HARDLY had I arrived at Paris when it was easy for me to discover, by the conduct of the persons, the evil designs they had against Father La Combe and against me. Father La Mothe, who directed all the tragedy, dissimulated as much as he could, and in his usual manner, giving secret blows and making semblance of flattering whilst he was dealing the most dangerous strokes. Through self-interest they desired to make me go to Montargis, hoping thereby to seize upon the wardship of my children, and to dispose of my person and my property. All the persecutions which have befallen me from the side of Father La Mothe and of my family have been solely due to selfish motives. Those which have been directed against Father La Combe have been only due to the fact that he did not oblige me to do what they wished of me, and also to jealousy. I might give many particulars on this head which would convince everybody, but to avoid tediousness I suppress them. I will only say that they threatened to deprive me of the fief that I had reserved for myself by my deed of settlement. As I never betrayed the sentiments of my heart, I replied that I would not litigate, but if they wished to take away the little I had reserved for myself, though so trifling in comparison with what I had given up, that I would yield it cheerfully; being delighted to be not only poor, but in the extremity of want, in imitation of our Lord Jesus Christ.
After our Lord had made Father La Combe suffer much in our union, in order to purify it thoroughly, it became so perfect as to be henceforth an entire unity; and this in such a way that I can no longer distinguish him from God. I cannot in detail describe the graces God has given me, for everything passes in me in a manner so pure that one can tell nothing of it. As nothing falls under the senses, nor can be expressed, it must all remain in him, who himself communicates himself in himself; as well as an infinity of circumstances, which I must leave in God with the rest of the crosses.
What formerly caused my sufferings with Father La Combe is that he had not then a knowledge of the total nakedness of the soul lost in God, and that having always conducted souls in gifts, extraordinary graces of visions, revelations, interior speech, and not yet knowing the difference that there is between these mediate communications and the immediate communication of the Word in the soul, which, having no distinction, has also no expression, he could not understand a state of which I was unable to tell him almost anything. The second thing that had been the cause of his troubles was the communication in silence, to which he had difficulty in adapting himself, desiring to see it by the eyes of reason. But when all obstacles had been removed, O God, you have made of him one same thing with you and one same thing with me in a consummation of perfect unity. All that which is known, understood, distinguished, and explained are mediate communications, but for the immediate communication—communication of eternity rather than of time, communication of the Word—it has nothing that can be expressed, and one can only say of it what St. John has said of it: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was in God, and God was in the Word.” The Word is in that soul, and that soul is in God by the Word and in the Word. It is very important early to accustom one’s self to get beyond everything that is distinct and perceived, and mediate speech, to allow room for the speaking of the Word, which is none other than a silence ineffable and yet eloquent.
I had arrived at Paris the Eve of St. Magdalen, 1686; exactly five years after my departure thence. Shortly after his arrival Father La Combe was very much run after and applauded for his sermons. I perceived, indeed, some little jealousy on the part of Father La Mothe, but I did not think that things would go to such a length. Doubtless it will be a matter of surprise that the greater part of the Bernabites of Paris and the neighbouring Houses should join against Father La Combe. There were two causes for it. First, the selfish motives and the jealousy of Father La Mothe, which made him invent all sorts of artifices. He told them all that in ruining Father La Combe they would have a pretext for shaking off the yoke of the Savoyards; for it should be known that every six years the Bernabites had a Savoyard as Provincial. This, he said, was an insult to the French nation. They all fell in with it, and for this purpose betrayed their brother, without, however, obtaining what they desired, except for a few years; for, as a fact, they have at present a Sa voyard as Provincial. The second reason was the special jealousy of their Provincial, who, owing to a Lent service taken away from one of his friends and given to Father La Combe, became his enemy, though previously his friend. That united the interests of the Provincial and of Father La Mothe.
This latter pushed artifice so far as to say that Father La Combe had accompanied me from Turin to Paris without entering their Houses, and that he remained in the inn with me to the great scandal of their Order. He did not tell them that there was no convent of their Order on the route; but, on the contrary, he made it to be understood that there were, and that it was to the shame of these Houses that he had not been there. Who would not have believed a calumny told with such art? This began to stir up everyone against me; but the excellent sermons of Father La Combe and his success in the conduct of souls, counterbalanced these calumnies.
