the energy of a tigress and the spirit of a vixen. A more uncongenial situation than that in which the youthful bride of M. Guyon found herself placed cannot be readily conceived; and she seems to have been fully sensible of its infelicity.

Other events of a character well calculated to beget seriousness, and to induce her to seek the aids of religion, occurred in rapid succession soon after her marriage. Her husband's business affairs became embarrassed, which increased his unkindness and moroseness of spirit. In less than two years she became a mother, and was bereaved of her own mother and her paternal half-sister,

-the religious guide of her early youth. These afflictions bent her gentle spirit to the very earth. The world lost much of its influence over her, as she saw her earthly hopes and dependences blasted and cut off around her. In these extremities she determined to return to the Lord from whom she had wandered; which she at once began to do by humiliation, good works, and prayer. Her biographer remarks :—

"She laid aside all such reading as was incompatible with her present position, and confined her attention chiefly to the most devout works. One of these books, which, notwithstanding its Catholic origin, is much esteemed among Protestants, was the Imitation of Christ, by Thomas á Kempis-a work which is widely circulated and read among devout people of all denominations of Christians. . . . . . Some of the works of Francis de Sales, also, which she mentions as having read at an early period of her life, were consulted by her at this time, with great interest."-P. 44.

But her views of the ways of religion, derived, as they necessarily were, from the prevailing instructions of the Romish Church, or from the imperfect and harassing teachings of mystical writers like Kempis and Francis de Sales, were inadequate to the task of affording her the wisdom and consolation that she needed. She sought to be justified by works, for as yet she had not learned a more excellent way. About this time she passed a considerable season at her father's residence in the society of a devout lady, then temporarily resident there, whose life and conversation seems to have been highly profitable to her :

Among other things, this devout lady remarked in connection with what she had observed of her various exterior works of charity, that she had the virtues of an active life;' that is to say, the virtues of activity, of outward doing: but that she had not the 'truth and simplicity of the life within.' In other words, that her trust was in herself rather than in God, although she might not be fully aware of it. But Madame Guyon, in recurring to this period afterward, says significantly, 'My time had not yet come; I did not understand her.'"-P. 46.

But such was her honest earnestness, and the steadfastness of her purpose to be a Christian indeed, that she eagerly embraced everything that promised to facilitate her in the attainment of salvation. Her spiritual guides were, at best, of a doubtful tendency; though evidently some of them did not confine their notions of religion to outward observances, but conceived truly exalted views of its spirituality and power. She gives an account of an interview with one of this class, a Franciscan, who, when she had told him of her exercises and difficulties in seeking the peace of her spirit, replied,

"Your efforts have been unsuccessful, madame, because you have sought without, what you can only find within. Accustom yourself to seek God in your heart, and you will not fail to find him.” In this remark we have, though in a somewhat infelicitous form of words, a statement of the great evangelical doctrine of faith-and its infelicity was probably less felt in that case than it would be with us; for so completely were the teachings of the church engrossed with a dead formalism, that the call to Christ within could not fail of a salutary tendency. The remark proved to be a word in season. The same expression might have been made a thousand times to others, or to herself at other times, without making any marked impression; but her heart was then prepared to receive the light and the quickening power of the Holy Spirit. She thus describes her mental exercises at this interesting crisis :

They [the Franciscan's remarks] 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 what I had been seeking so many years; or rather they made me discover what was there, and which I did not enjoy for want of knowing it. . . . From that moment he [God] had given me an experience of his presence in my soul-not merely an object intellectually perceived, but as a thing really possessed of the sweetest manner. I slept not all that night because thy love, O my God! 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."-Pp. 52, 53.

....

We give her own account of these interesting transactions, as best adapted to convey a correct notion of them. It is not very difficult to trace in it the chief features of that spiritual change, of which multitudes of the most sober and discreet Christians attest the divine and soul-saving reality. Thus, after a long and painful conflict with the powers of sin and unbelief, her soul was enabled to rest in God through faith in the atonement. Her experience had probably gone beyond her speculative faith, and she had found a salvation of which her creed, as taught by the accredited depositaries of religious knowledge, gave no account.

