LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.-No. 474.-18 JUNE, 1853.

Homeward Bound, 705; The "Green-Horns " -Day Dreams

-Sculptured Vase-"Nothing to do," 706; Spring Cleaning, 754.

SHORT ARTICLES: Mysterious Music, 736; Thomas Chatterton, 754; The Cherry, 761;
Jackson's Epitaph on his Wife - Management of the Finger Nails, 767.
NEW BOOKS: 768.

From the Ladies' Companion. NOTHING TO DO?"

"NOTHING to do?" O, pause and look around At those oppressed with want, and sorrow too! Look at the wrongs, the sufferings that abound, Ere yet thou sayst there's naught for thee to do. Nothing to do?" Are there no hearts that

No care-worn breasts that heave an anguished
sigh-

No burthens that thy hands may lighter make-
No bitter tears thy sympathy might dry?
Are there no hungry that thy hand may feed
No sick to aid, no naked to be clad?
Are there no blind whose footsteps thou mayst
lead

No mourning heart that thou couldst make less sad?

Nothing to do?" Hast thou no store of gold
No wealth of time that thou shouldst well em-
ploy?

No hidden talent that thou shouldst unfold
No gift that thou shouldst use for others' joy?

Nothing to do?" O, look without, within!
Be to thyself and to thy duties true:
Look on the world, its troubles, and its sin,
And own that thou hast much indeed to do!

From the British Quarterly Review.

Life and Religious Opinions and Experience of Madame de la Mothe Guyon; together with some account of the Personal History and Religious Opinions of Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambray. By 'THOMAS C. UPHAM, Professor of Mental and Moral Philosophy in Bowdoin College. 2 vols. New York: Harper and Brothers. 1851.

ing there on which any fire may kindle after divine calm, the fruition of an absolute repose death. It promises a perfect sanctification, a on this side the grave. It has been both persecuted and canonized by kings and pontiffs. In one age the mystic is enrolled burns him, or a lettre-de-cachet consigns him among the saints; in another, the inquisitor to the Bastille. But the principle is indestructible. There always have been, and JEREMY TAYLOR relates, in one of his ser- probably always will be, minds whose religion mons, the following legend: "Saint Lewis assumes spontaneously a mystical character. the king having sent Ivo, Bishop of Chartres, States of society continually recur which necon an embassy, the bishop met a woman on the essarily foster this disposition. There have way, grave, sad, fantastic, and melancholy, been periods in which all the real religion with fire in one hand, and water in the other. existing in a country has been found among He asked what these symbols meant. She its mystics. Then this inward contemplative answered, My purpose is with fire to burn | devotion becomes conspicuous as a powerParadise, and with my water to quench the ventures out into public life, and attracts the flames of hell, that men may serve God eye of the historian. Then its protest is without the incentives of hope and fear, and heard against literalism, formality, scholaspurely for the love of God." This fanciful ticism, human ordinances. It reacts strenupersonage may be regarded as the embodiment ously against the corruptions of priestcraft. of that religious idea to which we give the But its voice is heard also discoursing concernname of Quietism. It is the ambition of the ing things unutterable. It speaks as one in a Quietist to attain a state in which self shall dream of the third heaven, and of celestial be practically annihilated-in which nothing experiences and revelations fitter for angels shall be desired, nothing feared- in which than for men. Its stammering utterance, the finite nature ignores itself and all crea- confused with excess of rapture, laboring with tures, and recognizes only the Infinite-is emotions too huge or with abstractions too swallowed up and hidden in the effulgence of spiritual for words, is utterly unintelligible. the Divine Majesty. Quietism attempts self- Then it is misrepresented. Mysticism betranscendence by self-annihilation. It calls comes in turn the victim of a reaction - the on man to become Nothing, that he may be delirium is dieted by persecution it is eondissolved in Him who is All. It has many signed once more to secrecy and silence. various names to denote its beloved contrasts There it survives, and spins in obscurity its of self-emptiness and Divine fulness. That mingled tissue of evil and of good. We must reduction of self to an inappreciable quantity not blindly praise it in our hatred of formalism. which it inculcates, is called poverty, simpli- We must not vaguely condemn it in our fication, denudation, indifference, silence, horror of extravagance.

quiet, death. That self-finding in God which Mr. Upham has contributed to the literais the immediate consequence of this self-ture of America an interesting and instructivé loss, is termed union, transformation, perfec-book. To write the biography of Madame tion, pure love, immersion, absorption, deifi

cation.