I had deposited a small sum with Father La Combe (his superiors permitting), which I destined for the dowry of a girl professing as a nun. I thought I was bound in conscience, for owing to me she had left the New Catholics. She is the young woman of whom I have spoken, that the priest of Gex tried to gain over. As she is beautiful, although extremely discreet, there is always ground for fear when one is exposed without any fixed settlement. I had then assigned this moderate sum for that worthy girl. Father La Mothe desired to have it, and made Father La Combe understand that if he did not cause me to give it for a wall that he wished to rebuild in his convent, they would get him into trouble. But Father La Combe, always upright, said that he could not conscientiously advise me to do anything else than what he knew I had resolved to do in favour of the girl. All this, joined to jealousy at the success of Father La Combe’s sermons, made him determine to unite with the Provincial, and to betray Father La Combe to satisfy the grudge of each.
They no longer thought except of the means to arrive at their end, and to do it successfully they sent to confession to Father La Combe a man and a woman who were united in practising all sorts of villainy with impunity, and persecuting God’s servants. I believe there never were such artifices as theirs. The man writes all kinds of hands, and is ready to execute anything one desires. They pretended devotion, and amongst so great a number of worthy souls who came from all parts to Father La Combe for confession, he never discerned those devilish spirits, God so permitting it, because he had given power to the Devil to treat him like Job.
Previous to this, when I was alone in my room on my knees before an image of the Child Jesus, where I usually prayed, suddenly I was, as it were, cast back from this image, and sent to the Crucifix: all that I had of the state of childhood was taken away from me, and I found myself bound anew with Jesus Christ Crucified. To tell what this bond is would be very difficult for me, for it is not a devotion, as is commonly supposed. It is no longer a state of suffering by conformity with Jesus Christ; but it is the same Jesus Christ borne very purely and nakedly in his states. What passed in this new union of love to that Divine Object he alone knows; but I understood it was no longer a question for me of bearing him, the Child, or in his states of nakedness: that I must bear him Crucified; and it was the last of all his states. For in the commencement I had indeed borne crosses, as may be seen in the narrative of my life, which is quite full of them; but they were my own crosses, borne through conformity with Jesus Christ. Then, my state becoming more profound, it was given me to bear the states of Jesus Christ, which I have borne in the middle of my life in nakedness and crosses. And whilst one bears in this manner the states of Jesus Christ one does not think on Jesus Christ—he is then removed; and even from the commencement of the path of faith one has him no longer thus objectively. But the state I am now speaking of is quite different; it is of a vastness almost infinite, and few souls bear him in this way. It is to bear Jesus Christ himself in his states. Only experience can make intelligible what I wish to say. At this time these words were impressed upon me: “He has been numbered among the malefactors;” and it was put into my mind that I must bear Jesus Christ in this state in all its extent. O God, if there has not been enough of insult and ignominy complete, finish me by the last punishment! All that comes from you will be sweet to me. Your arm is raised. I await the blows from moment to moment. “Let him who has commenced, finish; and let me have this consolation, that in torturing me cruelly he does not spare me.” I am fit only to suffer, and to suffer insults; it is the contract of our sacred marriage—it is my dowry, O my Love! You have been liberal of it in the case of your servant.
At this period I received a letter from Father La Combe, who wrote me in these terms: “The weather is very lowering” (speaking of Father La Mothe’s humour towards him). “I do not know when the thunderbolts will fall, but all will be welcome from the hand of God.” Meantime the husband of this wicked creature who counterfeited the saint ceased coming to confession to Father La Combe, in order the better to play his game. He sent his wife, who said she was very sorry for her husband having left this Father; that her husband was a fickle man; that she did not resemble him. She counterfeited the saint, saying that God revealed to her future events, and that he was about to have great persecutions. It was not difficult for her to know this, since she plotted them with Father La Mothe, the Provincial, and her husband.
