Kritičeskij Analiz Buržuaznych Teorij I Praktiki Upravlenija Promyšlennymi Issledovanijami I Razrabotkami W D Hartmann W Stock M Z Šterngarca Ė M Mirskogo Full Chapter Download PDF
Kritičeskij Analiz Buržuaznych Teorij I Praktiki Upravlenija Promyšlennymi Issledovanijami I Razrabotkami W D Hartmann W Stock M Z Šterngarca Ė M Mirskogo Full Chapter Download PDF
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Mas causa en mi tal passion
Ver à Dios mi prisionero
Que muero porque no muero.
280.
Vida, cap. xl. p. 324.
281.
The biographers of the saints differ both as to the time of her
death (1308, 1299, 1393, are dates assigned), and as to the
number and nature of the miraculous formations discovered
within her heart. Ribadeneira’s account is by no means the
most extravagant. He says:—Aperto ejus corde amplo et
concavo, eidem repererunt impressa Dominicæ passionis
insignia, nempe crucifixum cum tribus clavis, lancea, spongia,
et arundine hinc, et illinic flagris, virgis, columna, corona
spinea; atque hæc insignia Dominicæ Passionis, nervis validis
durisque constabant.—Vida S. Claræ, p. 161.
282.
Vida, cap. xxix, p. 213. Speaking of the delicious anguish, she
says:—No es dolor corporal, sino espiritual, aunque no dexa
de participar el cuerpo algo, y aun harto. Es un requiebro tan
suave que passa entre el almo y Dios que suplico yo a su
bondad lo dè a gustar a quien pensare que miento.
283.
Vida, cap. xxxviii. pp. 300, 301; and xl. 328.
284.
Vida, pp. 71 and 75. In the latter passage, Theresa says
expressly:—En la mystica Teologia, que comence a dezir,
pierde de obrar el entendimiento, porque le suspende Dios,
como despues declararè mas, si supiere, y el me diere para el
lo su favor. Presumir, ni pensar de suspenderle nosotros, es lo
que digo no se haga, ni se dexe de obrar con el, porque nos
quedaremos bouos y frios, y ni haremos lo uno ni lo otro. Que
quando el Señor le suspende, y haze parar, dale de que se
espante, y en que se ocupe, y que sin discurrir entienda mas
en un credo que nosotros podemos entendir con todas
nuestras diligencias de tierra en muchos años.
285.
See Note on p. 175.
286.
Vida, cap. xvii. and Castillo Interior, Moradas Quintas, cap. i.
287.
Castillo Interior, p. 580.
288.
See second Note on p. 175.
289.
See Note on p. 176.
290.
See Note on p. 177.
291.
See Note on p. 178.
292.
See the account of the proceedings against Molinos and his
followers, in Arnold, th. III., c. xvii., and more fully in an
Appendix to the English translation of Madame Guyon’s
Autobiography.
293.
Vida, chap. xxii.:—Quando Dios quiere suspender todas las
potencias (como en los modos de oracion que quedan dichos
hemos visto) claro estâ que aunque no queramos se quita esta
presencia.... Mas que nosotros de maña y con cuydado nos
acostumbremos a no procurar con todas nuestras fuerças traer
delante siempre (y pluguiesse al Señor fuesse siempre) esta
sacratissima humanidad esto digo que no me parece bien, y
que es andar el alma en ayre, como dizen: porque parece no
trae arrimo, por mucho que la parezca anda llena de Dios.—P.
154.
294.
The words of John are:—Mais il faut remarquer que quand je
dis qu’il est à propos d’oublier les espèces et les
connaissances des objets matériels, je ne prétends nullement
parler de Jésus-Christ ni de son humanité sacrée. Quoique
l’âme n’en ait pas quelquefois la mémoire dans sa plus haute
contemplation et dans le simple regard de la divinité, parce que
Dieu élève l’esprit à cette connaissance confuse et
surnaturelle, néanmoins il ne faut jamais négliger exprès la
représentation de cette adorable humanité ni en effacer le
souvenir ou l’idée, ni en affaiblir la connaissance.—La Montée
du Mont Carmel, liv. III. chap. 1. I have used the French
translation of his works, edited by the Abbé Migne, in his
Bibliothèque Universelle du Clergé. 1845.
The chapter on images is the fourteenth of the same book.
