ecstasy she wrote mostly in the night, and so sensibly did she fancy that she felt the presence of God, that she "both begun and left off writing as he pleased to order it; writing when he gave the inward light and strength, and stopping when he withheld it." She further adds, "I wrote with great rapidity, light being diffused. within me in such a manner that I found that I had in myself latent powers of perception and knowledge of which I had but little previous conception." We may smile at all this, as the babblings of an enthusiastic woman, whose fevered fancy had dethroned her understanding: but whoever does this, must now beware; for in so doing he includes the author of the "Interior Life" in the same condemnation. In remarking upon this subject he says:-" She seems in this to have been an illustration and proof of the Scriptural declaration, that those who do the will of God shall know of the doctrine whether it is true. God taught her just as far as she A more pernicious enthusiasm, than that here broadly indorsed by Professor Upham, never cursed poor erring man; for it substitutes the vapors of an over-heated brain for the plain common sense of the Bible, and is sufficient in any case to change the truth of God into a lie.

"There is one passage illustrative of the operations of her mind, in the preparation of her commentaries, which it may be proper to repeat here. In writing my commentaries on the Book 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 contemplations, I had experienced this union. By a remarkable operation upon me, I seemed to comprehend very fully the greatness of his grace, the conduct of God over him, and all the circumstances of the states through which he 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 love and holy union, which I had previously experienced in connection with the Saviour, which now extended itself to the king of Israel, his antitype, [antetype?] 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 state of union."

Whether disembodied spirits ever hold intercourse with those that are in bodies has been doubted by some good orthodox Christians; but here we have it set down as a matter of fact, tested by experience. But what follows makes a yet larger draft upon our faith, or rather gullibility.

"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. Afterward 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."

This is theopneusty with a witness. The long-mooted question of literal inspiration may now be given up. After recording the foregoing, the author very coolly adds:

"From the connection in which this statement is introduced, we are led to infer that she regarded the sameness of the two explications as resulting from the sameness in that inward and divine operation which alone gives the true light. The Lord guided her.”—P. 377.

Though Madame Guyon wrote Notes on the whole Bible, yet she gave especial attention to the Canticles, the visions of Ezekiel, and the Apocalypse,-portions that have baffled the skill of merely critical and exegetical commentators, but which presented no difficulties to her mind. A mystical sense was found in everything; and the whole Bible seemed to her imagination replete with doctrines which she fancied she had been taught by immediate inspiration. That she made that mistake, is not wonderful, considering the state of her mind; but how the same fancy could gain a place in the mind of any one at all acquainted with "Disordered Mental Action," we are at a loss to divine.

About this time, and for the benefit of her numerous disciples at Grenoble, Madame Guyon prepared the other work already spoken of "A Short Method of Prayer." This treatise is better arranged, and on the whole much more satisfactory, than was her first publication; but the subject and scope of thought are almost identically the same. She begins with a statement of the nature of prayer, as she understood and applied the term-not the offering up of specific petitions, but "that state of the heart in which it is united to God in faith and love." How far this notion of prayer differs from that taught by the Church of Rome, we will not delay to specify; but as is often the case, in breaking away from one extreme of error she passed to the other. Prayer is made to consist essentially in the state of the heart rather than in its exercise; instead of being an act, as it is uniformly considered in Scripture, it is here spoken of as a frame of mind,-a passive yielding of the soul to the instinctive impulses of the "religious life." This doctrine, more fully developed, afterward gave her much trouble;

and, as it gave the stamp of Quietism to her system, it caused her doctrines to be disapproved by most sober and discreet Christians.

But in consideration of the infirmity of beginners in religious exercises, she permits the use of formal prayer to such, as the lame require a crutch, which would be only a hinderance were they not lame. Upon this part her instructions are such as are given in Scripture to all; and, we may add, are worthy of the careful attention of all grades of Christians. But when she comes to consider a higher grade of spiritual life, her mystical notions appear again. It was her folly to trust to her own heart, and it is not strange that she thus became a blind leader of the blind. Believing herself to have been smitten by God with sorrows and spiritual "aridity," as a means of sanctification, she recommended like visitations to all who would advance in religious experience. She, therefore, proceeds to inculcate the duty of self-abandonment--by which is implied not only a renunciation of all dependence on one's self for any meritorious agency in procuring salvation, and the entire subjection of the will to God, but also a total unconcern for one's individual welfare, making the glory of God the single object of desire. In this connection she abundantly lards her pages with such expressions as, "the annihilation of self," "the death of self," "the extinction of the will," "the crucifixion of the life of nature," &c.--phrases which in other connections would bear a Scriptural construction, but as there used must mean a total indifference of the soul, whether salvation or damnation be its eternal doom. The soul thus self-abandoned is considered to be in a state of pure or unselfish love, which is the acme of spiritual sanctification.