During this time I went to the country to the Duchess of C—. Many extraordinary things happened to me, and God gave me great graces for my neighbour: it seemed as if he desired to dispose me thereby for the cross. Many persons of those whom our Lord caused me to spiritually help, and who were my spiritual children, were there. I was given a strong instinct of communicating myself to them in silence, and as they were not prepared for this and it was a thing unknown to them, I knew not how to tell them. In this I was wanting in fidelity to God through natural timidity. A passage of Scripture was read, and explained in a manner quite different from the understanding of it that was given to me, and this caused in me such a contrariety (because, owing to the presence of certain persons, whose constraint I felt, I dared not speak) that they had to unlace me. In the afternoon I had an opportunity of speaking to Father G— and two other persons, and this was a relief to me. I have, besides, at different times had other plenitudes, which made me suffer much, and oftentimes I discharged them upon my best disposed children, though they were absent, and I felt that there was an outflow from me into their souls; and afterwards, when they wrote to me, they mentioned that at such a time much grace had been communicated to them. Our Lord had also given me a certain spirit of truth, which I called the spirit of the Word, which “causes one to reject the evil and to choose the good.” When, in a sermon or discourse, any things about devotion, or pious thoughts, or probable opinions on any matter, or sentiments as to the Holy Virgin or the Saints, were advanced, I felt in me a something which rejected at once what was merely human opinion, and accepted the pure truth: this was without attention or reflection.
Father La Combe wrote to me while I was in the country that he had found an admirable soul (meaning that woman who counterfeited the saint), and mentioned certain circumstances which made me apprehensive for him. However, as our Lord gave me nothing special on the subject—and, besides, I feared that if I told him my thoughts it would be ill taken, as at other times; and as our Lord did not urge me to say anything (for if he had required it of me, at any cost I would have done it), I wrote to him that I abandoned him to God for that as for the rest.
While this woman was counterfeiting the saint, and exhibiting great affection and esteem for Father La Combe, her husband, who imitated all kinds of writing, was induced (evidently by the enemies of Father La Combe, as the sequel has shown) to write defamatory libels, to which they attached the propositions of Molinos, which for two years were circulating in France, and said these were the sentiments of Father La Combe. They had them carried everywhere amongst the Communities, and Father La Mothe and the Provincial, who was more tricky, caused these libels to be sent back to themselves; then assuming the role of persons much attached to the Church, they themselves carried these libels to the Official, who was in their plot, and brought them to the notice of the Archbishop. They said that zeal urged them, and that they were in despair that one of their monks should be heretic and execrable. They also slightly mixed me up in the matter, saying that Father La Combe was always at my house. This was utterly false, for I could hardly see him, except at the confessional, and then only for a moment. They renewed their old calumnies about the journeys, and went from house to house among honourable families, saying that I had been on horseback behind Father La Combe—I, who was never so in my life!—that he had not been to their Houses along the road, but that he remained at the inn.
Previous to this I had had many mysterious dreams, which told me all this. They bethought them of one matter which favoured their enterprise. They knew that I had been to Marseilles; they thought they had discovered a good foundation for a calumny. They forged a letter from a person of Marseilles (I even believe I heard it said, from the Bishop of Marseilles), addressed to the Archbishop of Paris, or to his Official, in which they stated that at Marseilles I had slept in the same room with Father La Combe; that there he had eaten meat in Lent and behaved very scandalously. This letter was carried, this calumny was retailed everywhere, and after having circulated it, Father La Mothe and the Provincial, who had concocted it together, resolved to tell it to me. Father La Mothe came to see me, apparently to make me fall into the trap and to make me say in the presence of people he had brought with him, that I had been to Marseilles with Father La Combe. He said to me, “There are horrible stories against you sent by the Bishop of Marseilles, that you have there committed frightful scandals with Father La Combe; there are good witnesses of it.” I began to smile, and said to him, “The calumny is well imagined, but it ought to have been first ascertained if Father La Combe had been to Marseilles, for I do not believe that he has ever been there in his life; and when I passed through it was Lent. I was with such and such persons and Father La Combe was preaching the Lent sermons at Verceil.” He was dumbfounded, and withdrew, saying, “There are, however, witnesses that it is true;” and he went immediately to ask Father La Combe if he had not been at Marseilles. He assured him he had never been in Provence, nor further than Lyons and the road from Savoy to France; so that they were somewhat taken aback. But they devised another expedient. Those who could not know that Father La Combe had never been to Marseilles, they left in the belief that it was Marseilles, and to the others they said that it was Seissel in the letter. This Seissel is a place where I have never been, and where there is no bishop.