Father Berthier (Lettres sur les Œuvres de S. Jean de la Croix)
attempts to show the difference between the mysticism of his
author and that of the false mystics. He succeeds only in
pointing out a manifest disagreement between the opinions of
John and those which he himself believes (or pretends to
believe) are those of Quietism—the accusations, in fact,
against the Quietists—the exaggerated conclusions drawn by
their enemies.
295.
See Note on p. 180.
296.
Castillo Interior. Morada vi., c. v.
297.
Ibid., capp. viii., ix., x.
298.
Vida, cap. xxvii., pp. 191, &c. Here the supernatural
illumination without means or mode, longed for by so many
mystics, is professedly realised. Molinos puts forward no claim
so dangerous as this special revelation. Theresa is confident
that this most inexplicable species of communication is beyond
the reach of any delusion, and inaccessible altogether to the
father of lies. Her language concerning the absolute passivity
of those who are its subjects, is as strong as it could be. No
Quietist could push it farther. It so happens that the saint, in his
chapter, contravenes expressly the three criteria, afterwards
laid down by Fénélon, to distinguish the true mysticism from
the false. The genuine contemplation according to him is not
purely infused, not purely gratuitous (i.e., without
correspondence on the part of the soul to the grace
vouchsafed), not miraculous. With Theresa this form of passive
contemplation is all three. So much more Quietist was the
mysticism authorised than the mysticism condemned by Rome.
See Maximes des Saints, art. xxix. What Fénélon rejects in the
following section as false, answers exactly to the position of
Theresa. Fénélon supports his more refined and sober
mysticism by the authority of preceding mystics. He finds
among them ample credentials, and indeed more than he
wants. Their extravagances he tacitly rejects. Not that, as a
good Catholic, he could venture openly to impugn their
statements, but their fantastic extremes, and choice wonders,
find a place with him rather as so much religious tradition, or
extraordinary history, than as forming any essential part of the
mysticism he himself represents and commends.
299.
Vida, cap. xxv.
300.
His exhortations here carry ascetic self-abnegation far beyond
the Quietist indifference of Fénélon or Madame Guyon. They
were satisfied—he, always, and she throughout her later life—
to seek a state of calm, to hail joy or sorrow alike, with the
trustful equanimity of perfect resignation. John is too violent—
too much enamoured of miseries, to await the will of
Providence. His ambition will command events, and make
them torments.
‘Au reste, le meilleur moyen, le plus méritoire et le plus propre
pour acquérir les vertus; le moyen, dis-je, le plus sûr pour
mortifier la joie, l’espérance, la crainte et la douleur, est de se
porter toujours aux choses non pas les plus faciles, mais les
plus difficiles; non pas les plus savoureuses, mais les plus
insipides; non pas les plus agréables, mais les plus
désagréables; non pas à celles qui consolent, mais à celles qui
causent de la peine; non pas aux plus grandes, mais aux plus
petites; non pas aux plus sublimes et aux plus précieuses,
mais aux plus basses et aux plus méprisables. Il faut enfin
désirer et rechercher ce qu’il y a de pire, et non ce qu’il y a de
meilleur, afin de se mettre, pour l’amour de Jésus Christ, dans
la privation de toutes les choses du monde, et d’entrer dans
l’esprit d’une nudité parfaite....
‘Premièrement, il faut que celui qui veut réprimer cette passion
tâche de faire les choses qui tournent à son déshonneur, et il
aura soin de se faire mépriser aussi par le prochain.
‘Secondement, il dira lui-même et fera dire aux autres les
choses qui lui attirent du mépris.’—Montée du Carmel, liv. II. ch.
xiii.
301.
Dionysius is very clearly followed into his darkness in La
Montée du Carmel, liv. II. chap. viii.; and his Hierarchies
reappear in La Nuit Obscure, liv. II. ch. xii.
302.
La Nuit Obscure, liv. II. ch. iv.; et passim.
303.
This first Night is treated of at length in the first book of the
Montée du Carmel, and in the first of the Nuit Obscure. The
supernatural sensuous enjoyments, alluded to, are described
in the Montée du Carmel, liv. II. ch. xi. They are placed in the
second Night,—the compensation not taking place
immediately; and their recipient is on no account to rely on
them, or desire their continuance (p. 444). By ‘sense,’ John
understands, not the body merely, but the least disorder of the
passions, and all those imperfections so common to beginners
which arise from an undue eagerness for religious enjoyments,
such, for example, as what he calls spiritual avarice, spiritual
luxury, spiritual gourmandise, &c.
