Excellent Women Part 22

Then Bossuet appeared on the scene. In September, 1693, he came to see her in Paris, feeling, doubtless, that he was the man to settle all these Pietistic commotions. At Madame Guyon's request he consented to examine her numerous writings; and when, in the course of some months, he had performed this task, and had also perused her MS. autobiography, he had another long conversation with her, which brought out fully the peculiarities of her doctrine. In this interesting discussion he seems to have adopted a bullying tone somewhat incompatible with his remarkably mild Christian name, Jacques _Benigne_, and to have forgotten the courtesy due to a lady who, whatever her errors might be in his eyes, was one of the brightest lights and purest saints in the Roman Catholic Church of that day. Finally, the matter became an affair of State, and the king appointed a commission to sit, at Issy, upon her orthodoxy--Bossuet, De Noailles, and Tronson. The two latter were charmed with her mild and teachable spirit. But the fierce Bossuet was not yet satisfied; and as she put herself under his special direction for a time, he consigned her to a convent at Meaux, and at length required her to sign certain doctrinal articles, and a decree condemning her books. To this last, however, a qualifying clause was appended, to the effect that she had never intended to say anything contrary to the spirit of the Church, not knowing that any other meaning could be given to her words. In fact, while conceding to her Church the right to condemn whatever it did not approve in her tenets, she held much the same position as Galileo when his theory as to the movements of our planet was condemned as heretical, and he capped his enforced retractation with the quiet protest, "_E pur si muove_." In her letter to her three ecclesiastical judges, dated "in August, 1694," she courageously tells them, "I pray you, my lords, to remember that I am an ignorant woman; that I have written my experiences in all good faith, and that if I have explained myself badly, it is the result of my ignorance. As regards the experiences, _they are real_." [1]

[Footnote 1: _La Vie_, troisieme partie, ch. xvi., 6.]

Bossuet at length appeared to be satisfied, and gave her a certificate of her filial submissiveness to the Roman Catholic faith, and she thought herself free to return to Paris. It was not perhaps the wisest step to take; the bishop was displeased at it, as was also the bigoted Madame de Maintenon. Madame Guyon went to live in privacy in a small house in the Faubourg St. Antoine, where she hoped to be left in peace.

But her enemies got scent of her hiding-place, arrested her, and shut her up in the Castle of Vincennes, whence, after a few weeks at Vaugirard, she was transferred to the Bastille.

Of her life in this famous prison we have little or no detail. Like all its unfortunate inmates, she was forbidden to reveal its secrets; but we gather from her own words that, amid sickness and the many hardships of her prison life, one of her severest trials was found in the rumours which reached her of "the horrible outcry," outside the walls, against herself and her sympathisers. But in this dark season she held fast her confidence in G.o.d, and her spirit found utterance and relief in some of those songs, full of love and trust, which are included in the four volumes of her poetical works.

VII.

LAST YEARS.

She was confined in the Bastille for four years, and when at last, in 1702, she was released, her health was completely ruined by the privations she had suffered, the bitter cold of winter, and in the warmer weather the poisonous exhalations from the stagnant waters of the moat. When once more she issued into the sweet air of liberty, "My afflicted spirit," she says, "began to breathe and recover itself; but my body was from that time sick and borne down with all sorts of infirmities." Even now, however, she was not free to go where she liked.

After a brief visit to her daughter in Paris, she was required to take up her residence at Blois, a hundred miles south-west, and there, in complete retirement, she spent her remaining days, still writing cheery words of counsel to her disciples in France and other lands, and enjoying spells of happy converse with the steadfast friends who sought her out in her exile.

She lived on in peace and quiet, though often in pain and weakness, for fifteen years after her release from the Bastille. Her final release from all earthly trials and sorrows took place on June 9, 1717, when she had entered about three months into her seventieth year. That her beautiful spirit of resignation was maintained to the last, and that her faith was pure and steadfast, we have proof in these expressions in her will, written a short time before her death: "Thou knowest that there is nothing in heaven or in earth that I desire but Thee alone. In Thy hands, O G.o.d, I leave my soul, not relying for my salvation on any good that is in me, but solely on Thy mercies and the merits and sufferings of my Lord Jesus Christ."

We find here no trace of that reliance on the Virgin Mary, or that frequent clamouring for her interest and intercession, which then formed and still forms so integral a portion of the daily routine of Romish worship. It is a remarkable feature of Madame Guyon's religious life that, in an idolatrous age, her faith constantly soared straight up to G.o.d, ignoring the mediation of the Virgin and the saints, and regarding the priests themselves, not as intermediaries between Christ and her soul, but simply as her appointed counsellors and guides on the road to heaven. We need not wonder that such bitterness was shown towards her, and that no effort was spared to suppress teaching so dangerous to the very foundations of the ancient edifice of error.