Father La Mothe and the Provincial carried from house to house the libels and those propositions of Molinos, saying they were the errors of Father La Combe. All this did not prevent Father La Combe from making a wonderful harvest by his sermons and at the confessional. From all sides people came to him. It was gall to them.
The Provincial had just held his Visitation, and had passed quite close to Savoy without going there; because he did not wish, he said, to hold the Visitation that year. They plotted together, Father La Mothe and he, to go there in order to collect some reports against Father La Combe and against me, and to gratify the Bishop of Geneva, whom they knew to be very bitter against me and against Father La Combe, for the reasons I have mentioned. The Provincial set out, then, immediately on his return from the Visitation of Provence, to go into Savoy, and gave orders to Father La Mothe to do everything he could to ruin Father La Combe.
They plotted with the Official, a man skilful and clever in this sort of affair; but as it would have been very difficult to mix me up in the business, they instigated that woman to ask to see me. She told Father La Combe that God made known to her admirable things of me, that she had an inconceivable love for me, and wished very much to see me. As besides she said she was very much in want, Father La Combe sent her to me to give her something in charity. I gave her a half louis-d’or. At first she did not strike me in her true character; but after half an hour’s conversation with her, I had a horror of her. I hid it from myself, for the reasons I have mentioned. Some days from that—three days after, I think—she came to ask me for the means of getting herself bled. I told her that I had a maid very skilful at bleeding, and if she wished I would have her bled. She indignantly refused, and said she was not a person to allow herself to be bled by anyone but a surgeon. I gave her fifteen sous. She took them with a scorn which made me see she was not what Father La Combe believed her. She immediately went and threw the fifteen-sous piece before Father La Combe, asking if she were a person to be given fifteen sous. The Father was surprised; but as in the evening she had learned from her husband that it was not time for breaking out, but for feigning, she went to see Father La Combe, asked his pardon, and said it was a strong temptation that had made her act so, and that she asked back the fifteen sous-piece. He told me nothing of all this, but several nights I suffered strangely owing to this woman. In sleep sometimes I saw the Devil, then suddenly I saw this woman; sometimes it was the one, sometimes it was the other. This made me wake with a start. For three nights I was thus, with a certainty that she was a wicked woman who counterfeited devotion to deceive and to injure. I told it to Father La Combe, and he reprimanded me very severely, saying it was my imagination, that I was wanting in charity, that this woman was a saint. I therefore kept quiet. I was very much astonished when a virtuous girl, whom I did not know, came to see me, and told me that she felt bound to warn me, knowing that I was interested in Father La Combe, that he confessed a woman who was deceiving him; that she knew her thoroughly, and she was, perhaps, the most wicked and the most dangerous woman in Paris. She related to me strange things this woman had done and thefts committed at Paris. I told her to declare it to Father La Combe. She said that she had told him something of it; but that he made her acknowledge it as a fault in confession, on the ground that she was uncharitable, so that she no longer knew what to do. That woman was overheard in a shop speaking evil of Father La Combe. It was told to him, but he would not believe it. She sometimes came to my house. I, who am without natural antipathy, had such a violent one, and even such horror for this creature, that the force I put upon myself to see her, in obedience to Father La Combe, made me turn so extraordinarily pale, that my servants perceived it. Among others, a very worthy girl—she who made me suffer so much for her purification—felt for her the same horror that I felt. Father La Combe was again warned that there was one of his penitents who went about decrying him to all the confessors, and saying execrable things of him. He wrote them to me, and told me at the same time that I should not imagine it was this woman; that it was not she. I was perfectly certain it was the same. Another time she came to my house; the Father was there. She told him something of the intimations she had that he was about to have great crosses. I had an immediate conviction that it was she who was causing them. I told it to Father La Combe; but he would not believe me, our Lord so permitting it, to render him like to himself. One thing which seemed extraordinary, is that Father La Combe, so soft and so credulous to any other who did not tell him the truth, was not at all so for me. He himself was astonished at it, yet I am not astonished, because in God’s conducting of me my nearest are those who crucify me the most.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MADAME GUYON 