304.
See Note on p. 195.
305.
Montée du Carmel, liv. II. ch. xxv.-xxxii.
306.
Ibid. ch. viii. and vi.
307.
Ibid. ch. xvii. and liv. III. ch. xii.
308.
What a scope for the indignant eloquence of Bossuet, had
Fénélon proclaimed as possible such a sudden equipment with
all imaginable virtues as this:—Quelques-unes de ces
connaissances et de ces touches intérieures que Dieu répand
dans l’âme l’enrichissent de telle sorte qu’une seule suffit, non-
seulement pour la délivrer tout d’un coup des imperfections
qu’elle n’avait pu vaincre durant tout le cours de sa vie, mais
aussi pour l’orner des vertus chrétiennes et des dons divins.—
Montée du Carmel, liv. II. ch. xxvi. p. 484.
309.
In the chapter just cited, John says expressly, ‘Elle ne saurait
cependant s’élever à ces connaissances et à ces touches
divines par sa co-opération,’ and describes these gifts as
coming from God, ‘subitement et sans attendre le
consentement de la volonté.’—P. 485. So again, quite as
strongly, liv. II. chap. xi. p. 445. He discountenances the attempt
to seek perfection by the ‘voies surnaturelles,’ yet his books
are an introduction to the mystical evening, and a guide
through the mystical midnight.
310.
La Nuit Obscure, liv. II. ch. ix.; especially the passage cited in
note on p. 195.
311. This night occupies the third book of the Montée du Carmel.
312.
See Note on p. 196.
313.
See second Note on p. 196.
314.
See the life of the saint in Alban Butler, Nov. 24.
315.
See the first six chapters of her Autobiography. This life was
published posthumously at Cologne, in 1720. I have used an
anonymous English translation, published at Bristol, in 1772.
316.
See Note on p. 238.
317.
Autobiography, chap. x.
318.
Autobiography, chap. xii. p. 87.
319.
See second Note on p. 238.
320.
Görres, Die Christliche Mystik, b. IV. c. i.
321.
Görres, Die Christliche Mystik, pp. 70-73.
322.
Specimens of the language may be seen in Görres, p. 152.
323.
Görres, Die Christliche Mystik, pp. 465, &c.
324.
Ibid. pp. 532, &c.
325.
See Note on p. 239.
326.
Autobiography, part I. c. xv.
327.
See Note on p. 240.
328.
Autobiography, part I. c. xxviii. p. 163.
329.
This spontaneity she likens to a fountain, as compared with a
pump; love in the heart prompts every issue of life: outward
occasions and stimulants are no longer awaited; and a glad
inward readiness gives facility in every duty, patience under
every trial. Such also is the teaching of Fénélon here—the
genuine doctrine of spiritual life. But the enemies of Quietism
were not slow to represent this ‘practising the virtues no longer
as virtues,’ as a dangerous pretence for evading the
obligations of virtue altogether.
330.
Upham, vol. I. pp. 262, 263.
331.
This Prayer of Silence became hers at an early period in her
religious career, not as the result of direct effort in pursuance of
a theory, but simply as the consequence of overpowering
emotion. She says, ‘I had a secret desire given me from that
time to be wholly devoted to the disposal of my God, let it be
what it would. I said, ‘What couldst Thou demand of me, that I
would not willingly sacrifice or offer Thee? Oh, spare me not.’ I
could scarce hear speak of God, or our Lord Jesus Christ,
without being almost ravished out of myself. What surprised
me the most, was the great difficulty I had to say the vocal
prayers I had been used to say. As soon as I opened my lips to
pronounce them, the love of God seized me so strongly that I
was swallowed up in a profound silence, and a peace not to be
expressed. I made fresh essays, but still in vain. I began, but
could not go on. And as I had never before heard of such a
state, I knew not what to do. My inability therein still increased,
because my love to God was still growing more strong, more
violent, and more overpowering. There was made in me,
without the sound of words, a continual prayer, which seemed
to me to be the prayer of our Lord Jesus Christ Himself; a
prayer of the Word, which is made by the Spirit, which,
according to St. Paul, ‘asketh for us that which is good, perfect,
and conformable to the will of God.’—Autobiography, part I. c.
xiii.
Here we find genuine devout fervour, emancipating itself, very
naturally in private, from allotted forms of prayer; but no
mysticism, till we come to the last sentence—even that,
admitting a favourable explanation.
