But now she began to feel, as so many earnest seekers after holiness had felt before her, the strong attraction of this remarkable woman.  While never becoming to her what Fenelon was, Madame Guyon for several years exerted a decided influence upon her views of the Christian life; nor is there reason to think that this influence was not, on the whole, salutary.  Notwithstanding her grave errors and the extravagances which marred her career, Madame Guyon was no doubt one of the holiest, as she was certainly one of the most gifted, women of her own or any other age. [1]

To Mrs. J Elliot Condict, New York, Jan. 2, 1870.

It has been a real disappointment not to see you.  How quickly we learn to lean on earthly things!  I am afraid I prize Christian fellowship too much, and that I am behaving in a miserly way about all divine gifts, shutting myself up here in this room, which often seems like the gate of heaven, and luxuriating in it, instead of going about preaching the glad tidings to other souls.  Yet work for Christ, when He gives it, is sweet, too, and if answering your note is the little tiny bit He offers me at this moment, how glad I am.  Though I am not, just now, in the furnace as you are, there is no knowing how soon I shall be, and I remember well enough how the furnace feels, to have deep sympathy with you in your trials.  Sympathy, but not regret; I can’t make myself be very sorry for Christ’s disciples when He takes them in hand—­He does it so tenderly, so wisely, so lovingly; and it can hardly be true, can it? that He is just as near and dear to me when my cup is as full of earthly blessings as it can hold, as He is to you whose cup He is emptying?

I have always thought they knew and loved Him best who knew Him in His character of Chastiser; but perhaps one never loses the memory of His revelations of Himself in that form, and perhaps that tender memory saddens and hallows the day of prosperity.  At any rate, you and I seem to be in full sympathy with each other; your empty cup isn’t empty, and my full one would be bitter if love to Christ did not sweeten it.  It matters very little on what paths we are walking, since we find Him in every one.  How ashamed we shall be when we get to heaven, of our talk about our trials here!  Why don’t we sing songs instead?  We know how, for He has put the songs into our mouths.  I think I know something about the land of Beulah, but I don’t quite live in it yet; and yet what is this joy if it isn’t beatitude, if it is not a foretaste of that which is to come?  It isn’t joy in what He has done for me, a sinner, but adoring joy for what He is, though I do not begin to know what He is.  It will take an eternity to learn that lesson.