VIII.

HER TEACHING.

On a previous page I have given extracts from her autobiography which show pretty plainly the mistakes into which Madame Guyon fell at the outset of her Christian career. They had their root in the idea that her communion with G.o.d was so close and intimate that all her thoughts were not merely devout and G.o.d-ward, but even Divine, coming direct from G.o.d.

So she fell into the Quietist error of intense introspection, looking for guidance, not solely to the written Word, but chiefly to her own inward impressions, or "inspirations," as she considered them to be.

But was it at all wonderful that this good woman, brought up in the bondage of corrupt doctrine and deeply-incrusted prejudices, should entertain some theological errors? The only wonder is that she attained so much of the truth, and, in that age of mingled intolerance and licentiousness, lived a life of purity and charity, of holy aspirations and devout performance. And though her excessive introspection is not at all to be imitated, and many of her views are such as we with our greater light cannot, of course, endorse, yet her mistakes in metaphysics and in theology did not affect the beauty of her life, which was chiefly spent in acts of charity and earnest endeavours to spread the knowledge of her Lord and Saviour. If her benevolent efforts at evangelisation did not always show the successful results she desired, if disappointments crowded some of her later years, yet to her case we can rightly apply the words of the poet:

"Yet to the faithful there is no such thing As disappointment; failures only bring A gentle pang, as peacefully they say, 'His purpose stands, though mine has pa.s.sed away.'"

Her Works, amounting in all to forty volumes, were published in Paris in several editions. Her _Poems and Spiritual Songs_ occupy four volumes.

Some of these simple utterances of a devout heart were beautifully translated by Cowper, and with one of the most characteristic of these renderings this sketch may fitly be concluded:--

"THE ENTIRE SURRENDER.

Peace has unveiled her smiling face, And woos thy soul to her embrace, Enjoyed with ease, if thou refrain From earthly love, else sought in vain.

She dwells with all who truth prefer, But seeks not them who seek not her.

Yield to the Lord with simple heart All that thou hast and all thou art; Renounce all strength but strength Divine, And peace shall be for ever thine.

Behold the path which I have trod, My path till I go h.o.m.o to G.o.d."

WILLIAM NICHOLS.

ANN JUDSON.

CHAPTER I.

EARLY YEARS.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Ann, a daughter of John and Rebecca Ha.s.seltine, was born in Bradford, Ma.s.sachusetts, on December 22, 1789. The quiet daily life of the simple New England people from whom she sprang, and amongst whom she was brought up, was as beneficial a training for her future career as could have been found for her. The feverish activity and never-ceasing struggle to be first, which have now taken possession of the American people, were then almost unknown, and the descendants of the Puritan fathers spent their days in peaceful toil. Most of the New Englanders were engaged in farming or small manufactures, and there was a deeply religious spirit throughout the whole of the Northern States.

Of the early life of Ann Ha.s.seltine we know comparatively little. Her family was evidently in moderately easy circ.u.mstances, and the Ha.s.seltine household was a happy and closely-united one. The parents, with wise foresight, were careful to give their children as good an education as could be obtained in the neighbourhood, and kept them at school till well advanced in their teens. Ann was distinguished among her sisters for her gay, joyous, and somewhat emotional temperament.

There was no half-heartedness about her, and whatever she took up she would throw her whole soul into. As was to be expected in a community where religious matters occupied so prominent a place, the urgent need of a personal faith in Christ was placed before her at an early age. She could not suppress a vague longing after something, she knew not what; and every now and then her conscience would be aroused, and she would quicken her efforts to be good.

When she was sixteen, affairs reached a crisis. A series of religious conferences had been held in Bradford during the early months of 1806, and she regularly attended them. Each meeting deepened the impression on her mind as to the need of a higher life. Her old amus.e.m.e.nts seemed now utterly distasteful to her, and the fear of being for ever lost weighed heavily on her soul. She was invited to a party by an old friend; but her heart was too sad to care for such things, so on the morning of the party she stole off to the house of one of her aunts, who, she thought, might be able to help her in her trouble. Her aunt spoke seriously to her of the necessity of obtaining salvation while she could, and the poor girl became more downcast than ever. "I returned home with a bursting heart," she afterwards said, "fearing that I should lose my impressions with the other scholars, and convinced that if I did so my soul was lost."

She shut herself in her bedroom, refused to touch any but the plainest food, and for some days pleaded with G.o.d for pardon. Gradually the light came in her soul. "I began to discover a beauty in the way of salvation by Christ," she said. "He appeared to be just such a Saviour as I needed. I saw how G.o.d could be just in saving sinners through Him. I committed my soul into His hands, and besought Him to do with me what seemed good in His sight. When I was thus enabled to commit myself into the hands of Christ, my mind was relieved from that distressing weight which had borne it down for so long a time. I did not think that I had obtained a new heart, which I had been seeking, but felt happy in contemplating the character of Christ, and particularly that disposition which had led Him to suffer so much for the sake of doing the will and promoting the glory of His Heavenly Father."