332.
Autobiography, part II. c. xvii. ‘God supplied me,’ she adds,
‘with what was pertinent and satisfactory to them all, after a
wonderful manner, without any share of my study or meditation
therein. Nothing was hid from me of their interior state, and of
what passed within them. Here, O my God! thou madest an
infinite number of conquests, known to Thyself only. They were
instantly furnished with a wonderful facility of prayer. God
conferred on them His grace plentifully, and wrought
marvellous changes in them. The most advanced of these
souls found, when with me, in silence, a grace communicated
to them, which they could neither comprehend nor cease to
admire. The others found an unction in my words, and that they
operated in them what I said to them. They said they had never
experienced anything like it. Friars of different orders, and
priests of merit, came to see me, to whom our Lord granted
very great favours, as indeed he did to all without exception,
who came in sincerity. One thing was surprising, and that was,
that I had not a word to say to such as came only to watch my
words and to criticise them. Even when I thought to try to
speak to them, I felt that I could not, and that God would not
have me do it.... I felt that what I spoke flowed from the
fountain, and that I was only the instrument of Him who made
me speak.’—P. 86.
333.
The little book to which she gave the name of The Torrents,
was written, she tells us, at the suggestion of La Combe. When
she took up her pen she knew not what she was to say, but
soon came thoughts and words abundantly—as, indeed, they
were sure to do. She compares the different kinds of spiritual
progress to the mountain streams she had seen hurrying down
the sides of the Alps. She describes the varieties in the
gravitation of devout souls toward God—the ocean which they
seek. Some proceed slowly, by means of meditations,
austerities, and works of charity,—dependent mostly on
outward appliances,—deficient in spontaneity and ardour,—
little exercised by inward experience. Another class flow in a
fuller stream,—grow into laden rivers—haste with more
strength and speed; but these are apt to dwell, with too much
complacence, on those rich gifts for which they are
conspicuous. A third order (and to these she herself belonged)
dash out from the poverty of the rocks, impetuous, leaping over
every obstacle, unburdened by wealthy freightage, inglorious in
the eyes of men, but simple, naked, self-emptied, with
resistless eagerness foaming up out of abysmal chasms that
seemed to swallow them, and finding, soonest of all, that Sea
divine, wherein all rivers rest.
Her commentaries on Scripture were written with extraordinary
rapidity. The fact that she consulted no book except the Bible in
their composition must doubtless have contributed to their
speed: certainly not, as she fancied, to their excellence. No
writers are so diffuse as the mystics, because no others have
written so fast, imagining headlong haste an attribute of
inspiration. The transcriber could not copy in five days what
she had written in one night. We may conjecture that the man
must have been paid by the day. The commentary on the
Canticles was written in a day and a half, and several visits
received beside.—Autobiography, part II. c. xxi.
334.
O man, wouldst thou be grafted, and to the heavenly soil
transplanted? then must thou first thy branches wild hew quite
away, that kindly fruits may come forth in God’s image.
335.
As far as his doctrine differs from that of Madame Guyon, it is
for the worse, because he approaches more nearly the
extreme language of some of the orthodox mystics in his
communion.
336.
This Dialogue of Malaval’s, which goes much beyond the
mysticism of Molinos, was approved by the Sorbonne, and
found so conformable to the teachings of St. Theresa, that the
translation of it was dedicated to the bare-footed Carmelites.
The unobtrusive and not unqualified mysticism of Molinos was
stigmatised by the new epithet of Quietism, and condemned as
deadly error. The extravagant and wonder-working mysticism
of Theresa was extolled as the angelic life. See the Account of
Molinos and the Quietists, appended to the Autobiography of
Madame Guyon: translated, I believe, from a French work,
entitled, Recueil de Diverses Pièces concernant le Quiétisme
et les Quiétistes.
337.
Michelet, Priests, Women, and Families, p. 74.
338.
See Note on p. 276.
339.