In pursuance of her leading topic, the method of prayer, she proceeds to set forth what she considered as the highest form of this sacred exercise, which she styles the prayer of silence.

"The prayer of silence is one which is too deep for words. It is a state of the soul which does not speak, because it has nothing to say. It has a consciousness of having God, and in the fullness and riches of its possession it rests; it is silent, it asks nothing more."

"It has so simplified and consolidated 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. He who utters this prayer, utters all prayer."-Pp. 347, 393.

That there is much here that is really excellent, cannot be denied; but it is also very liable to be abused. Man, in his present state, needs a sensible mode of religious communication, and tangible VOL. VIII.-23

means of grace. Hence Christianity is presented to us as a formal and sacramental religion, as well as one of essential spirituality. It is dangerous, and indicative of spiritual pride, to fancy one's self to be above the need of the divinely appointed means of graceamong which formal prayer is a principal one.

The publication of the "Short Method of Prayer" produced an unusual excitement in Grenoble and its vicinity; for, through the agency of some pious persons, fifteen hundred copies were presently circulated, which were eagerly read by all orders of persons. Its religious influence, which soon began to be felt on all sides, spread dismay among the ecclesiastics, and was the signal for a combined opposition to its doctrines and its author. But her mind, in this state of her affairs, was buoyant with joyous excitement, which opposition only increased; for her spirit was of that kind that delights in tempests and whirlwinds. The gathering storm became daily more threatening, so that even her tried friends, among whom was the bishop of the diocese, advised her to depart from Grenoble. Accordingly, leaving her daughter and nurse at the convent where they had been during her stay in that city, she set out for Marseilles.

She was now more than ever before an exile and fugitive in the world; for she literally went out, not knowing whither she went. She descended along the banks of the river Isere, to its junction with the Rhone, where, embarking upon the latter river, after a variety of painful adventures, she came to Marseilles. Her reception at that ancient city was such as she had not anticipated, though she had come prepared for whatever might befall her. She says: "I arrived at Marseilles at two o'clock in the morning, and that very afternoon all was in uproar against me." She had brought with her from a pious friend at Grenoble, and a man of rank, a letter of introduction, and a copy of the "Short Method of Prayer," to a knight of Malta, resident in that city. The book was taken up by the knight's chaplain, who, glancing hastily over its pages and discovering its character, spread the alarm against the newly imported heresy. The matter was presently brought before the bishop, who, having examined the book, declared that he liked it very well; and the same judgment was given by several other learned and judicious persons. She, however, found it necessary to depart from Marseilles on account of the clamor. She, therefore, prepared to depart, though she knew not whither to go; but recollecting the kindness of the marchioness of Prunai, and her frequent invitations to visit her, she set out for Turin. Her journey thither, by the way of Nice and Genoa, was the most laborious and

painful that she ever performed; and after nearly a month spent upon it, in the midst of winter she reached Verciel in the vicinity of Turin. There she found La Combe, who was residing in that place, where he was highly esteemed. The bishop, too, received her kindly, and treated her courteously. But her physical strength began to give way under her labors, and trials, and constant mental excitement; and, soon after her arrival at Verciel, she was prostrated by a fever, during the continuance of which she experienced marked kindness from her new friends. Like D'Aranthon, this bishop desired to retain Madame Guyon in his diocese, and proposed to form for her a select religious house or congregation; but, as in the former case, she felt an "intimation" against it, and therefore declined the kind proposal. It was also presently discovered that the state of her health, to which the climate seemed to be unpropitious, forbade it. As soon as her health would permit, therefore, she began to think of removing, having determined to return to Paris. La Combe accompanied her by direction of the order of which he was a member. Her route lay by Turin and Mount Cenis. Near the former place she paused to call upon her valued friend the marchioness of Prunai, with whom she spent a brief season, and then resumed her journey. She crossed the Alps in safety and came to Chamberri, in Savoy, where she met her halfbrother, Father de La Mothe, whom she had not seen for several years. Though so nearly related to each other, they were strangers in spirit; yet their meeting was cordial, and La Mothe was not altogether unmindful of his duty to his sister. They presently proceeded to Grenoble, where was Madame Guyon's daughter, now ten years old, whom she designed to take with her to Paris. Public opinion had greatly changed in her favor during her absence, and now she was solicited to remain there to be employed in connection with one of the hospitals of the city; to which, as in other similar instances, she declined to accede. After about a week's delay she resumed her journey, accompanied by La Combe, her daughter, and her female attendants, and reached Paris on the twenty-second day of July, 1686-five years after her departure from that city.

At this point our author very naturally closes his first volume; and here we will close this protracted article, fearing that we have already exhausted the reader's patience. Here, too, the subject properly closes; for though Madame Guyon lived many years afterward, and was engaged in many highly exciting affairs, yet in all these she acted a subordinate and comparatively unimportant part. In the second volume a new and very different set of per