The Autobiography of Madame GuyonGuyon, Jeanne Marie Bouvier de la Motte
Religion
The Autobiography of Madame Guyon
Guyon, Jeanne Marie Bouvier de la Motte
Catholics -- France -- Biography; Guyon, Jeanne Marie Bouvier de La Motte, 1648-1717
As my father often sent for me, desiring to see me at home, I found at
one time the Queen of England there. I was near eight years of age. My
father told the Queen's confessor that if he wanted a little amusement
he might entertain himself with me. He tried me with several very
difficult questions, to which I returned such pertinent answers that he
carried me to the Queen, and said, "Your majesty must have some
diversion with this child." She also tried me and was so well pleased
with my lively answers, and my manners, that she demanded me of my
father with no small importunity. She assured him that she would take
particular care of me, designing me for maid of honor to the princess.
My father resisted. Doubtless it was God who caused this refusal, and
thereby turned off the stroke which might have probably intercepted my
salvation. Being so weak, how could I have withstood the temptations
and distractions of a court?
I went back to the Ursulines where my good sister continued her
affection. But as she was not the mistress of the boarders, and I was
obliged sometimes to go along with them, I contracted bad habits. I
became addicted to lying, peevishness and indevotion, passing whole
days without thinking on God; though He watched continually over me, as
the sequel will manifest. I did not remain long under the power of such
habits because my sister's care recovered me. I loved much to hear of
God, was not weary of church, loved to pray, had tenderness for the
poor, and a natural dislike for persons whose doctrine was judged
unsound. God has always continued to me this grace, in my greatest
infidelities.
There was at the end of the garden connected with this convent, a
little chapel dedicated to the child Jesus. To this I betook myself for
devotion and, for some time, carrying my breakfast thither every
morning, I hid it all behind this image. I was so much a child, that I
thought I made a considerable sacrifice in depriving myself of it.
Delicate in my choice of food, I wished to mortify myself, but found
self-love still too prevalent, to submit to such mortification. When
they were cleaning out this chapel, they found behind the image what I
had left there and presently guessed that it was I. They had seen me
every day going thither. I believe that God, who lets nothing pass
without a recompense, soon rewarded me with interest for this little
infantine devotion.
I continued some time with my sister, where I retained the love and
fear of God. My life was easy; I was educated agreeably with her. I
improved much while I had my health, but very often I was sick, and
seized with maladies as sudden as they were uncommon. In the evening
well; in the morning swelled and full of bluish marks, symptoms of a
fever which soon followed. At nine years, I was taken with so violent a
hemorrhage that they thought I was going to die. I was rendered
exceedingly weak.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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