Upham, vol. ii. pp. 3, &c. We find among these persons of rank
a religion of some vitality—no court-fashion merely. It was to
the Introduction à la Vie Dévote (1608) of St. Francis de Sales
that Romanism was indebted for such hold as it really had on
the upper classes. None of the great ecclesiastical writers of
France—not even that darling of the fifteenth century, the
Imitatio Christi, could win the ears of people of the world. In the
Introduction, however, religion appeared neither ruthlessly
stern, nor hopelessly fantastical. It was not, on the one side,
scowling, unkempt, sordid, morose; it was not, on the other,
impalpable, supersensuous, utterly unintelligible, as well as
undesirable, to worldly common sense. Fashion and devotion
met; piety and politeness embraced each other. The
Introduction leaves to others the pains and raptures of the
mystic. It is written for the Marthas, not the Marys. Its readers,
personified in Philothea, are not supposed to be covetous of
any extraordinary gifts. De Sales possessed a lively fancy, and
the tender religious sentiment of his book, graced and
lightened by its rainbow illustrations, was a bright-winged
Psyche, welcome everywhere. These illustrations are drawn,
sometimes from the farms, the flower-valleys, and the snow-
peaks of his native Savoy; sometimes from fabulous natural
history, from classic story, from the legends of the Church, or
the forms and usages of the world,—oftenest of all, from the
ways of infants and children, and from the love of mothers. St.
Beuve happily characterises the work, as ‘un livre qui, sur la
table d’une femme comme il faut ou d’un gentilhomme poli de
ce temps-là, ne chassait pas absolument le volume de
Montaigne, et, attendait, sans le fuir, le volume d’Urfé.’—
Causeries du Lundi, tom. vii. p. 216.
340.
This Harlay had owed his archbishopric to his libertinism in the
days of Madame de Montespan. His sun was now setting,
ingloriously enough, under the decent régime of the Maintenon,
and there was nothing for it but to atone for the scandals of his
life and diocese by exemplary rigour in matters of doctrine. The
letters sent, and the documents shown him, were the
fabrication of La Mothe and his creature the scrivener Gautier.
They forged a letter from Marseilles, pretending that La Combe
had slept in the same chamber with Madame Guyon—and also
eaten meat in Lent. La Combe was further accused of having
embraced and taught the heresy of Molinos.
The real letters which followed Madame Guyon from the
scenes of her former activity breathe no suspicion of her
character or motives. The Bishop of Geneva, in a letter quoted
by Fénélon, declared that his only complaint against her was
the indiscreet zeal with which she everywhere propagated
truths which she believed serviceable to the Church. With that
exception, ‘he esteemed her infinitely, and entertained for her
the highest imaginable regard.’ This was in 1683. In 1688 he
prohibited her books. But even in 1695, the same bishop
repeats his praise of her piety and morals, and declares that
his conscience never would have suffered him to speak of her
in other than respectful language.—See Memoirs for the
History of Madame de Maintenon (London, 1757), vol. III. bk. xi.
c. 2. Autobiography, part III. chapp. i. ii. iii. Fénélon’s Réponse à
la Relation sur le Quiétisme, chap. i.
341.
Memoirs for the History of Madame de Maintenon, bk. ix.
Madame Guyon’s doctrine entered St. Cyr while the absolute
vows were yet under discussion.
342.
Memoirs for the History of Madame de Maintenon, bk. xi. chap.
v.
343.
Autobiography, part III. chap. ix. Fénélon declares that her
explanations at these interviews were such as to satisfy him of
the harmlessness and orthodoxy of her intention. She
appeared to him often extravagant or questionable in
expression, from her ignorance; but so favoured of God, that
the most learned divine might gather spiritual wisdom from her
lips. She told him of certain instantaneous supernatural
communications, which came and vanished, she knew not
how. Yet, like John of the Cross, she did not rest on these, but
passed on into the obscure path of pure faith. For this he
praised her, and believed that though these experiences were
illusory, a spirit so lowly and so obedient had been faithful to
grace throughout, such involuntary deception notwithstanding.
—Réponse à la Relation sur le Quiétisme, chap. i. 10-13.
344.
She still speaks, however, of the ‘sense’ vouchsafed her of the
state of the souls given to her, even when they were at a
distance; and of communication in God with those to whom the
Lord united her by the tie of spiritual maternity. Autobiography,
part III. ch. viii. Nothing was more likely to open her eyes to the
questionable character of some of her experiences, and to the
unguarded nature of many of her expressions, than the kindly
yet searching inquiries of a man like Fénélon, qualified by
temperament to enter into her feelings, and a master in
mystical theology. Mr. Upham seems to me greatly to overrate
the influence of Madame Guyon on Fénélon. To her fancy, her
imagination might at times depict him as a spiritual son: he
was, in fact, a friendly judge.
345.
