BRIEF ACCOUNT OF MADAME GUION,

AND OF

THE MYSTIC WRITERS.

THE mystic writers, though the object of so much public attention in France, towards the close of the seventeenth century, have never attracted much notice in this country, and are known rather as a matter of historical fact than of personal interest. It is to Cowper that we are indebted for the translation of the Hymns of Madame Guion, the founder, or rather reviver, of the Mystics; for it is evident from ecclesiastical history that they existed so early as in the third and fourth centuries, and that the habits of profound contemplation and retirement from the world, in which they indulged, led to the monastic seclusion of which St. Anthony was the most eminent example. Dionysius the Areopagite

is, however, generally considered to be the founder of this sect in the fourth century. Macarius and Hilarion are also included among its supporters. The celebrated Thomas à Kempis, in the fifteenth century, adopted a kind of purified mysticism. Molino, a Spanish priest, though resident at Rome, still further extended these views; till at length Madame Guion, in the reign of Louis XIV. embodied them in their present form, which is known in France under the name of Quietism, from the calm repose and indifference to external objects which is characteristic of these principles.

The Mystics professed to elevate the soul above all sensible and terrestrial objects, and to unite it to the Deity in an ineffable manner; to inculcate a pure and absolutely disinterested love of God, for his own sake, and on account of his adorable perfections; to maintain a close and intimate communion with him by mortifying all the senses, by a profound submission to his will, even under the consciousness of perdition, and by an internal sanctity of heart, strengthened by a holy and sublime contemplation. We shall shortly examine this system, and inquire how far this indifference to salvation, from a supposed conformity to the will of God, is founded either on reason or Scripture; and whether the pure love of God, independent of his love to us, and of our personal interest in the blessings of redemption, is a state of mind to be generally attained.

But we shall first advert to the manner in which Madame Guion was led to embrace these views, and illustrate them by a reference to her own writings. After endeavouring, by unceasing efforts, and many acts of external piety, to raise her mind to a high tone of religious perfection, without being able to attain it, she meets with an ecclesiastic of the order of St. Francis, and requests him to explain the cause of this failure. His reply, and the remarkable consequences by which it was followed, is thus recorded by herself in the narrative of her own life. "It is, madam, because you seek WITHOUT what you have WITHIN. Accustom yourself to seek God in your heart, and you will there find him."

"Having said these words, he left me. They were to me like the stroke of a dart, which penetrated through my heart. I felt at this instant a very deep wound, a wound so delightful that I desired not to be cured. These words brought into my heart what I had been seeking so many years; or rather, they discovered to me what was there, and which I had not enjoyed for want of knowing it. Oh my Lord! thou wast in my heart, and demandedst only a simple turning of my mind inward, to make me perceive thy presence. Oh infinite Goodness! How was I running hither and thither to seek thee; my life was a burden to me, though my happiness was in myself. 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! Why have I known thee so late! Alas! I sought thee where thou wast not, and did not seek thee where thou wast. 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. For behold the kingdom of God is within you.' This I experienced; for thou becamest my king, and my heart thy kingdom, wherein thou didst reign supreme, and perform all thy sacred will."

Hours, she observes, now passed away like moments, and she could hardly do any thing else bu⭑ pray. She enters at the same time upon a strict course of penances, deprives herself of the most innocent indulgences, and succeeds so far that she could scarcely prefer one thing to another. Her senses are severely mortified, and kept under uniform restraint. She aims at nothing less than the death of the senses, and the utter extinction of self. "It is only by a total death to self," she remarks, "that we can be lost in God."

At length these continual efforts become painful to her, and she is far from realizing either inward peace or the grace of true holiness. In describing her state of mind, she observes ;

"I began to experience an insupportable weight, in that very piety which had formerly been so easy and delightful to me; not that I did not love it