Her New Benevolence

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

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Reflections on her conversion.

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But we ought to add, that her care was not limited to her family, to the exclusion of other appropriate objects of Christian benevolence. She had means of doing good, which she did not fail to employ. The income of her husband's property, or rather the property of which he had the control at this time, stated in the French currency, was about forty thousand livres annually. A very large income at that period, when money had relatively a higher value than it now has. Of this amount, a certain portion was placed in her hands by her husband, to be expended by her as she might think proper. And accordingly as God gave her opportunity, and in imitation of that Savior whom she now followed, she did what she could for the poor and the sick, discharging, without any hesitation, duties which would be exceedingly unpleasant and irksome to a mind not supported by Christian principle. She remarks in her Life,

I was very assiduous, in performing deeds of charity. I had feelings of strong compassion for the poor, and it would have been pleasing to me to have supplied all their wants. God, in his providence, had given me an abundance; and in the employment of what he had thus bestowed upon me, I wished to do all that I could to help them. I can truly say, that there were but few of the poor in the vicinity where I lived, who did not partake of my alms. I did not hesitate to distribute among then the very best which could be furnished from my own table. It seemed as if God had made me the only almoner in this neighborhood. Being refused by others, the poor and suffering came to me in great numbers. My benefactions were not all public. I employed a person, whose business it was to dispense alms privately, without letting it be known from whom they came. There were some families, who needed and received assistance, without being willing to accept of it as a gratuity. And I reconciled their feelings with their wants, by permitting them, in the reception of what was needful for them to incur the formality of a debt. I speak of giving; but looking at the subject in the religious light, I had nothing to give. My language to God was,  “Oh my Divine Love, it is thy substance:  I am only the steward of it; I ought to distribute it according to thy will.”

Her efforts for the good of others were not limited to gifts of food and clothing. Those who are acquainted with the state of things in France during the reign of Louis Fourteenth, know that ruinous vices prevailed at that period. The profligacy of the Court, though less intense than that which was exhibited subsequently in the time of the Regency of the Duke of Orleans and in the reign of Louis Fifteenth could hardly fail to find imitators among the people. This will help to explain some further statements which she makes in connection with her efforts to do good. In a number of instances, with a forethought creditable to her sound judgment as well as her piety, she informs us that she caused poor young girls, especially such as were particularly characterized by beauty of person, to be taught in some art or trade; to the end; that, having employment and means of subsistence they might not be under a temptation to adopt vicious courses, and thus throw themselves away. And this was not all. Inspired with the sentiments which animate the hearts of some pious females of later times, she did not consider it inconsistent with religion to endeavor to reclaim those of her sex who had fallen into the grossest sins. She says, that God made use of her to reclaim several females from their disorderly lives, one of whom was distinguished by her family connections as well as her beauty, who became not only reformed, but truly penitent and Christian in her dispositions, and died a happy death.

I went, to visit the sick, to comfort them, to make their beds. I made ointments, aided in dressing wounds, and paid the funeral expenses incurred in the interment of those who died.

And as one of her methods of doing good, she adds,

I sometimes privately furnished tradesmen and mechanics, who stood in need of assistance, with the means that were requisite to enable them to prosecute their business. 

It is very obvious, I think, if we may rely on her own statements, as undoubtedly we may, that in acts of outward charity she did much; perhaps all that could reasonably be expected.

— edited from The Life of Madame Guyon (1877) Volume 1, Chapter 8.

The Poor of this World Rich in Faith

"And he lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said, Blessed be ye poor; for yours is the kingdom of God." — Luke 6.20.

In yon dark forest dwells an aged man,
Whose hoary beard descending sweeps his breast;
His numerous days "are dwindled to a span,"
He waits for his dismissal and his rest.
He  hath no worldly wealth, no worldly fame,
But inward wealth and joys of soul are his;
For he doth love the Savior's blessed name,
And prayer and praising constitute his bliss.
In every evening star a God he sees,
In the wild mountain wind a God he hears,
And bending to the earth his aged knees,
He pours his prayer into Jehovah's ears.
His soul, ascending above earthly things,
Finds audience high in heaven, the glorious King of kings. 

— The Religious Offering (1835) XXI.

Poor, Yet Having All Riches

Of the truly holy man it can be said, also, he is poor, and yet he has all riches; he is poor, because he sits loosely to the world, because he cannot set his affections upon it, and because he has nothing which he can call his own. That, which the world calls his, he calls God’s. He has nothing but what God gives him, and if, in the arrangements of divine providence, God does not see fit to give him anything, he is still rich in the possession of Him, who makes him poor. He may be said to be desolate; but he can never be deserted. He is a poor son; but he has a rich Father; so that, although he has nothing in possession, he can never come to want. God is his banker, who both keeps the funds, and tells him when and how to draw for them; so that he is free from care as the birds of heaven and the lilies of the field.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 8.

Judge Not

Oh, do not judge thy fellow man;

Reproachful epithets forbear;

He hath his place in Heaven's great plan;

The God, who made, hath placed him there.