When called to separate the true mysticism from the false in
the writings of Madame Guyon, Bossuet was not only ignorant
of Tauler, Ruysbroek, Harphius, and others; he had not even
read Francis de Sales or John of the Cross. Fénélon, at his
request, sent him a collection of passages from Suso,
Harphius, Ruysbroek, Tauler, Catharine of Genoa, St. Theresa,
John of the Cross, Alvarez, De Sales, and Madame de
Chantal. With just indignation does Fénélon expose the artifice
by which Bossuet afterwards attempted to turn this confidence
against him.—Réponse à la Relation sur le Quiétisme, chap. ii.
18-27.
346.
History of Madame de Maintenon, bk. XI. chap. vii.
347.
History of Madame de Maintenon, bk. XI. chap. vii. Bausset,
Histoire de Fénélon, liv. ii. p. 295. The high opinion entertained
of Fénélon by Madame de Maintenon was, as yet, unshaken.
She knew that though the friend of Madame Guyon, he was not
her advocate. But she was called to side with the man of
charity or the man of zeal—the liberal man or the bigot; and the
issue could not long be doubtful. Fénélon early saw the signs
of danger. We find him striving to moderate the enthusiasm of
Madame de la Maisonfort—to reconcile her to the regulations
of Godet—to repress her indiscreet zeal in behalf of her cousin,
Madame Guyon.—Correspondance de Fénélon, Lettres 24, 26,
29, 30.
348.
Autobiography, part III. chap. xiii. Phelipeaux gives in full the
correspondence on both sides, Relation de l’Origine, du
Progrès et de la Condamnation du Quiétisme répandu en
France (1732), liv. i. pp. 73, &c. His account abounds in
misrepresentations, and does little more, in the first part, than
echo the Relation sur le Quiétisme of Bossuet, to whom the
abbé was devoted. But his minuteness of detail, and the
copious insertion of important letters and documents on either
side, give to the heavy narrative considerable value. In a
subsequent interview between Bossuet and Madame Guyon,
she declared herself unable to pray for any particular thing—
the forgiveness of her sins, for instance. To do so was to fail in
absolute abandonment and disinterestedness. Bossuet was
shocked. Madame Guyon promised and meant, to be all
submission; but conscience would be unmanageable at times.
Bossuet writes her long, sensible, hard-headed letters, in
which, without much difficulty, he exposes her error, and leaves
her no ground to stand on. She, however, must still humbly
suggest that the exercise of love embraces all petitions, and
that as there is a love without reflexion, so there may be a
prayer without reflexion—a substantial prayer, comprehending
all others.—Phelipeaux, p. 111.
349.
Her request was made to Madame de Maintenon for
commissioners, half clerical, half lay, to examine into the
scandals which had been set afloat against her character.—
Phelipeaux, liv. i. p. 114. Autobiography, part III. chap. xv.
350.
Autobiography, chapp. xvi. xvii. See also her letter to the three
commissioners, in Phelipeaux, p. 117. Harlay heard with
indignation of this Conference at Issy, to decide upon a heresy
which had been unearthed in his diocese. He endeavoured to
rouse the suspicions of Louis, but in vain. He determined
himself to condemn the writings of Madame Guyon, before the
Commissioners could come to a decision. Madame de
Maintenon informed Bossuet, who paid a visit without loss of
time to his metropolitan, complimented him on the censure he
was about to fulminate, gave every explanation, and took his
departure with polite assurances that the verdict of Issy would
but reiterate the condemnation pronounced by the vigilant
Archbishop of Paris. So completely was the cause of Madame
Guyon prejudged.—Phelipeaux, p. 125.
351.
Autobiography, part III. chapp. xviii. xix. Réponse à la Relation,
&c., I. ii. 3. Upham, vol. II. chapp. x. and xi.
352.
The articles at first proposed to Fénélon for his signature were
thirty in number. The 12th and 13th, the 33rd and 34th, were
wanting. He said that he could only sign these thirty articles as
they were, ‘par déférence,’ and against his persuasion. Two
days afterwards, when the four additional articles were laid
before him, he declared himself ready to sign them with his
blood. The 34th article is the most important of the four, as
bearing directly on the most critical question arising from the
doctrine of disinterested love. It allows that doctrine expressly,
if words have meaning, and occupies all the ground Fénélon
himself was concerned to maintain in its defence. (Entretiens
sur la Religion, Fén. Œuvres, tom. i. p. 34.) The article is in
substance as follows:—On peut inspirer aux âmes peinées et
vraiment humbles un consentement à la volonté de Dieu,
quand même, par une supposition très-fausse, au lieu des
biens éternels promis aux justes, il les tiendrait dans les
tourments éternels, sans néanmoins les priver de sa grâce et
de son amour.—Réponse à la Relation, &c., chap. iii.