Guyon has been with him a labor of love, and he makes us love him for his labor. To what Mysticism is the romance of religion. Its external section of the Christian community history is bright with stories of dazzling spir- he may belong we know not, but his devout itual adventure, sombre with tragedies of the spirit and large-hearted Christian charity bring soul, stored with records of the achievements him near to our hearts at once. He has and the woes of martyrdom and saintship. It availed himself conscientiously of the best has reconciled the most opposite extremes materials within his reach. His style is calm of theory and practice. In theory it has and equable - almost too much so. His verged repeatedly on pantheism, ego-theism, modest and gentle nature would seem to have nihilism. In practice it has produced some been schooled in the Quietism he records. of the most glorious examples of humility, The wrongs of Madame Guyon are narrated benevolence, and untiring self-devotion. It by him with a patient forbearance equal to has commanded with its indescribable fasci- that with which she endured them. For unnation the most powerful natures and the most charitableness itself he has abundant charity, feeble minds lofty with a noble disdain of and the worst malignity of persecution cannot life, or low with a weak disgust of it. If the provoke him to asperity or carry him awayself-torture it exacts be terrible, the reward it with indignation. In his sympathy with holds out has been found to possess an irre- Madame Guyon, and in his admiration for sistible attraction. It lays waste the soul her character as a whole, we fully agree with with purgatorial pains, but it is to leave noth-him. In his estimate of her Quietism and of

Quietism generally, we differ. We shall find powerful stimulant. There she read of huoccasion, as we proceed, to show why we miliations and austerities numberless, of think him wrong in regarding Quietism and charities lavished with a princely munifithe highest Christian spirituality as identi- cence, of visions enjoyed and miracles wrought cal. In his anxiety to do justice to Madame in honor of those saintly virtues, and of the Guyon, he has transposed and paraphrased intrepidity with which the famous enthusiast ner language, softened many expressions, and wrote with a red-hot iron on her bosom the omitted others. He underrates, we think, characters of the holy name Jesus. The girl the allowance which thoughtful readers will of twelve years old was bent on copying these be disposed to make for her. It would have achievements on her little scale. She rebeen more satisfactory had he represented her lieved, taught, and waited on the poor; and, to us just as she was, without veiling a single for lack of the red-hot iron or the courage, extravagance. There is a nobleness in her sewed on to her breast with a large needle a which would survive the disclosure, and pre- piece of paper containing the name of Christ. serve for her memory a place in the affection She even forged a letter to secure her adof every liberal mind. The biographer might mission to a conventual establishment as a have appended to her exact words whatever nun. The deceit was immediately detected; explanation or comment he thought necessary, but the attempt shows how much more favorleaving his readers to judge for themselves. able was the religious atmosphere in which The best course would have been, to have she grew up to the prosperity of convents placed occasionally side by side with her than to the inculcation of truth. meditations some of the rhapsodies of Angela de Foligni or St. Theresa. It would then have been seen, that, in comparison with these be-praised and sainted devotees, the persecuted Madame Guyon was sobriety itself. Thus instructed, the Protestant would be placed in a position to do her full justice. But, ignorant of mysticism generally, and of the expressions to which Romanist mystical writers had long been accustomed, he would see in Madame Guyon standing alone only a monster of extravagance. Professor Upham, however, has brought much less information of this kind to his subject than could have been desired. The particular form of mysticism which goes by the name of Quietism can only be thoroughly understood by a comparison with some of the other developments of its common principle.

With ripening years religion gave place to vanity. Her handsome person and brilliant conversational powers fitted her to shine in society. She began to love dress, and feel jealous of rival beauties. Like St. Theresa, at the same age, she sat up far into the night devouring romances. Her autobiography records her experience of the mischievous effects of those tales of chivalry and passion, When nearly sixteen, it was arranged that she should marry the wealthy M. Guyon. This gentleman, whom she had seen but three days before her marriage, was twenty-two years older than herself.

The faults she had were of no very grave description, but her husband's house was destined to prove for several years a pitiless school for their correction. He lived with his mother, a vulgar and hard-hearted woman. Her low and penurious habits were unaffected by their wealth; and in the midst of riches, she was happiest scolding in the kitchen about some farthing matter. She appears to have hated Madame Guyon with all the strength of her narrow mind. M. Guyon loved his wife after his selfish sort. If she was ill, he was inconsolable. If any one spoke against her, he flew into a passion; yet, at the instigation of his mother, he was continually treating her with harshness. An artful servant girl, who tended his gouty leg, was permitted daily to mortify and insult his wife. Madame Guyon had been accustomed at home to elegance and refinement - beneath her husband's roof she found politeness contemned and rebuked as pride. When she spoke she had been listened to with attention

Jeane Marie Bouviéres de la Mothe was born on Easter-eve, April 13th, 1648, at Montargis. Her sickly childhood was distinguished by precocious imitations of that religious life which was held in honor by every one around her. She loved to be dressed in the habit of a little nun. When little more than four years old she longed for martyrdom. Her school-fellows placed her on her knees on a white cloth, flourished a sabre over her head, and told her to prepare for the stroke. A shout of triumphant laughter followed the failure of the child's courage. She was neglected by her mother, and knocked about by a spoiled brother. When not at school she was the pet or the victim of servants. She began to grow irritable from illtreatment, and insincere from fear. When ten years old she found a Bible in her sicknow she could not open her mouth without Toom, and read it, she says, from morning to contradiction. She was charged with prenight, committing to memory the historical suming to show them how to talk, reproved parts. Some of the writings of St. Francis for disputatious forwardness, and rudely de Sales, and the Life of Madame de Chantal, silenced. She could never go to see her pafell in her way. The latter work proved a rents without having bitter speeches to bear

highway where every passing foot might trample it in the dust.