He's POOR. But in his rags behold

A heart  of  pure and high intent;

And if his form is bent and old,

It  is no cause of merriment.

Perhaps he's EVIL. Let thy prayer

Implore the God of truth and grace,

That soon his footsteps may repair

To virtue's bright and better ways.

OH, DO NOT JUDGE HIM. Hadst thou been,

Cast out like him to pine and die,

Thou too, allur'd and stain'd by sin,

Hadst needed tears of sympathy.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LII.

The Poor Family in Winter

I.
Now 'tis the cold and howling wintry time;
From the contentious north, dark storms arise,
Advancing loud with rapid march sublime,
Rending the earth, and mantling up the skies.
This is the season and the hour which tries
Submission, patience, faith, and charity.
Hark! On the winds are heard the orphan's sigh;
The tears are gleaming in the widow's eye;
Oh! who will hear their plaint, who will their wants supply?

II.
'Tis God's decree, no less than reason's voice,
That man is made not for himself alone;
That with the glad of heart he shall rejoice,
And blend his sorrows with the sufferer's moan,
For all are fashioned of one blood and bone.
And who, that hears His call, will disobey?
Who mock the words from the eternal throne?
Who from the poor and suffering turn away,
When all one Father have, all form'd of kindred clay?

III.
Thus loudly called each other's griefs to bear,
To yon Poor Family your pity show;
They too are human beings.
Let them share Your kindness, nor sink down to hopeless woe.
Mark the poor mother! Tears of anguish flow,
And answering tears flow down her children's cheek.
Her last poor penny gone, and where to go
She knoweth not, nor whose kind aid to seek:
Do not her prayers and tears your charity bespeak?

IV.
Her cheerless cottage stands upon yon moor,
Where nought but a few shrubs and bushes rear
Their shrunk and icy heads. Around her door
The wintry winds howl fearfully and drear.
Her crust of bread she moistens with a tear,
As she doth reach it to her hungry boy.
How deep her desolation! How severe
Her lot, bereft alike of hope and joy,
'Tis darkness without light, and grief without alloy.

V.
Around the few poor embers of their hearth,
Her children cowering sit, and bow the head;
They show no blissful smile, no sign of mirth,
But griefs and fears and wailings in their stead.
The storm without assails their shaking shed;
The snow through gaping board and window flies;
Beneath the coverings of a tattered bed
An infant child lifts up its plaintive cries,
And then again the tears start in the mother's eyes.

VI.
Ye, who have ample houses, fertile lands,
Whose barns are full, and cellars richly stored,
At eve whose blazing, cheerful hearth expands,
And healthful plenty ever crowns your board;
Say, touched with pity, will you not afford
A share to those poor ones, for whom I plead,
That they, as well as you, to peace restored,
No longer may be pressed with care and need,
No more the mother's heart with hidden sorrow bleed?

VII.
Have they the strength of brass, that winter's bleak
And withering presence can affect them not?
When sickness comes upon them, and doth wreak
New ills on their already evil lot,
Have they no care? Do they regard it nought?
Deem not they have no feeling; rather say,
Their heart is like thy heart; the power of thought
To them is given; the intellectual ray
For them, though dim with clouds, hath yet a glimpse of day.

VIII.
Perhaps among those poor and suffering ones,
In hearts where nought but care and grief preside,
There lurks the fire of nature's favorite sons,
A genius to immortal names allied,
(The hope of science and a nation's pride,)
And elemental virtues stern and high.
And shall they always thus in woe abide?
Oh, pass them not in silent coldness by;
Thou too mayest stand in need; thy time of want be nigh.

IX.
Not seldom those, who rolled in wealth to-day,
Amid the overflow of temporal good,
Have in a moment seen it fall away,
And leave them without friends, or home, or food.
Those, who in honor and in greatness stood,
Pride of the noble, envy of the poor;
Oft have they felt misfortune's onset rude,
And in the loss of all their earthly store,
Have begged their daily bread, and wept from door to door.

X.
Oh ye, to whom kind heaven doth impart
Abundant earthly treasures, be it yours
To cheer the suff'ring and the sad of heart,
Nor turn away the hungry from your doors.
On you the Deity his goodness pours,
That you in blessing may be doubly blest.
Ye  are the stewards of his ample stores.
The foxes have their holes, the bird its nest,
And shall not man be fed, and have his place of rest.

XI.
Example from the blessed Saviour take,
Who turned the water of the feast to wine,
And made the golden light of heaven break
Upon the suffering, miserable blind.
For all our race he felt, to all was kind,
Though poor himself, despised, unknown to fame.
Oh imitate the Saviour of mankind,
Who, through all time, his blessing doth proclaim
To him, who gives a cup of water in his name.

XII.
And then thine eye, when closing on this life,
And all its chequered scenes of want and woe,
Of pride, ambition, turbulence, and strife,
Shall 'ope on other scenes than here below.
There  shall the plumed, enraptured spirit know
How, from the fruitfulness of Love Divine,
The streams of excellence and pleasure flow,
And through God's universal empire shine,
Be that the joy to me, and that the triumph thine.

— The Religious Offering (1835).