With so deep an experience it was only natural that the whole course of her outward life should be completely changed. She soon made an open profession of religion by becoming a member of the Congregational Church at Bradford; and her friends could see the reality of her conversion by her consistent daily walk.

She now threw herself with greater zeal into her ordinary studies, and this soon resulted in her being requested to take temporary charge of a small school at Salem. When the work there was done, a teachership was found for her in another place near at hand, and it was while thus engaged that she became acquainted, with her future husband, Adoniram Judson.

Mr. Judson, who was some sixteen months her senior, was the eldest son of a Congregational minister at Malden, near Boston, and had from his youth been noted for possessing intellectual powers far above the average. When a boy, he diligently read every book that he could get hold of, and at Brown University he graduated head of his cla.s.s. For a time during his college course he became affected with the sceptical views which were then fashionable; but the death of a friend brought him back to the old faith, and as an outcome of his conversion he became a student at the Theological College at Andover.

While at college, Judson and three fellow-students had their interest deeply aroused in the conversion of heathen nations. They pet.i.tioned the General a.s.sembly of their church on the matter, and solicited its advice as to whether "they ought to renounce the object of missions as visionary or impracticable;" and if not, what steps they should take to translate their longings into action.

The importance of this appeal was at once recognised by the churches, and as an immediate consequence the "Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions" was formed, a society which has grown until it is now one of the greatest missionary organisations in the world. Judson went on a visit to England in order to expedite matters, and to consult with the officials of the London Missionary Society. After some delay, caused by the capture of the vessel in which he was sailing by a French privateer, he reached London and saw the directors. They agreed to support him and his companions should the American Board be unable to do so, and with this a.s.surance Judson returned to America.

He now made Miss Ha.s.seltine a formal offer of marriage, and she knew that if she accepted she must of course accompany him abroad. For a time she not unnaturally hesitated. She was asked to do what no American woman had before attempted, and the life of a foreign missionary seemed full of unknown horrors. It meant to leave home and probably never to see friends or native land again, to be worn out in the unhealthy climate of some tropical land, to suffer "every kind of want and distress, degradation, insult, persecution, and, perhaps, a violent death." Friends, with few exceptions, advised her to decline, and public opinion was strongly opposed to such a "wild, romantic undertaking" as a woman going out to the heathen. "O Jesus," she prayed in her perplexity, "direct me, and I am safe; use me in Thy service, and I ask no more. I would not choose my position of work or place of service; only let me know Thy will, and I will readily comply!"

After some weeks of hesitation she definitely made up her mind. "I have at length come to the conclusion," she wrote, on October 28, 1810, "that if nothing in Providence appears to prevent, I must spend my days in a heathen land. G.o.d is my witness that I have not dared to decline this offer that has been made me."

Her decision surprised many of her acquaintances. "I hear," said one lady to another, "that Miss Ha.s.seltine is going to India. Why does she go?" "Why, she thinks it her duty. Would you not go if you thought it your duty?" "But," replied the first speaker emphatically, "_I would not think it my duty_."

On February 6, 1812, an ordination service was held at the Tabernacle Church in Salem, when Adoniram Judson and four others were set apart for foreign missionary work. On the previous day he and Ann Ha.s.seltine had been made man and wife at Bradford; and a few days later Mr. and Mrs.

Judson, accompanied by Mr. Newell and his wife, set out in the brig _Caravan_ for Calcutta.

CHAPTER II.

THE ROAD TO RANGOON.

After a four months' voyage the missionary party reached Calcutta, and there they received a warm welcome from Dr. Carey and his fellow-workers. They were invited to the missionary headquarters at Serampore, a spot some few miles from Calcutta, in possession of the Danish Government, where the Baptist missionaries resided in order to avoid the interference of the English authorities. At that time the British rulers of India were opposed to all missionary work, and discouraged it by every means in their power. Foreign preachers were not allowed to reside in India even for a few weeks, and English missionaries were not suffered to remain unless they could obtain special permission from the East India Company. The American missionaries had not been many days in India before they discovered this. They were summoned from Serampore to Calcutta, and there formally commanded, in the name of the Company, to leave India at once and return to America. To do this would have ruined all their plans, so they asked and obtained permission to go instead to the Isle of France (Mauritius), whither a vessel was about to sail. But as it would only accommodate Mr.

and Mrs. Newell, the Judsons perforce remained in Calcutta waiting for another ship.