Phelipeaux, liv. i. pp. 131, 135-137.
353.
See Note on p. 278.
354.
See second Note on p. 278.
355.
See Note on p. 279.
356.
Witness the panegyrics of Bossuet on Theresa and John of the
Cross. Compare also their different verdicts on the former.
Fénélon says, writing to Madame de Maintenon, ‘Quelque
respect et quelque admiration que j’aie pour Sainte Thérèse, je
n’aurais jamais voulu donner au public tout ce qu’elle a écrit.’—
Correspondance, 31. Bossuet, writing to Madame Guyon,
says, ‘Je n’ai jamais hésité un seul moment sur les états de
Sainte Thérèse, parceque je n’y ai rien trouvé, que je ne
trouvasse aussi dans l’Ecriture,’ &c.—Phelipeaux, liv. i. p. 104.
In the Instructions sur les Etats d’Oraison, Bossuet, in speaking
of the passive state, had allowed of certain miraculous
suspensions (impuissances) from which Fénelon shrinks—
which he would have located in some section Faux of his
Maxims—and to which Noailles refused his approval.—
Réponse à la Relation, xxviii. and lxii.
357.
Her letter to Bossuet furnishes a fair justification of this retreat
to Paris.—Phelipeaux, liv. i. p. 152. It gratifies our curiosity to
learn from this authority what books were seized when
Desgrès, the detective, entered the little house in the Faubourg
St. Antoine, in the name of the king. There were some plays of
Molière, some romances, such as John of Paris and Richard
Lion-heart, but these, said Madame Guyon, belonged to the
lacqueys of her son, a lieutenant in the guards. But she
acknowledged a Griseldis and Don Quixote as her books. It is
pleasing to find our fair saint, so far of like passions with
ourselves, amused with Sancho, and pitying Griseldis,—herself
a patient sufferer at the hands of blinded, pitiless men.
358.
See Note on p. 280.
359.
See second Note on p. 280.
360.
Bausset, Histoire de Fénélon, liv. iii. p. 45. See also Note on p.
281.
361.
Bausset, Hist. de Fénélon, liv. iii. 47. A minute, though very
partial account of all the squabbles and intrigues at Rome, from
first to last, may be read in Phelipeaux.—See also Memoirs of
Madame de Maintenon, xi. 19. Corr. de Fénélon, lettre 108.
362.
Bausset, iii. 48-50; Aimé-Martin, Etudes sur la Vie de Fénélon,
p. 14.
363.
Bausset, 53-4; Mem. of Maintenon, XI. 20; Aimé-Martin, 15.
364.
Bausset, 59-61. The means to which Bossuet could stoop—the
falsehoods he could coolly repeat, after detection, as though
nothing had happened—the misquotation, and
misrepresentation—the constant reply to awkwardly pressing
arguments by malicious personalities—all these things are
exposed in Fénélon’s Lettres en Réponse, and in the Réponse
itself. They are bad enough; but the student of controversy is
accustomed to this imperturbable lying, to these arts of
insinuation. The most detestable feature of all in the part
played by Bossuet, lies in that sleek cant and tearful unction
with which he calumniates—as though it almost broke his heart
to write what he exults in writing. Well might Fénélon request
that he would not weep over him so profusely while he tore him
in pieces, and desire fewer tears and more fair play! See the
Preface to the Réponse; Réponse, 59; and Réponse aux
Remarques, § vi.
365.
Bausset, iii. 68, 69; Upham, vol. ii. p. 289.
366.
Bausset, 77, 78.
367.
Upham, vol. ii. ch. 18.
368.
See Note on p. 289.
369.
See Note on p. 290.
370.
See Second Note on p. 290.
371.
See Revelations from the Life of Prince Talleyrand; and
compare Eynard, Vie de Madame de Krüdener, chap. xvii.
Madame de Genlis writes of her, ‘Me. de Krüdener disait les
choses les plus singulières avec un calme qui les rendait
persuasives; elle était certainement de très bonne foi; elle me
parut être aimable, spirituelle et d’une originalité très
piquante.’—P. 30.