ne, I saw
myself stripped of everything, unprovided for and without papers.

My daughter recovered her health. I must tell how this happened. She
had smallpox and the purples. They brought a doctor from Geneva, who
gave her up in despair. They made Father La Combe come in to take
her confession; he gave her his blessing, and at the same instant
the smallpox and the purples disappeared, and the fever left her.
The doctor, though a Protestant, offered to give a certificate of
miracle.

But although my daughter was restored, my crosses were not lessened,
owing to her bad education. The persecutions on the part of the New
Catholics continued, and became even more violent, without my
ceasing on that account to do them all the good I could. What
caused me some pain was that the mistress of my daughter came often
to converse with me. I saw so much imperfection in these
conversations, although spiritual, that I could not avoid making it
known to her; and as this hurt her, I was weak enough to be pained
at paining her, and to continue out of mere complacency things which
I saw to be very imperfect.

Father La Combe introduced order in many things regarding my
daughter; but the mistress was so hurt that the friendship she had
for me changed into coolness and distance. However, she had grace,
she readily got over it; but her natural character carried her
away.

* * * * *

Father La Combe was a very great preacher. His style was peculiarly his
own.

Various accounts come to us of his power in swaying his audience. The
man was tall, thin, ascetic and of remarkably handsome presence. His
speech was slow, deliberate, kindly, courteous, and most effective. He
disarmed criticism, from his first word. His voice was not loud nor
deep, and he had that peculiar oratorical power which by pause and poise
compels the audience to come to him. Madame Guyon relates that when he
began to speak it was in a tone scarcely audible, and the audience
leaned forward and listened with breathless interest. Occasionally,
during his sermon, he would pause and kneel in silent prayer, and often
by his pauses--his very silences--he would reach a degree of eloquence
that would sway his hearers to tears.

The man had intellect, great spirituality, and moreover was a great
actor, which latter fact need not be stated to his discredit--