In his observations on Madame Guyon's conversion, the biographer distinguishes between the illumination of the understanding as to religious truth, and the renewal of the heart; and claims for her both one and the other. The distinction is not unworthy of atten

tion, especially when, as is now the case, there is a strong tendency to a merely intellectual religion. Formerly these internal works of the Spirit were severally denominated "conviction" and "conversion." Whether the superiority of the new terminology will compensate for the inconvenience of a change we will not attempt to determine. Her experience bears strong marks of being the genuine work of the Holy Spirit;-it was her heart, rather than her imagination or her senses, that was affected. And though she was filled with great joy when first delivered from the power of condemnation, she soon learned to distinguish her spiritual consolations from the soul's communion with God, in which the essence of religion consists. This is probably intended in the following characteristic expression, by the author:-"The leading and decisive characteristic of her religious experience 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."

This subject is largely elaborated by our author in Madame Guyon's own dialect, and illustrated by extracts from her writings, and the "one idea" rung through all its changes. His statements seem to embody the principal element of the doctrine of faith, though expressed in an unusual style.

Madame Guyon dated her conversion from the 22d day of July, 1668; when she was twenty years old, and had been married about four years. The annual return of that day was regarded by her with great interest, and subsequent occurrences rendered it still more notable in her personal history. There is no good reason to doubt the reality of her conversion at that time, as both the accompanying exercises and the fruits attest its genuineness. The grace of God was now permanently with her a spirit of life and power; but it was surrounded by the frailties of humanity and the corruptions of the carnal mind within, and by the spirit of the world that knows not God, without. But her spiritual change was decided and strongly marked. No room remained for doubts; for the faith that had delivered her soul from condemnation, also sealed her heart with the Holy Spirit of promise, and enabled her to recognize her filial relation to her reconciled God.

The practical duties of a religious life now demanded her attention. This is often found to be the most difficult part of personal godliness, especially to one living among those with whom religious profession does not imply separation from the world and the consecration of one's self to God. She, however, considered these to be parts of her duty as a child of grace, and her actions corresponded to her convictions. She says:

"I bade farewell for ever to assemblies which I had visited, to plays and diversions, to dancing, to unprofitable walks, and to parties of pleasure. The amusements and pleasures which are 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.'

"Without going into particulars it may perhaps be sufficient to say, that from this time it became her object, in her dress, in her modes of living, in her personal habits generally, as well as in her interior dispositions, to conform to the requisition of the inward monitor, the comforter and guide of holy souls, who now began to speak in her heart." -Pp. 66, 67.

The world seldom fails to resent the affront offered to it by those who renounce its proffered goods for the sake of the gospel. This Madame Guyon fully experienced :

"When the world saw that I had quitted it,' she remarks, 'it persecuted me, and turned me into ridicule. I became the subject of its conversation, of its frivolous stories, and of its amusements. Given up to

its irreligion and pleasure, it could not bear that a woman, who was little more than twenty years of age, should thus make war against it, and overcome it.'"-P. 75.

She especially experienced the truth of our Lord's promise to his faithful disciples, that "a man's foes shall be those of his own household." Her husband was not pleased with her religious course; but he did not wholly withdraw his affections from her, nor altogether deprive her of religious privileges. But her mother-inlaw, as if incensed that her victim had found a source of enjoyment of which she could not deprive her, pursued her with every form of petty persecution, and labored with fiendish ingenuity to embitter all her pleasures-in which she was aided by other members of the family. She was, however, enabled to endure all her afflictions with patience and resignation; and in her bitterest persecutions, like her divine Master, she "opened not her mouth."

Religious experience, though essentially the same in all cases, is incidentally modified by circumstances. In the case of Madame Guyon two modifying causes are especially worthy of notice. Her own mental character was peculiar. Though her intellect was of a high order, her judgment was not clear and discriminating. Her imagination was fertile and always active; and so much did it influence her perceptions, that she seemed to dwell among unsubstantial forms. Her affectional and impulsive powers were very strong; so that her feelings, rather than her judgment, became the rule of her conduct. She saw nothing clearly, but wherein perception failed, imagination more than supplied the defect; and what was only imaginary as to its cause, became a substantial reality in