MADAME GUYON.

HERE is not a more interesting period in the history of France than that which is called e Augustan Age." The Frenchmen of to-day know of the France of that day. There was then no Rivoli, no Magdalen Church, no Place de la Cone-the Garden of Plants, the Tuileries, the Louvre, Invalides, the Panthéon, the Boulevards, were all nished. The Huguenots had been subdued, and helieu had been all powerful. Then came, in answer the prayer of his mother, Anne of Austria, the birth Louis XIV., that king who was to say, "I am the te" who should sit in the place of God, even, and ke laws for the conscience! Wonderful it all seems w! The one man, the grand monarch, absorbing in mself an entire nation; the most licentious, priestden, and yet most magnificent monarch. Singular at, at that most debased period, when humanity might ell be said to mourn, there were men living who lit up me age with god-created genius, who sent forth scintilla

tions of light and thought which were caught up by men of succeeding periods, and which will bless the world while the world continues to exist. But, even more singular still, while that age could enumerate amongst its possessions Molière, La Fontaine, Racine, Corneille, Massillon, Bossuet, Bourdaloue, Bridane, Fénélon, Arnaud, and Pascal, it had, in a simple, unassuming girl, one whose piety would become distinguished as a mark of eminence amidst the Churches, whose zeal and devotion should not only form a striking contrast then, but whose life and character form a strong contrast now to the lives of too many who had and have taken upon themselves the name of "Christian."

Jeanne Marie Bouvières de la Mothe was born on the 13th of April, 1648. Her childhood was marked by sickness, and also by imitations of the nuns with whom she frequently came in contact. As other children are fond of dressing and playing with dolls, she was fond of dressing herself in the habit of a nun. She had heard of martyrs, and longed also, in her childishness, to die for her religion. Her companions, to humour her singular notions, placed her on her knees on a white cloth, flourished a sabre over her head, as if intending to strike it off. The little girl's courage failed her, subjected to this trial, when her schoolfellows received her with boisterous laughter. Her undisciplined thoughts and knowledge were mainly owing to the want of affection in her mother, who almost entirely committed her to the care of servants; and, when suffered to be in her com

she was treated coarsely and unkindly. She was from her earliest years, inured to pain and sorrow. result of this was that, as she grew up, she maniI considerable irritableness of disposition; and, fear of punishment and chiding, so terrible to her ate nature, she prevaricated and became insincere. n ten years old, however, she accidentally found a , which, she afterwards said, "I spent whole days. ading, giving no attention to other books or other ects from morning to night; and, having great ers of recollection, I committed to memory the rical parts entirely." Other books fell in her way had not so happy an influence. The life of Madame Chantal excited her unhealthily to numberless humilins and austerities. As this woman had written on bosom, with a red-hot iron, the name of Jesus, the e girl of twelve must needs endeavour to imitate her, sewing on her breast, with a large needle, a piece of er, upon which was written the name of Christ! But se early impressions soon gave place to more worldly :S. As she grew up she contracted a passion for light es and romances, which she frequently sat far into the ht to read. These excitable tales left an impression ich she lamented her life long. They dissipated >erness of judgment, and prepared her for a life of volity, upon which she immediately entered, when she s taken to Paris in 1663. Here, by her beautiful per, sparkling wit, great readiness and power of conrsation, and agreeableness of manner, she made a

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considerable impression, and, as a matter of course, forgot her vows, her prayers, and her resolutions.

When she was scarcely sixteen years of age, a dark chapter of her life opened. At. that time it was settled that she should marry the wealthy M. Guyon, who was twenty-two years her senior, and whom she had only seen three days before her marriage! That marriage was in every sense an unhappy one: it certainly did not deserve to be otherwise, only that the wife deemed it no part of her duty to oppose the wishes of her friends. Doubtless M. Guyon's desire was to obtain a beautiful wife, and the desire of her friends to obtain for her a rich husband. Both, in these respects, were gratified; and, as is usual in such cases, misery resulted. The causes of her sorrows were numerous. Her mother-in-law, who was a vulgar, hard-hearted woman, penurious, sordid, and passionate, contracted from the first ill-will towards her, which she vented upon every opportune occasion, proving herself to be a person of a singularly contracted and narrow mind. Her husband, who was the fitting son of such a mother, loved his wife as strongly as his petulant nature permitted. When she was ill, he would not be comforted: and if his mother complained of her, he exploded in a fit of passion; and yet, strange to say, he constantly exercised harshness towards her at the instigation of his mother! Worse still: a designing girl, who tended M. Guyon's gouty leg, was permitted to exercise her spleen by insulting his wife. Madame Guyon, in recording her experience at this period, said, "At my

's house we were obliged to behave in a genteel and to speak with propriety; there all that I said -pplauded; here, they never hearkened to me but to adict and find fault; if I spoke well, they said it to give them a lesson. If any questions were started y father's, he encouraged me to speak freely on such sions; here, if I spoke my sentiments, they said it to enter into a dispute. They put me to silence in brupt and shameful manner, and scolded me from ning to night." Speaking of her mother-in-law, lame Guyon said, "All her occupation was to thwart continually, and she inspired her son with the same iments. They would make persons far my inferiors place above me. My mother, who had a high sense _onour, could not endure that, and when she heard of om others (for I told her nothing of it), she chid me, aking I did it, not knowing how to keep my rank, and t I had no spirit, and upbraided me with many other ngs of that sort. I durst not tell her how it was with , but I was almost ready to die with the agonies of ef and continual vexation !" Fitting mode this to eak the spirit and destroy the vivacity of the young e. To her honour, however, be it recorded, that in s trial of her young life she comported herself, if not ry bravely, yet with cheerful forbearance and duty. e endeavoured, by compliance with every requirement, obtain a change in the treatment towards herself; but e natures she had to deal with were too base and groelling to be won by any such overtures. Turning from