on her return. They, on their part, re-
proached her with unnatural indifference
towards her own family for the sake of her A severe illness brought her more than once
new connexions. The ingenious malignity to the brink of the grave. She heard of her
of her mother-in-law filled every day with danger with indifference, for life had no at-
fresh vexations. The high spirit of the young traction. Heavy losses befell the family-
girl was completely broken. She had already she could feel no concern. To end her days
gained a reputation for cleverness and wit in a hospital was even an agreeable anticipa-
now she sat nightmared in company, nervous, tion. Poverty and disgrace could bring no
stiff, and silent, the picture of stupidity. At change which would not be more tolerable
every assemblage of their friends she was than her present suffering. She labored, with
marked out for some affront, and every visitor little success, to find comfort in religious
at the house was instructed in the catalogue exercises. She examined herself rigidly, con-
of her offences. Sad thoughts would come fessed with frequency, strove to subdue all
how different might all this have been had care about her personal appearance, and while
she been suffered to select some other suitor! her maid arranged her hair-how, she cared
But it was too late. The brief romance of not was lost in the study of Thomas à
her life was gone indeed. There was no Kempis. At length she consulted a Francis-
friend into whose heart she could pour her can, a holy man, who had just emerged from
sorrows. Meanwhile, she was indefatigable a five years' solitude. "Madame," said he,
in the discharge of every duty she endeav-"you are disappointed and perplexed because
ored by kindness, by cheerful forbearance, by you seek without what you have within. Ac-
returning good for evil, to secure some kinder custom yourself to seek God in your heart,
she was ready to cut out her and you will find him."
tongue that she might make no passionate
reply she reproached herself bitterly for
the tears she could not hide. But these
coarse, hard natures were not so to be won.
Her magnanimity surprised but did not soften
minds to which it was utterly incomprehensi-

treatment

ble.

These words of the old Franciscan embody the response which has been uttered in every ago by the oracle of mysticism. It has its truth and its falsehood, as men understand it. There is a legend of an artist, who was about to carve from a piece of costly sandal-wood an image of the Madonna; but the material Her best course would have been self-asser- was intractable - his hand seemed to have tion and war to the very utmost. She would lost its skill-he could not approach his have been justified in demanding her right to ideal. When about to relinquish his efforts be mistress in her own house in declaring in despair, a voice in a dream bade him shape it incompatible with the obligations binding the figure from the oak-block, which was upon either side that a third party should be about to feed his hearth. He obeyed, and permitted to sow dissension between a hus- produced a masterpiece. This story repreband and wife-in putting her husband, sents the truth which mysticism upholds finally to the choice between his wife and when it appears as the antagonist of superhis mother. M. Guyon is the type of a large stitious externalism. The materials of religclass of men. They stand high in the eye of ious happiness lie, as it were, near at hand the world and not altogether undeservedly - among affections and desires which are as men of principle. But their domestic homely, common, and of the fireside. Let circle is the scene of cruel wrongs from want the right direction, the heavenly influence, of reflection, from a selfish, passionate incon- be received from without; and heaven is residerateness. They would be shocked at the garded with the love of home, and home charge of an act of barbarity towards a sanctified by the hope of heaven. The farstranger, but they will inflict years of mental fetched costliness of outward works. - the distress on those most near to them, for want restless, selfish bargaining with aceticism and of decision, self-control, and some conscien- with priestcraft for a priceless heaven, can tious estimate of what their home duties truly never redeem and renew a soul to peace. But involve. Had the obligations he neglected, mysticism has not stopped here; it takes a the wretchedness of which he was indirectly step farther, and that step is false. It would the author, been brought fairly before the seclude the soul too much from the external; mind of M. Guyon, he would probably have and to free it from a snare, removes a necesdetermined on the side of justice, and a do- sary help. Like some overshadowing tree, it mestic revolution would have been the conse- hides the rising plant from the force of storms,. quence. But Madame Guyon conceived her- but it also intercepts the appointed sunshine self bound to suffer in silence. Looking back - it protects, but it deprives and beneath on those miserable days she traced a Father's its boughs hardy weeds have grown more care in the discipline she endured. Prov- vigorously than precious grain. Removing,. idence had transplanted Self from a garden, more or less, the counterpoise of the latter, where it expanded to love and praise, to a in its zeal for the spirit, it promotes an in-

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